Christmas Eve

It's Christmas Eve. My celebrations started in earnest this morning when I decided to go to the supermarket early  to finish off the christmas grocery shopping. We'd already got most things, but there were one or two bits and pieces we still needed. My wife had made a list.

So I got up early and arrived at Morrison's (our nearest supermarket), list in hand, at 8am.

The main thing we needed were pigs in blankets. Not real pigs you understand, nor real blankets. That would be silly. Pigs in blankets are mini sausages wrapped in bacon.

I couldn't find any, anywhere. So I asked one of the butchers, who confirmed that they did have some, and that he'd seen them. So we set off together to find them. We failed. We couldn't find them anywhere. A managet walked past. Apparently they'd sold out. I couldn't believe that they'd sold out in the 5 minutes they'd been open (it was now 8:05am). I was wrong, they's sold out in 2 hours and 5 minutes - they'd been open since 6am.

Not wanting to admit defeat, the butcher went round the back to see if they had any there. He came back 5 minutes later with boxes of them.

How many boxes did I want? Not wanting to break with tradition, I asked for 4 punnets - much more than I actually needed.

I found the remaining items on the list - milk, bread, bacon, sausages, crisps, cereal, sausage rolls - with no further ado.

I got home and put everything away before my wife got up. I left the list in a prominent position, with everything ticked off clearly so that when my wife noticed it, she'd think what a marvellous husband I was.

Did she notice?

Of course not. I finally resorted to telling her.

What's the point of trying to be helpful and making life easier for people if they don't even notice?

Since then we've been out to get the turkey, been to Costa for a coffee, and are now making lunch.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

We're off to see The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey today.

We're going to see the 3D version, which either means forking out £1 each to buy a pair of glasses, or digging around to see if we can find the glasses we bought the last time we saw a 3D film at the cinema.

This is the first of 3 movies made from the book. Why did Peter Jackson make such a small book into 3 movies. He made The Lord of the Rings into 3 movies - The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers and The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, but these corresponded to the 3 books that made up the story.

But he's split The Hobbit, a fairly small book, into 3. Why?

One explanation is that there was too much to tell in only 1 or even 2 films; that making less than 3 films would compromise the story.

My personal view is that it allows him to rake in even more money from increased attendances and through merchandising over the next three years.

I don't blame him. I'm sure he's struggling financially like the rest of us. ;-)

What I hate though is being left hanging at the end of the movie, and having to wait a year for the next instalment  only to be left hanging at the end of that one too.

Anyway, let's see what the movie holds. Maybe after seeing it I'll be less cynical, or won't care so much.

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Despite my earlier misgivings about the story being split into 3 in order to screw more money out of the gullible, paying public, I have to admit that the first film was fantastic.

I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was full of action for most of its 169 minutes, and I was not left with the feeling that they'd padded it with unnecessary scenes. I can't wait until the next one comes out.

Christmas Lunch

My team went to Brasserie Blanc in Winchester for our Christmas lunch today. It cost £26.50 each, but that didn't include service charge, tips etc.

The food was very good. I had pasta with roquefort, sweet chestnuts and braised celery to start; Robert Caldecott of Holly Farm's roast turkey breast, chestnut stuffed boned thigh, slow roasted vegetables, bread sauce and port gravy to follow; and Christmas pudding, rum-scented crème anglaise and brandy butter to finish. I also had a coffee and the smallest mince pie I've ever seen. Ever.

It was all very nice.

We also had a secret santa. We'd all previously been out and bought something silly for under £5, wrapped it, and put it in a box in the manager's office. After we'd finished eating, our names were pulled out of a hat (a very nice Australian hat). When our names were called, we picked out a present from the box.

Here's a picture of what I got.

Hilarious, and a little bit disturbing. Who buys something like this? I thought the people I worked with were normal. Clearly there's a weirdo in our midst...

Fizzling Out

This strike is fizzling out. It's easy to be on strike when there's something to strike for, but when that cause goes away, you kind of loose momentum.

Still, if what I'm aiming for is to not be taken for granted, then I can't complain when I'm not being taken for granted.

So the srike is paused, but poised to be reactivated when the need arises. A bit like King Arthur, but without the sword, and without having to sleep in a cave.

We're all going out tonight, to see the school's production of The Little Shop of Horrors. I'm really looking forward to it. I remember the film with Steve Martin, Rick Moranis and Bill Murray from 1986, which was very funny. Should be good.

10 points if you can tell me what the 1986 Little Shop of Horrors movie has in common with Red Dwarf...

Strike Day 1

I haven't told my daughter that I'm on strike, so unless she reads this blog, she won't know.

Day 1 was yesterday.

I left for work early, so didn't get involved in the usual morning pandemonium. I hadn't ironed her school uniform, so was pleased to see her ironing it as I left. Brownie point #1.

As far as I'm aware, she got to the school bus and then to school without causing anybody else any stress. Brownie point #2.

I left work a little later than I planned, so I was worried that I'd be late home. I got a call from my daughter as I was driving home (car has built-in, voice-activated hands-free, so taking the call required no more effort than pressing a button on the steering column). Could she go round her friend's house? I said yes. It was on her way home and meant I didn't need to worry about being late. I added that I'd pick her up when I got there. She wanted to stay longer, but didn't argue. Brownie point #3.

When we got home, I reminded her to do her homework, get her bag ready for school the next day, and have a shower. I wanted her to have a shower before 10pm. I didn't need to ask again. These all got done by the deadline I'd set. Brownie points #4, #5 and #6.

So yesterday was not a good day. It was an excellent day, and I'm happy.

This is why today I'm willing to pick her and her boyfriend up after school so that they can hang out for a few hours until his mum comes to pick him up.

On Strike

It's official. I'm on strike - at home, not at work. I've had enough, and it's time I did something about it.

I seem to have become my daughter's servant. I pick-up, wash and iron her clothes, I cook her meals, I drive her and her friends here, there and everywhere, I give her pocket money.

What does she do in return? Nothing.

Take yesterday for example. She had a guitar exam. I re-arranged my work schedule so I could take her there. I made sure her school knew she wouldn't be in until the afternoon. I took her to the exam, bought her lunch in Pizza Hut afterwards, and then took her to school. After school I got a text from her asking if she could go to the nearby shopping centre with her friend. I said yes. This also meant I had to drive down there later to pick her up.

I inconvenienced myself for her benefit. I put her first.

When we got home at about 6pm, I asked her to get her homework done, to get her school bag and uniform ready for tomorrow, and to have a shower BEFORE settling down and relaxing for the evening. Her response was to tell me to shut up and to stop nagging; that she would do things in her own time. She went up to the study and sat in front of facebook chatting to her friends.

I carried on working at my laptop on the dining room table.

At 10.30pm, 4.5 hours later, she was still on facebook! I told her to go an have a shower. Our shower is in my en-suite. I was about to go to bed and did not want my daughter traipsing through my bedroom once I was in bed. She again told me to shut up and to stop nagging. I told her that once I went to bed, the shower would be out of bounds. She stomped upstairs, claiming that she was already going to go and have a shower.

Half an hour later I went upstairs to go to bed. She was in the study, on facebook again. She had not had a shower. So I told her that she'd have to go without. Of course she argued the point. I went to bed and jammed the door shut. She went without a shower.

This is how my daughter is most of the time. She expects me to put myself out for her, but does nothing for me. She argues every point.

Well I've had enough. From now on, I'm doing nothing for her. I'll not pick up her clothes, wash her clothes, iron her clothes, or transport her or her friends anywhere. Not unless there's something in it for me, or I see a marked improvement in her behaviour. She's not a 5 year old any more, so I expect her not to behave like one.