Albert Green

Well. The great and much anticipated day arrives - Erroll is 'Game On'! Dad says the day was a bit weird and the Errollness has not really sunk in yet. He has spent all day with all the work lot being really nice to him, telling him they'll miss him and the place won't be the same without him and so on.

They had a bit of a whip round and he got loads of cards, with people not really knowing whether to settle on a 'happy retirement' card, a 'sorry you're leaving' card or just a 'good luck' card with shamrocks etc. There were some nice gifts as well as a very silly one - they had latched onto the fact that this 'project' involved Ireland and probably an increased amount of gardening, so a green gnome had been purchased.

The ladies in Dad's team decided this gnome needed a name and looked a bit like a (naughty) Albert, so he was named Albert Green. He sat on the window sill all day till about 3pm when Dad was looking to escape, where-upon the fire alarms went off and they all had to evacuate to the mustering points. Unbeknownst to Dad, one of the girls had snaffled the gnome and taken him down to Reception, where they had persuaded to Security Guards to produce for the gnome a proper access turnstile card with ID, photo, name and status "colleague".

This they'd fitted into a clip with proper logo'd lanyard and strung it round his neck. They still had him in their clutches when the alarm went off, so they took him down to mustering and made Dad hold him while his name was called out on the fire register. He (Albert) is now on a charge for not having ticked in on the fire register sheet.

Dad had a great hour working his way all round the depot bidding all the various teams farewell in the offices around the site, with many hugs, kisses, good wishes and handshakes. Finally, returning to his own work area he bid that lot adieu and , on exiting, turned round and raised a great cheer and a riot of clapping by saying "OK Here I go, clocking out for the last ever time! A round of applause please!", holding his card to the 'prox-reader' with a flourish.

Now he's home and is believed to be heading into the Jennings "Cocker Hoop" (beer) at a bit of a rate, so I better sign off before he's incapable of helping me type this. Anyway, Mum's doing steak and chips, fizz etc.

It's going to be a blast

Deefs

Erroll minus 1

How bizarre is this behaviour from the Hoppers camp last weekend? They barbecued a Ukulele. I have to stress that this is not some expensive rare, hand made musical instrument, not the Stradivarius of Ukes. These guys have got into Uke playing over the last few camps/years and are now getting quite good at it, as well as moving upwards from the cheap instruments they bought to try it out, up to some sensible quality equipment capable of producing a good toon.

The guy pictured here just right of centre is also a brilliant engineer and craftsman and has made several of his own ukes with designs inspired by the bonnet of the Citroen H-Van, or built around cigar boxes etc. This sacrificial uke was one of the first £3 Chinese made cheapo ones they owned and had long since become disgusted by as an instrument incapable of producing any music so, feeling a bit silly half way through the camp's communal barbecue, and almost for a bet, they decided to see how long the poor old thing took to burn on the barbecue.

Oh - by the way, the enormous bulbous guitar-ish weapon being twanged by the guy on the left is a Mexican "Guitaron".

Dad is now looking at his last day at the old place before Erroll cuts in for real and has been trying to cram as much info as possible into the new bloke against a viciously short deadline. Tomorrow he's in early to bid adieu to his old mates on the night shift and then to do the last day before clocking out for the last time. He's feeling very weird and disconnected. It has not really hit home yet.

Bizarre

Deefs

Windfall

As Dad slides into his last couple of weeks before Project Erroll kicks off properly, and it's all getting a bit scary, a significant financial event (let's call it a windfall, for want of a more detailed description) happens today. This is roughly a month earlier than estimated and predicted, so we all suspect this may be yet another foul-up by those who have become known as "Human Remains", but on this occasion, we cannot hear Mum and Dad complaining. Party time?

Boris is now so well settled in that we will all miss him when he goes home, and probably he will miss us. Morning and evening, mad , loud, scurrying playtime kicks off and all three dogs charge about in and out of the house, round the ground floor rooms, sometimes up and down the stairs and often up and down the garden. Haggis seems to have been rejuvenated by all this and enthusiastically joins in, as well as sometimes attempting to mount Boris and doing a few pelvic thrusts just to make the point that, at 14, he's still young and virile enough for Deefer (Thank You very much, Boris!). This is something no-one's seen him do for about 10 years!

