Newly filed bunny; Oxford; other people's DVDs

Harley duly had his surgery last Friday, and by the time I arrived home in the evening seemed pretty much back to usual, though he didn't eat properly until Saturday afternoon, meaning that Ruth had to feed him through a pipette with some vile-looking food supplement supplied by the vet. We are hoping that his newly-shortened teeth will now enable him to eat lots of hay, as proper bunnies are supposed to.

Saturday was spent painting the attic wall white as part of the whole attic workroom plan. I have to say it does look brighter.

Travelled to Oxford on Sunday for a farewell dinner with Janet and some of the other former Progress South Central staff before Janet’s impending departure back home to New Zealand. I travelled up early and went for a bit of a walk, turning left off Hythe Bridge Street by the ‘dead end’ of the Oxford Canal and walking up past some surprisingly scruffy narrowboats to Isis Lock, the canal's southernmost lock (pictured), where I crossed and continued up the towpath to Aristotle Bridge. Turned off and had a meander around Polstead Road and other smart streets including the elegant Park Town, before heading to the Jam Factory on Hollybush Row to meet the others for lunch. Janet and her partner had already had to move out of their rented flat and were staying briefly with her brother before leaving the UK later this week to tour Europe for a few weeks before returning home.

During lunch I finally returned Godfrey's copy of Tony Richardson's 1961 film A Taste of Honey, which he lent me at least two years ago and I only got around to watching the previous evening. Verdict: OK but a bit over-studied, and rather hammered home the general bleakness and poverty of the surroundings and the characters' lives. However, Godfrey, who is much more of a film buff than I am, reckons it was an important film for British cinema, and he's no doubt right. Now Ruth and I just have to watch Helen's copy of The Princess Bride, which she rashly lent us at a dinner party about a year ago but which Ruth has consistently refused to actually watch, preferring things involving crime-fighting and lashings of gore. However, I shall feel too guilty to return it if I haven't actually watched it, in case I am questioned on my favourite bits (apparently it's Helen's family's favourite film).

Next week marks the start of the little 10-credit OU course (or perhaps courselet) I have signed up for, Design and the Web, part of the Technology Faculty’s Relevant Knowledge series of short courses. Have done the preliminary reading and the icebreaker. As I already know something about writing web pages, I'm not expecting all of it to be very demanding, but figure I might learn something.

Wednesday 21 September 2011

New patio; big plants; whingeing

Arrived back at the house on Friday evening to admire the larger and much smarter new patio. The new retaining wall and the built-in seat all look great; now the render just needs to dry so that the wall can be painted. We briefly considered a bright colour of some sort, before deciding that white would probably be more sensible.

Visit to the vets first thing on Saturday for the rabbits to have their follow-up jabs from the one they had a few weeks ago – not entirely satisfactory visit as when we were eventually called in 30 minutes after our appointment time, the vet discovered that the surgery only had one VHD vaccine in stock, so we had to pick the lucky bunny to receive it. The vet’s advice was that given Harley’s impending operation, it would be better to give Lola the jab – this was duly done and Harley has been booked in for his surgery this coming Friday. Ruth is planning a special meal for him the night before; we speculated whether this might involve chopped bank statements with a side order of leather sofa.

Spent the rest of the day buying a rotary airer from Homebase and then driving around various garden centres looking for a potential new bamboo, as our existing bamboos have suffered from the patio extension. Started at The Big Plant Nursery on the A4 at Twyford, which does indeed sell some very big plants. Lots of good looking bamboos, but all about 5 metres tall which we decided was pushing it a bit. Tried out the Wyevale at Hare Hatch, but more oriented around pansies, nymphs etc. Didn't get further than the car park of Ladds Garden Centre, the other side of the A4, as Ruth noticed that they sold live animals and insisted on leaving. I did once see some cute quail there, but should probably repent of my thinking they were cute and be outraged instead. Eventually gave up on plants and went for lunch at the Shire Horse as Ruth needed fuel.

After a late start on Sunday I decided to attack the attic, as we seem to have agreed on turning part of this into an office space to relieve pressure on bedroom 2 and to free the room up for decorating. Spent a cathartic few hours bagging stuff up for charity (though have not persuaded Ruth to get rid of nearly enough books as yet) and then clearing a space for some shelf-building (hopefully). With admittedly great foresight, I had a couple of double sockets installed up there during last year's electrical work - at the time because I was intending to take up sewing and wanted somewhere to plug in a sewing machine, something which admittedly doesn't quite seem to have happened yet. Have been keeping a boxful of old duvet covers, pillowcases etc though just in case, so that I have something to practise on when the new hobby finally does get going. Ruth started stripping wallpaper in bedroom 2, ably assisted by Harley who seems to enjoy the taste of wallpaper paste, even though we fear it can't be good for him.

