Over there in the side bar… I’ve added a way for you to email me ‘Contact Me’ and I’m also carefully choosing some old photos to put up on the ‘Blasts From The Past’ page. Keep an eye on these because if you’ve been on a night out with me at some point you may appear!
Archive for April, 2008
Free Office Software
I found a brilliant set of programs to rival Microsoft Office Professional today and the package is FREEWARE!
Open Office is a suite of open source applications which you can use to open/edit your existing office documents as well as create new ones with all the ease and simplicity of the menus you may or may not already be familiar with from the MS packages. Open source means not only is it free but the code is available to everyone and you can contribute to how these apps are developed….(if you’re proper nerdy cool like that)
The package consists of:
Base (like Access) (Database creation and editing. Also perform queries and reports)
Calc (like Excel) (Perform calculation and manage spreadsheets)
Draw (cross between Power Point and Publisher) (Edit images, create flowcharts, plans and diagrams etc.)
Impress (like Power Point) (Create multimedia presentations)
Writer (like Word) (Create and edit documents, letters etc. supports table formatting and most media objects)
It’s available to both Mac OSX and PC.
I’m only a basic user of Word, Excel etc at home and use it for little more than the simple functions at work… in other words I’m no big Management Accountant churning out hardcore dull old intricate spreadsheets on a daily basis (like some of my friends do) so I couldn’t possibly comment on just how complex these apps will let you get. However, if you’re up for writing sweary letters to Asda because they stopped carrying your favourite non-meat chicken style pieces and would enjoy saving £100-£300 because you didn’t have to fork out to Bill Gates’ pocket, then what are you waiting for? CLICK THE LINK kids!
I Laugh Through My Nose WAY Too Much
I can think of many ways to enjoy a free hour of my time….Sitting in the car with Wil videoing our every move with my little camera is probably not the best use of that time. However, it gave me a little insight into me whereby I learned a few things I never realised…….
An Hour In The Car from RaceFox on Vimeo.
1. I preceed far too many giggles with an annoying snort through my nose.
2. I giggle so much I make us look like we’ve been together 5 minutes, not 5 years.
3. My adams apple is a bit prominent…. should I begin worrying about my testosterone levels?
4. If Wil begins intently folding a receipt – cover your face and do not await the production of a cute origami swan.
Brat In The Pack
Cameron joined his Cub Scout pack for the St. Georges Day Parade through Stowmarket on Sunday. Being the parental socially uninvolved Mutha I am I was unaware that this involved an afternoon in church because if I had realised that – I wouldn’t have insisted he went.
The local Scout groups all met in a car park where eventually the 100+ kids were joined by the Salvation Army band. And it was at that point I lost the plot and started in fits of laughter.
The Salvation Army are always a bunch of old blokes who appear any time one needs a small group of old blokes with a bunch of very shiny brass instruments.
On this occasion they solemnly marched around the corner to the beat of the big bass drum more like they were on their way to a funeral rather than a Sunday Parade in honor of the Patron Saint of England and part time dragon slayer.
The band stopped in front of the kids where Wil, not helping my case of uncontrollable laughter leaned towards my ear and whispered ‘it’s a face off… its going to be brass band carnage any second”.
The band turned around and led the group of scouts out of the car park and off down through the town centre. The whole lot of them had expressions on their faces as though they were being led off to the gas chambers – had I known what they knew about their impending stint in St Peters Church I would have understood. Sadly I just smiled and waved as Cameron marched by throwing us the Cubs salute looking like John Cleese in the Monty Python clip of the Ministry of Funny Walks .
“You did that” Wil whispered with faux distaste at Cams actions… Too right, I thought, at least one kid was appreciating the comedy around him.
Skinny Chatty Frappy Latte
After sending the boy off to parade around town with the cubs for St. Georges Day we hit Tescos in Stowmarket for a coffee because we thought stumbling back from the pub to collect the boy from church might not go down too well…
A Yellow Shade of Yellow
I’ve been using my scooter to go to and from work for the last couple of days and today I stopped on my way home from work to take a few photos.
Currently most of the fields around here are planted with Rapeseed which is grown for a few reasons, a couple of which that I know of being Vegetable Oil and Animal Feeds. I also think it may be used to make BioDiesel – so I know of 3 reasons. Whatever its use I can tell you that once it has flowered it emits a heavy pungent stink that emanates through your windows, doors and air vents in the car like a waft of week old badger road kill on a warm day. It makes your nose and eyes irritated too, but hey it looks STUNNING and I didn’t mind standing there taking photos while sporting the protective bubble of my crash helmet, until I looked ahead, followed those power lines and found a big ass pylon sat right behind me just waiting to drop those cables on my head.
I’ve Fed And Watered It For 10 Years!
Being the kind of person who was not graced with an overwhelming love for children or the skills to cope with one or more kids without swearing in their faces within seconds of being around them it came as a bit of a surprise to most people that I actually had one of my own.
Cameron arrived in the world 10 days late, just after lunch time and after a short labour. From the time the Pitocin drip decided he was making an entrance in the world to the time he appeared in the room took only 15 minutes, an event that was a walk in the park compared to the 5 months of gut wrenching projectile vomiting he put me through 4 months earlier and much easier than the barrel-load of lip he gives me these days!
However, despite on many occasions leaving him strapped in shopping trollies and car seats while I walked off forgetting my new attachment I have managed to keep ahold of the little blighter.