We are all getting nice long walks and Boris's mission on these is to stick to me like glue, so that the two leads are the same length, the four shoulders are in perfect line abreast, and two tails wag in synchronicity, as one. Boris though, is showing a variety of bizarre behaviours which reminds the humans that he is yet, a silly young Pup. These include a desire to rip up white toilet tissue rolls under the main bed leaving them roughly spherical in shape and lying in a snow drift of tissue snow flakes under said bed. He is also prone to pup accidents, and the landing carpet may well get replaced as soon as his back is turned. There have also been similar 'events' on the spare bed.

Have a good weekend

Deefs

Professional Photographer

With the professional photographer from the Estate Agent due tomorrow and Mum critically appraising some of the pictures already up on their website ("Some of them haven't even made the beds!") this weekend has seen a mad flurry of de-cluttering and 'stage managing' the rooms likely to be depicted. Our normal style in this house is to live among a clutter of "stuff" - newspapers put down over there, too many coats hanging on the coat rack, work-diaries, security pass card on lanyard and pens on the mantle piece, book shelves over-stuffed with books we'll never refer to again wedged in all ways, empty fruit bowls, shoes in the hearth and so on.

You should see it now! The shelves are stripped of all but a few token books. The theory is that because most people these days are not bookie, a room that shouts 'Books!' too loud gives them a bad (non-buying) vibe; likewise a clutter of doggie stuff or children's toys. You need, we are told, to gently suggest 'family' or 'clever and educated' or 'fit and healthy' or 'good food' but in a way where the potential buyer's subconscious can edit it out and move on to noticing things they could do with the place.

So, books are being purged (bagged and boxed and lugged upstairs pending a formal "what's in Erroll and what's out" sort out), mantle shelves stripped, glasses, crocks and cutlery being rendered 'out of shot', dog-stuff (gasp) being written out of history and everything else seriously "audited". The fire hearth and grate are back up from the shed but all tools are down there.

Cleaning, hoovering, polishing are the order of the day and even weeds and plants which have dared lean across the garden paths are being judiciously controlled. Mum has even taken a few test-photos (see above) which have been scrutinised like our Reconnaissance Officers did with aerial photos of enemy V2 sites in the war (OK, slight exaggeration there, she didn't actually get the light-table and high-definition magnifier out!).

Mum has an ongoing running joke with her Irish chums on the interweb about what bits of lifestyle are "Cafflick" and which bits "Proddingstant".We are definitely on the Proddingstant end of the spectrum right now. Wish us luck tomorrow.

Deefs

Keep your heads down, ladies

There's all sorts going on today, so we get our walk good and early with Dad, unusually for a Saturday, setting the alarm clock. It'll never do! Roll on Project Erroll!. Main event is the local Horticultural Society's annual dinner where Dad, as Treasurer, has to be around to round up the money from the few last non-paying stragglers.

Before that we need to move the 2CV down to Llew's workshop. Although the old girl passes her MOT every year, the floor pan and 'fire-wall' are becoming an embarrassing patchwork of welded-in metal bits and Llew advises Dad that it's probably time to start again with a major body job, ripping out and replacing inner and outer firewall, both sills and floor pans both sides of the chassis. Luckily, on a bolt-together 2CV it's not that difficult (or expensive) to lift the body shell off the chassis and get at the underside, cut all that lot out and weld in new. So 'Clara Bow' is away in hospital at present and the driveway is full of 'sensible' cars.

As main contact for the local branch of the 2CV club, Dad gets quite a few calls from would-be owners trying to buy, and would-be sellers trying to offload cars. Quite often these can be neatly knitted together, but Dad usually passes any 'for sale' cars onto Llew, and so it was the gang were off to Stelling Minnis, a village SE of Canterbury to see a car which turned out to be one we knew. 8-9 years ago this car was fully restored by a N Irish chum Sam. Sam then moved back to NI leaving the car for Dad to sell, in his wake. Sam's now back from NI and Dad wonders whether he might be a possible customer for his old friend.

Meanwhile as the Arab World lives in interesting times we have both Llew's some-time girlfriend (Jean) and Steak-Lady currently out there on holiday. Keep your heads down, ladies.

Deefs

Brand New Life

Dad finally gets given the letter he's been waiting for by his work, which signifies Project Erroll and what is now being called "Brand New Life" (BNL) has a green light. We have a significant date of Thursday 30th June (the significance of which will already be known by those who need to know). It's going to be an interesting 6 months, for sure but from June onwards everything is possible.