Quest continues to find a charmingly attractive part of MK that I might fancy spending time in, but have unfortunately discovered that nearby Bletchley is definitely not one such, unless I missed the good bits. Took the bus there on Tuesday evening to register at a new doctor's surgery; the walk there from the bus station down what appeared to be the high street (Queensway, featured in the Wikipedia link above) was suitably depressing, as the most upmarket retail outlet along its whole length looked to be a branch of Nisa. The bus I took home has made me belatedly determined to send Reading Buses a fan letter; surly driver (as seems the norm here) and a motley handful of other passengers, half of whom seemed severely in need of a bath. Bloody hell.

Wednesday 14 September 2011

Tree butchery; Olympic Walk; garden landscaping

Ruth took the rabbits for jabs a week or so ago and was informed by the vet that Harley should really have surgery to file down some spurs that are growing on his teeth. Rabbits, being to my mind peculiarly badly designed creatures, have teeth that never stop growing and can eventually spout monster sharp ends that can potentially pierce their own cheeks. I think we have grudgingly conceded that we wouldn’t wish this on him, though we may be asking him to get a part-time job.

Was completely gutted to arrive home from work last Friday evening to discover that the beautiful silver birch tree outside the back of my flat had been chopped down during the day. Bloody council. I fired off a blistering, and probably somewhat over-emotional, email to them, but they haven’t replied as yet. Here’s a picture of it as it was, around the time I moved in. Ray did note that silver birches are not long-lived trees (though the tree looked perkily green to me) and sometimes have to be taken out before they become dangerous and their branches start dropping, but I’m not convinced. Am expecting the bureaucratic philistines at the council to claim that it was posing an imminent threat either to the buildings or the inhabitants, which I will of course suspect to be complete bollocks – in any case, these are hardly listed buildings and many of my neighbours look fairly expendable. Anyway. Rant over.

Had a day in London on Saturday (pictures here) which started badly due to me setting the wrong alarm, missing my planned bus and when I finally arrived at MK Central, buying two train tickets in a fit of hysteria (don’t ask - I blame grieving for the tree). After meeting Ray and calming down over a lovely breakfast at Carluccio’s at St Pancras, we made our way to Bromley-by-Bow tube station for 11am to meet the tour group and guide for the day’s Daily Olympic Walk, tours led by Blue Badge Tourist Guides around the environs of the Olympic Park, ending up with a viewpoint into the park’s interior (the public can’t actually go inside, except on a special bus tour which apparently gets booked up months ahead). The walk itself took in the area of the Lower Lea Valley that surrounds the Olympic site, starting off at Three Mills Island and the recently-regenerated Three Mills Green, then proceeding along Three Mills Wall River, across Stratford High Street, past the newly regenerated City Mill Lock and up Pudding Mill Lane to the Olympic site, where we were let in along with a number of other tour groups to what is evidently the official viewing point. All quite interesting, though I was more interested in the history and regeneration of the area than in anything actually to do with the Olympics. We both thought the tour guide went on a bit, but I guess that’s what they get paid to do.

After being released from the tour group, we took the DLR to Canary Wharf and had lunch at Strada (pretty but disappointingly tasteless pasta dish; nice rosé though) before going to have a poke around Limehouse Basin and the mouth of the Regent's Canal. We walked a little way up the Regent's Canal before deciding that it really wasn't a very scenic walk, so turned off towards Mile End Park. We caught the 205 bus from Mile End Road back to our respective stations.

Thankfully, the Hoppa Bags are finally gone, thanks to Frank of Thatcham-based FE Decking, who has been carrying out some work in the garden over the last week or so extending the patio and building a new block and render wall, which is due to be painted white just as soon as the render dries. Ruth finally fired Mr Hoppa last week, as his promises to come and collect the bags never looked like materialising and Frank evidently got ticked off with having to work around them and arranged for a mate of his to come and collect them, for an extra 20 quid. Makes you wonder what was so difficult in the first place. Although harbouring some concerns that having work done on the garden was hardly the priority for our property, I’m looking forward to seeing the finished product this coming weekend.