Computer Speak : A Brief Guide

Computer Message: "Error 404. The server understood your request but did not fulfil it" (yes, I really got this message once)

Translation: "The server cannot be arsed to do any work today"

Computer Message: "File not found"

Translation: "S*it, I've lost it"

Computer Message: "Update required, restart computer now or later?" (repeated every 10 seconds)

Translation: "I really feel like irritating someone today, and you're it"

Computer Message: "Twitter is over capacity"

Translation: "I am sick of you. Leave me alone"

Computer Message: "Your profile is temporarily unavailable"

Translation: "You spend too much time on Facebook and we have evicted you"

Computer Message: "Your battery is running critically low..."

Translation: "GET AWAY FROM ME CRAZY LADY"

"Je Suis Une Goone"

Whilst talking to our next door neighbours over the fence, Mr B and I learned that he is onto a super summer job. He is getting paid £300 per day to lecture some French students. Now, I admit my maths isn't great at times, but I'm sure that's an awesome rate. 

As Mr B and I were driving to the gym, we discussed this in more detail:

Me: "I'm totally going to get a summer job teaching English Lit to French students"

Mr B: "But you can't speak any French"

Me: "I know all the important things in French"

Mr B: "Like what?"

Me: "Bonjour. Je m'apelle. Une crepe au chocolate. Deux crepe au chocolate. Je vais chatre le garcon."

Mr B: "You're a goon"

Me: "Je suis une goone. ... oh wait, you didn't mean for me to translate that did you?"

Point proven I think.

The Dog Days Are Over

1. There is no such thing as a relaxing bath. You can fill the bath with the nicest bubbles in the world. You can even lie back and close your eyes if you so desire. Rest assured you will be brought back to reality to find yourself nose to nose with a puppy drinking your bath water.

2. Children and dogs are very similar: you spend a lot of time shouting their name, telling them to sit / stand still and chasing them around places they shouldn't be going. On balance, I think I prefer puppies.

3. You do not want a dog to fall asleep with it's backside in the vicinity of your face. Especially when you cannot move and even more so when said dog has eaten seaweed. Enough said.

4. Puppies are fickle creatures. They are only interested in you when it suits them. In my case, Freya was only interested in me when she could have cuddles on the sofa.

5. Puppies will try to steal your food. You must be vigilant at all times. Especially when you have leftover carrot cake, or a pot of cream. Some puppies are capable of making healthy food choices: Freya jumped up at the table to pinch food off my plate and chose ... the orange garnish. Low calorie and one of her five a day!

6. Puppy cuddles are the best.

7. I quite want a puppy now please. 

A Note About Pronunciation

No doubt everyone in the world has heard about the man in Northumberland with a gun and a whole load of police looking for him. Even my mother in New Zealand has heard about it (and promptly decided to panic as this is not too far away from where I live). I do not wish to comment on the specifics of the story: it is far too horrible and there is nothing amusing about it. However, having watched and listened to the (almost constant) news about this matter, I have come to the conclusion that a little note about pronunciation is required for the guidance of the press and news reporters:

1. Rothbury is pronounced Rothbury - exactly as it is written. It is not Roath-berry. That sounds far too posh for a northern village. 

2. Similarly, Seaton Delaval is pronounced See-ton Del-a-val not See-town Dee-la-vaal. 

3. Also, Ponteland is pronounced Pont-ee-land, not Ponty-land. 

Finally, I would like to add a little note to the reporter who insists on referring to Rothbury as "the wilds of Northumberland". Rothbury is not wild: it is rural. Granted, down South, 'rural' is anywhere where people have that green stuff in the general vicinity of their houses, so I can understand the confusion. For clarification, "the wilds" are places where people do not live, unless they are being brought up by wolves or other wild animals, as in The Jungle Book. Rothbury is not the jungle.  

Please correct yourselves accordingly!  

Paper Theft Auto

On an average day at work, not many exciting things happen, unless of course you are in need of a day when everything goes to plan, as we were last week...

At the critical point when the printer, photocopier and fax machine ran out of paper all at the same time, we simultaneously discovered that the key to the stationary cupboard had been misplaced. Yes, we lock our paper away. People eat it if you don't hide it well. To add to the pressure, the Higher Ups were in residence at the office that day doing some kind of serious inspection. 

