Credit; gammy feet; premature Christmassyness

Mightily annoyed recently to apply for the same Galaxy S IV deal via Mobile Phones Direct that Ruth took out a couple of months ago, and have Vodafone decline my application for credit. Firstly, because I have been a Vodafone customer for some years and finished a two-year Galaxy S contract last winter, on which I had never missed a payment, and secondly, because as far as I knew my credit history was pretty clean. Ruth suggested I obtain my Experian credit report (a more constructive course of action than the hour of ranting and swearing I had planned), which I duly did. Was reassured to see that my current credit score is in the ‘Excellent’ category, but did note the one ‘negative factor’ stated as ‘You have recently opened 1 or more new credit accounts’. Quite true, as I took out a Lloyds TSB credit card in September, as it had a lower interest rate than my current first direct Visa card, which I am intending to close. It had been intended at the time as a piece of sensible financial management, rather than the reckless behaviour creditors evidently take it to be. The assumption, presumably, is that applying for a new credit card means that you’ve maxed out your old one and just want some more Yummy Credit.

What was particularly galling was that my credit report also revealed that Vodafone had already searched it about a month previously following Ruth’s application for credit for the same phone deal – evidently this can happen when someone you are ‘financially connected to’ makes an application for credit – and had subsequently approved her application. A number of ‘hmph’ noises were made, before I decided that I wasn’t that bothered about having a new phone anyway, new up-to-the-minute phones being symptomatic of the grasping consumerism that plagues our society. OK, I didn’t decide any such thing.

Spent the first part of the weekend before last paying another visit to Mum and Dad’s, as Dad hadn’t been home the previous time I visited. On the Saturday we went for a lovely lunch at the Stonemill at Rockfield, where Dave and Hazel got married in 2011 and where my parents – and, evidently, also my aunt and uncle – have gone to eat a couple of times since. Don’t often order desserts, and certainly not sticky toffee pudding, but couldn’t resist the golfball-sized sphere of clotted cream it came with. And in fairness, the portions were fairly modest. Ruth and I walked down to the covered market in the afternoon, part of which was given over to a craft fair where I bought this charming doorstop in the shape of a hen. Although she is shown in the photo actually acting as a doorstop, I don’t intend keeping her on the floor as a matter of course as don’t trust Lexie not to inflict mortal wounds on her.

Bumped into my MK neighbour Susannah (from two doors down) while putting my rubbish out early last Wednesday, and enquired after her health, to be told that she’s healing well from her recent surgery. Susannah is probably around my age but evidently has some sort of problem with one or both of her legs. When I'd met her a month or so earlier I'd realised I hadn’t actually seen her for quite a while previously and she noted that she’d been housebound for a while due to a problem with one of her feet. She had appeared particularly cheerful on that occasion and shared that she was shortly due to go into hospital to have one of her feet amputated, which was “really good news”. I pondered on our strikingly different conceptions of what constitutes good news, but I concluded that it must say something for the level of discomfort she must have been in. I didn’t manage to figure out quite what was wrong with her, but seemingly some sort of infection. I subsequently spoke briefly to her scary-looking but pleasant partner while she was in hospital, and passed on my good wishes. When I next saw Susannah after this she seemed to be walking around quite freely, and indicated that her scar was healing quite nicely, pointing at her stomach. Not that I am any sort of surgical expert, but amputating someone’s foot via their stomach does seem a tad odd. In any case the freedom with which she now appears to be walking around suggests that an alternative way forward was found. All a bit mysterious though. I’m restricting myself to general enquiries as to how she is doing, rather than “What exactly was wrong with you?”, though I am a bit intrigued.

Stupid headline from an online news site this week. Why is this news? If the word ‘upset’ had been e.g. ‘thrill’, ‘please’, ‘stimulate’ or similar, then it might have been.

Went for another curry with workmates last Thursday at the Rose of India in Bletchley - again, very nice food; in fact I took care to order exactly what I'd ordered the previous time. Matt and I met again for pre-dinner drinks at the Enigma Tavern, having both forgotten that there is a marginally nicer-looking pub much closer to the restaurant. The Enigma was much busier than the last time we'd visited and appeared to have some sort of carvery going on in one corner. Matt had bagged us seats in front of the fire well away from the gravy-slurping locals.

Little Harley had another operation to file ('rasp') his teeth down last Friday, barely six months after his previous one. His teeth are evidently out of control. He came through it with seemingly no ill effects, though when we had told Sandra at RRR that this was impending, she expressed concern about the frequency of anaesthetics and recommended a cruel-to-be-kind feeding approach involving fewer fresh vegetables but a mountain of hay and grass on tap. Harley has never shown himself to be particularly keen on hay but I think the idea is to starve him into submission.

On Sunday Ruth and I visited the Tree Barn at Greenfield Farm at Christmas Common and were suckered into buying a real Christmas tree. Only a little one, but still. It’s currently out on the patio in its pot and we’re just hoping it manages to retain its needles for the next month. Also managed to spend a further £50 or so on baubles, candles and some mini gold faux cowbells.