He admits to feeling quite relieved at this stage, to have a fixed date after all the shambolic uncertainty and scatalogical stuff produced since the first announcement over 6 months ago and the disappointing and completely disorganised ineptness of certain parties since, it is not a scene he wants too much to do with. 'Nuff said on that subject.

Meanwhile, we hear that the Silverwoods have inherited, at least temporarily (yeah, right), a westie pup. Again, can't say too much, but the dog comes to them from one in Dublin's Fair City whom we shall call Mr Tester. Mr T acquired the pup to "give comfort to his wife and small child while he worked abroad 6 months" and delivered it (surprise!) a few days before leppin' on an aeroplane and leaving Mrs T to it.

Mrs T may have thought this was a nice sweet thing to do, but Mrs T is one of those who keeps an immaculate house with white carpets and obsessive tidiness, like something out of vogue magazine. She doesn't "do" dogs and has no experience of pups, no idea how much potential for mess they can create, and not the first inkling on how to train them or how long it takes.

Only a couple of days into this project, therefore, she realised that the pup was A BAD IDEA but could not realistically change things while Mr T was still around. So she plotted with Mr Silverwood for him to kidnap the pup the minute Mr T's back was turned, and were this blog the plot of a film, there would now follow a superb sequence of military planning and skulduggery, cloak and dagger stuff, cars racing through the night along the darkened rain lashed streets of the city, secret assignations to hand over house keys, guilt-stricken mother distracting small son with trips to the shops so he'd be out of the house at the crucial time and more secret rendezvous to get the keys back. Your mission Mr S, should you choose to accept it......

Suffice to say the cunning plan went off successfully and the small white fluffy 9-week-old parcel is now in the Silverwoods's house being loved up by Em-J, J-M, M and R (plus, no doubt Mr and Mrs S and the 1-year old Yorkie, 'Coco'. He will definitely feel he has landed firmly on his feet. It is not reported how small-boy feels about this or, indeed, how the "phoning from abroad, missing you" conversations will go, or how long it will take Mr T to suss the cuckolding. The plot was so hurriedly executed that Mr Silverwood did not get time to ask name of small white fluffy pup, so on arrival he was renamed Maxwell.

...That's just between these 4 walls, right?

Deefs

Happy New Year

New Year's Eve and Dad is home in daylight so we get a decent walk, ending up at the Rec where a goodly gathering of Dog Walking humans collect as night falls, to wish each other Happy New Year and compare notes on who had to work when over the Seasonal 'break'. Springers LB and DK are out there and, out of nowhere, Haggis's old chum and 13 and a half year co-puppy Barney-Boy (now still trying to race about but apparently on 'metacam' (?) for his arthritis stiffness.

Meanwhile Dad gets a little flicker of life from Project Erroll as his Boss, in the 2nd last sentence of a 4-sentence chat (the last one was "Happy New Year"!) gives him to beleive that June 29th 2011 might be a significant date. However, no-one in this house is holding their breaths, as this has been so off/on, shambolic and woolly, that we'd equally believe June 2012! You never know, though. perhaps 2011 will see some genuine decisions and actual movement. Watch this space.

Sooooo.... all the best for 2011 everyone and our best wishes to all our readers. Do you realise we have now been going for over 880 posts? No wonder I'm tired.

Happy New Year

Deefs

Sinking into the Swamp

A couple more nice snowy pics, the first just a bike in the boat yard which we liked the look of, the second taken a few seconds before yesterday's 'miserable Haggis' one. You can see the H trotting off to stage-right (picture left) to check out the iron paling fence. More snow is forecast for tonight.

Meanwhile, those interested in Project Erroll may be wondering what's going on and why you have had no updates. This is bacause at least one aspect of the possible future is sinking into the swamp, and all the moves and official notices have been put on hold. Dad is therefore carrying on regardless and battling through the normal Christmas peak in business, uncertain when the top bananas will make a move and firm up on any arrangements. Watch this space - there's not a lot any of us can do.....

Having worked both days at the weekend he is, though, able to skank and early finish this afternoon and gets home in time to walk us in the daylight round the Rec where we can have a run around in the snow with old friends Patch and Bindy, and 2 black labs who we see a lot but Dad can't recall the names of.

Deefs