We ransacked the office looking for the key, but did not find it. We (or rather I) then attempted to pick the lock to the stationary cupboard, but to no avail. I had to make a mad dash to the nearest key cutters (approximately 20 minutes walk away). I walked as fast as my high heels would carry me, only to find that the shop had run out of template keys. On my return we discovered that the next nearest key cutters was in the town centre, a good twenty minutes away by metro. A colleague, offered to go at lunchtime. So, I handed over the sample key and the lock number and off she went to town. Meanwhile, the office came to a virtual standstill as every scrap of paper in sight had been used up.

A returned to the office a mere two and a half hours after she had left, with a key. We were all so happy to see her, we would have thrown a party, were it not for the pressing issue of the paper. So, off I went with M to collect stacks of paper from the cupboard, only to find that they key A had returned with did not fit the lock. Imagine the horror!! In the absence of a key, M and I decided there was only one thing for it ... we would have to break in. 

However, we still needed the key, so it was left to another colleague, to drop into the shop on her way to work the next day and give them grief for giving us the wrong key, which she promptly did. On her return to the office, it transpired that the key we had been trying to get into the cupboard with was not a key they stock in their shop. Fortunately, they were kind enough to have cut us the correct key anyway.

This led to some confusion as to where the mystery key had come from, if not from the shop.

It was at this point in the discussion that A piped up from her corner of the office : "oh wait a minute ... I think that's the key to my cupboard at home" ... 

Postcard From The Edge

Dear Mammies,

I hope you are having a lovely time in Corfu. I had a wonderful rest in the kennels. 

Thank you for leaving me to look after Mr and Mrs B instead of booking them into the office whilst you were away. I don't think they could have coped with another week there. The Saturday that I got them out of the office was the worst! All they wanted to do was sit around and watch some women hitting balls around on the television, I had other ideas. I took Mr B for a long march around the Golf Course, but there was no shifting Mrs B. She just kept saying something about "wimbledon" and "finals" as if that were important. I have no idea what she was on about.

She was just the same on Sunday afternoon, but fortunately I had marched her around Plessey Woods for a couple of hours before she sat down. I watched some of the TV on Sunday. It was just two men hitting a ball around. I have no idea what all the fuss is about. Honestly!! These two humans were in dire need of puppy supervision. 

I have been getting them up bright and early and giving them a good clean. Mr B never washes behind his ears, so I have to do it for him. He just doesn't learn!! 

They have been thinking that going to the gym is enough exercise for them. It is a nice rest for me when they go out, but I have decided to show them what exercise really is. They have walked so much, you won't even recognise them when you get home. Yesterday, I took them for a short five mile walk in Consett to tire them out. 

Whilst we were there, I lost someone else's puppy an almost knocked an old man over. Mr and Mrs B did not seem very impressed with this, but I thought it was fun. 

They were exhausted afterwards, so I let them have a lie-in until 7.45am today and then I had a snooze on the bed with Mrs B for an hour. They think that I am being nice to them. They don't realise I am just conserving my energy so that I can exercise them even more this afternoon. 

I am currently demolishing the flip flop you so kindly left me in the garden whilst they have their breakfast. I hope you do not mind. 

Look forward to seeing you soon. 

Love, 

Freya xxx

Gym-duction

Picture the scene: it is 8am on a Monday morning. You do not have to be at work because you are on annual leave. You have no other plans. What are you doing with your new found freedom? You are in the gym.

Actually, you probably aren't in the gym. No-one in their right mind is in the gym at 8am on a holiday Monday ... except me, apparently. 

Yes, you read that last part correctly. I was in the gym at 8am on a Monday morning for an induction and for an instructor to make me a training program, which I have to stick to for a long time. The reason I have to stick to it is simple: the gym are taking £33.50 away from my bank account every month and I am a stickler for getting value for money (for example, the chocolate fudge cake I got for tea was exceptional value for money ... Mr B bought it).

I met my gym instructor, Sharon, at 8am. She was very small and sweet looking. This was deceptive. It lulled me into a false sense of security ... and then she pounced. An hour and a half later, without any notion of what I was getting myself into, I had become the (not so) proud owner of a gym program with only one aim: to kill me. Or at least damage me to such an extent that I will have to crawl back to the changing room on my tummy.

I wish I was joking, truly, I do.

It's been so nice knowing you all ...