It's apparently unclear how the village of Christmas Common came by its name, but I still recall an incident relatively early on in my relationship with Ray, when we were driving around the area and he asked, rather to my confusion, “Is Christmas common round here?” Being unaware at the time of the existence of the village, I replied something like “Once a year, same as everywhere”. How we laughed …

We called in at Waitrose on the way back from the Tree Barn and bought some tinned goods and a big box of tea bags to contribute to Reading’s FoodBank. Hope they appreciate having Waitrose groceries. Re the tea bags: we did have a brief middle class angst-ridden discussion about whether we were making an unjustified assumption that poor people don’t use loose tea, but erred on the side of caution and grabbed them a huge box of tea bags labelled 'Everyday Brew', or some such, while Ruth sneaked her loose Assam into the other end of the trolley.

Pearls from this week’s job search: Crop Technician (remarkably poorly paid) and Climbing Wall Instructor.

Rabbit angst; washing house; countryside

Lexie has proved a boisterous and destructive lass during her first month’s residence with us, starting off by biting through not only the phone cable but also the cable protector. She appears particularly annoyed by shoes, especially my shoes, regularly picking them up and throwing them about the hallway. Most seriously, certainly in Ruth’s eyes, she has bitten a chunk out of one of the seat cushions of the smart and expensive (though not, in my opinion, especially comfortable) leather sofa in the living room. A three-figure quote for repairing the damage has been obtained, and the living room door is now kept firmly shut during the day. Slightly less seriously, but still mildly annoyingly, she shredded the bejeezus out of this relatively new IKEA catalogue.

When we collected her and Harley from RRR last Sunday after spending the weekend at my parents’, we regaled Sandra in a light-hearted yet mildly barbed fashion with Lexie’s faults, at which she tittered sympathetically before adding chirpily “Sold as seen!”. As we arrived, Sandra's opening sally had been to claim that Harley and Lexie seemed to get on together better than he had with Lola, at which point Lexie aggressively mounted Harley, staying on board as he raced around the enclosure trying to shake her off, and thrusting in a less than ladylike fashion. When Sandra eventually managed to coax/prise her off, poor little Harley had a large sucked patch of wet fur on the back of his neck. As we were leaving, Sandra somewhat shamefacedly thanked us for adopting her.

We attempted to subdue the rabbits one weekend in October by finding a recipe for the rabbit Ruth bought a while ago at Reading Farmers’ Market and shoved in the freezer. Admirably, she did a good job of jointing it after consulting a YouTube video on How To Joint a Rabbit.

Another perturbing snippet (right) recently from the ‘Most Popular’ section of the BBC News homepage. Currently considering my best course of action in light of the impending wine shortage. Secondly, I do own a Dell laptop, but had never noticed that it smells of cat urine. Perhaps it’s a new sales pitch.

Spent a weekend in Milton Keynes towards the end of October to catch up on maths, clean bathroom etc and, somewhat ludicrously, clean the front door, as the report from the latest inspection by the letting agents noted that although the flat/houselet was largely in excellent condition, the front door was grubby. Indeed it was. Here’s a picture of it looking sparkling clean after the brisk scouring and sloshing with water I gave it. On the Sunday I decided to explore some more of the local area and took a bus ride to Stony Stratford, a suburb on the northwestern edge of the town and presumably once a little town in its own right. Took a walk along the high street in increasingly windy weather (it being the day prior to the recent strong – by UK standards – winds) and then turned into Bridge Meadow, where I briefly admired the bridge over the Great Ouse before walking south along the river for a bit and then back to the high street.

Stony Stratford’s website describes it as ‘The Jewel of Milton Keynes’. Indeed it seemed quite nice, though it had a bit of a desolate feel on a Sunday as not much was open though the branch of Costa on the high street was doing a roaring trade. Here’s a time lapse sequence of an afternoon in Bridge Meadow, posted on YouTube. The crazy things some folk do.

As per usual, constructed a modest Halloween display of this candle and munchkin. Ray didn’t make it up this year, unlike the previous two, but we did manage a long telephone conversation, though this didn’t involve too much of a spiritual bent but did include our shared loathing of antique shops, though I can't quite remember how that came up.

Ruth and I had a healthy country walk on 3 November through Caversham Heights, across Caversham Heath golf course and down through Park Wood to Mapledurham, where we poked briefly around the village and the churchyard that adjoins Mapledurham House, before walking back to Caversham along the footpath that eventually emerges onto the end of The Warren. We had, unusually, booked for Sunday lunch at the Griffin, which was very pleasant – I rarely order roasts when eating out but occasionally they have their place. Beef was overcooked, as it more often than not is, but it wasn’t bad.

Came across a weird monument while walking through Park Wood, which must originally have commanded views down to the house but is now pretty overgrown. Haven't been able to find out much about it but this blog entry mentions it.

Day in London last Thursday to attend Ipsos MORI's annual NSS conference, held at the Church House Conference Centre in Westminster. A moderately useful day though some of it is less than relevant to the OU as a distance learning institution. Did derive some amusement from observing that the somewhat irritating speaker from Oxford had misspelled 'Bodleian' on one of his slides.

Progressing reasonably well with Discovering Mathematics, though I believe I am about to encounter surds, and really don’t have a clue what those are.