When you’re Cameron’s age you celebrate birthdays as being one more year closer to getting your ear pierced, learning to drive, smoking weed, getting a paper round, all things that do not require your parents permission and being able to do anything that does NOT make them say ‘while you’re living under my roof”.
I on the other hand like to celebrate his birthday as one more self-adulating triumph that I managed to keep him alive, well and growing into the handsome little man he’s becoming…. I don’t have luck like that with my plants!
Happy Birthday Blonde!
Who Does It Belong To?…Oh
A comment to a previous post made me laugh because it made me remember a time back in the day when my little brother and I were kids.
It was a time when, for pre-teenage girls the hottest thing ever was to have a little suitcase style bag which you took to school with you every day. Mine was a small caramel coloured case with silver metal corners and a hinged carry handle on one side. The lid closed by two small silver clips and it had an optional padlock which, when I lost the key I could poke open with a paperclip.
Every girl that I can remember around that time had one of these little cases to carry books and pens etc to school in. The cases were all pretty similar but what made them unique was the stickers we put all over them.
The stickers were tiny little pictures mostly the size of a 10p coin and you had to go to a particular shop in town where they sold a strip the size you wanted from a large roll. Some of the stickers were glittery, others were plain prints of little animals and stuff. As a side note that shop had box upon shelf upon basket full of beads, pins, strings, ribbons, clips and other miscellaneous sparkly pieces that I had no idea of their use. I’d frequently buy odds and sods and take them home all enthused about making beautiful jewelry but somehow those bits lost their sparkle when they were taken from the shop. They usually ended up in mums hoover.
The stickering of items didn’t end at my little suitcase. I had a really high bed which had a desk area underneath it. My stepdad built the bed for me and at one end there was a thick wooden supporting post which I’d covered with stickers from the top to the bottom. Amongst these stickers was a rather popular one which was about 5cm long by 1.5cm wide, yellow with black writing which said”
“THIS BELONGS TO RENEE”
My brother, Sam, also had a packet of these stickers, although I seem to remember his being blue.
What happened at some point is that one of our stickers appeared fixed to an object outside of our rooms and this laid down the gauntlet for an entire stickathon because when you’re 11 and 6 years old sibling rivalry and one upmanship dictates that HELL NO – IF YOU OWN THE FRONT DOOR THEN I’M OWNING THE STAIRS.
I’m not quite sure how my mum coped because the entire house became absolutely covered with these damn stickers. When you sat on the toilet, you wiped with a roll owned by SAM and when you had a drink that cup belonged to RENEE. Dinner each night was sponsored by both SAM and RENEE as each of the knives and forks had been labelled. In some places you could identify a particular tension point – I mean it became doubly important to own the dog. Rusty’s collar had a SAM sticker on it and when I saw that the little pain in the arse had claimed the dog I didn’t stand for it so I stuck a RENEE sticker over the top of his. That caused an argument that lasted for days and I couldn’t tell you how many times I heard the line “you’re older you should know better”. I DID know better which is why I wasted no time at all before I went back and restickered a 2nd sticker over the top of my brothers 2nd sticker which was stuck over my first sticker which was covering his first sticker on the dog collar. Rusty got owned about 8 times before I took her collar off and hid it.
I don’t remember how long this malarkey went on for but I do know that those stickers were found for years after we left home. Poor parents had frazzled nerves and I’m sure I caused my little brother enough grief that has probably given him a nervous tick to this day.
You know what though? The fact I still own the small section of white waste pipe under the kitchen sink in that house is SO worth it.
Stuff I Want…
I should create a page for the ongoing list of stuff I want.. The key word here being WANT and not NEED. I’ve wanted a Blythe Doll for years – god knows why. I just think they are infinitely cool – even if I am 35. Oh come on.. I have to give Wil a reason to moan that I’m ‘spending all his money’ – there’d just be no reason for him to work so damn hard if I didn’t
YOU sniff my chair!
I laughed so hard at work today. One of the girls in the office returned to her chair where she suddenly noticed that this chair didn’t appear to be her chair. Her chair, she recalled, was clean and newer looking whereas this chair had a dirty great stain creeping across most of the seat and a white substance covering a small portion of the black plastic around the front of it. She stood there examining the seat for a few minutes perplexed trying to figure out who the hell would have swapped their chair for hers. One particular person in the office would be the sort of person to pull a stunt like that – a quick examination of his chair showed this was not the case as his chair was black and not green. In fact out of all 30 chairs in the building the 8 chairs in our area are the only ones identical to hers.
Confirming our chairs were all still positioned at the correct height and back adjustment specific to our individual requirements the 3 of us sat there staring at Dirty Chair Girl. We decided she’d obviously just not noticed that while she’d not been there on a particular day someone must have spilled their coffee on that chair. The only way she could narrow this down was to check with the other woman who uses that desk on 2 days of the week.
I stood up and peered over her desk at the mucky stain.
“Do you think that’s coffee?” I asked.
“I DON”T KNOW” she gasped
“smell it”
“YOU SMELL IT”
“I’m not smelling it – your arse has been on it!” I laughed
At this point the four of us were in fits of laughter
“I mean, I like you and all that…. you’re a top bird an all but I draw the line at sniffing your chair”
It was around this point the rest of us being helpful trusting girls decided to write our names on our chairs just incase ours were liable to be involved in some sort of covert swappage operation later on. You gotta watch your back in the office these days.
Fox's Den 
