Death on the DLR.....

So.... what happened to November? All I remember was anticipating October.... then it was Halloween.... tons of candy and about 10 kids show up.... then I was in the Big Quiz for the Heart Foundation or Cancer Research... I can't recall which... but it was all for CHAR-ID-EE, man.... then my shoulder nearly got 'sanded' by Dragon's Den outcast Richard Fairleigh's overgrown designer stubble while I scurried to keep pace with my boss as he scuttled through the Barbican.... my boss was not impressed with my celeb sighting... but I think, "hey, Heat Magazine carried the man's sacking from the show - that's fame, that is!" (I'm easily star struck)... Seriously, though, he really need a shave - looked so scruffy despite the head-to-toe Ralph Lauren 'weekend wear'....... and the only other standout thing that happened is my malevolent backpack (which I have nicknamed Mildred in an attempt to make it less threatening, I'm borrowing the principle from those people who keep demented Dobermans called 'Fluffy') tried to kill me on the DLR - seriously, I got up to line up to hop off at Canning Town, grabbed part of the train's internal skeleton which is handily there so you can keep your balance but really just remind you of the monkey bars that haunted your childhood, swung Mildred up, the train rocked alarmingly over a crunchy piece of track and next thing you know I was swirling backwards while holding onto the pole towards the floor of the carriage.... bearing in mind I was wearing my 'city gent' full length wool coat, clumpy boots and a fake fur Russian-style hat, I must have looked like the scariest, least-likely-to-catch-a-cold-or-expose-even-an-ankle pole dancer in the West! "Dah, vee have vays of scarring for life za young men riding on za VLR... vays!I'm still running back and forth to London on average once a week - next week I'm 'in the smoke' (like how much of a misnomer that is these days following the smoking ban) twice. My plan was to nip down to Surrey from time to time to check out new abodes - I've only managed this once so far, but did manage to completely fall for a lovely little nest above an antique shop in Coulsden.... it fell through because we weren't planning on moving before Christmas and the landlord got someone who wanted to move in straight away.... this was after I'd booked and paid for train tickets for Fereday to come down to see it, worse luck! He went to look at one in Seven Oaks instead, but that landlord doesn't fancy the rabbits moving in.... this may be the biggest hurdle, though I confess I don't understand.... rabbits, unlike children, stay in their own little homes unless fully supervised, cannot use magic marker to write a letter to Santa on the wall, don't stay up crying all night (no vocal cords), don't smell (like babies and teenage boys), can be fully toilet trained (i.e., they don't miss the bowl!!), don't make excessive noise (TV, music, etc.), and can't burn the house down (either on purpose or by accident). Our rabbits even have their own clause in the rental contract for the house in Halifax - they are responsible enough to practically be considered tenants in West Yorkshire - and they say London is so metropolitan and civilised.... hmmm??

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Comments

Pip Howard November 24, 2009 at 8:10pm

Taste great in a red wine sauce also.
Graeme @ BGS November 24, 2009 at 10:17pm

Don't you find that they have too many small bones? :-)

Great blog as always Cat.
Cat Fereday November 28, 2009 at 11:07am

I've never tried children cooked in a red wine sauce.... but too many small bones, you think, Graeme???
Andrew Garner November 29, 2009 at 12:36am

White wine sauce for children, definately. We dont want to end up as complete philistines.
Cat Fereday November 29, 2009 at 12:38am

Fava beans...
Andrew Garner November 29, 2009 at 12:41am

You go too far Madam, shocking - a simple sprinkle of celery salt and no more than a chopped green pepper.