Everyone in Bath seemed to be in awe, fear and excitement of the storms and lightning strikes last night. Reading through my Twitter feed, many were linking it to the Scottish independence votes, and the weather being an ominous sign of God getting angry. No it wasn’t!
Sadly, I was unable to appreciate the Biblical storm, due to living in fear, following the spider attack, which happened earlier in the evening. If God was indeed angry about the Scots, not only had he sent a big storm, but a plague of eight legged freaks.
The lights in our house were flicking on and off. Things looked bad. A power cut looked imminent. Given the recent spider encounter, a total blackout within the house would not have been good at all. Before bed, I intended to search all clothing, bed sheets, pillows for creepy crawlies… heck, I would have torn up the carpet if had we not put down a hefty deposit on our rented property.
Luckily, the lights did not go out, so I was able to complete all the necessary safety checks. I was not killed in my bed by spiders either, although as I am blogging, you probably already assumed that. I did have a disturbed night, however, as I was aware of the presence of what I believed to be millions of spiders in the bedroom, all ready to crawl on me and devour my body.
I hope tonight is spiderless.
My apologies to our neighbours, who would almost certainly have heard screaming and shouting from our house this evening. Claire and I were not trying to murder each other – we were dealing with the first (and hopefully last) gigantic spider of 2014. I was happily downstairs, preparing lunch for work tomorrow, when I heard Claire shriek from the bathroom. She had spotted an eight-legged beast on our landing. I can’t deal with spiders at all, so Claire had to be the man of the house and deal with it. After lots of swearing and further screams, I managed to find a huge jar in the downstairs cupboard and bring it Claire to save the day. She eventually plucked up the courage to put the jar over it, something I would never be able to do. We then had the challenge of sliding paper underneath the jar, to flip it upside down. Five minutes followed, along with even more screams and profanities, but the spider was contained. We then walked it halfway up the street, in the middle of a thunder storm, forgetting any other phobias of lightning, and let it out on the pavement. I watched as it run off, in the direction of our neighbours houses. Cue mayhem in their house tonight when it finds its way under the front door.
If you speak to your grandparents, they will tell you tales of how Avon Ladies would come knocking on their doors, selling soap, perfume and other smelly products. These days, we have something called “shops”, so we can stay clean and avoid stinking like a tramp, without the need to rely upon the Avon Lady.
The Avon Lady is dead… or so I thought. Claire’s work colleague is an Avon Lady and is very much alive. Her primary job is not selling shampoo. The Avon stuff is more of a side project, presumably to earn a bit of pocket money.
The point of tonight’s blog is not to go on about Claire’s colleague. It is to mention a product I saw in the Avon catalogue that Claire brought home from work. It seems that these Avon Ladies don’t just sell smelly stuff these days. There is a (very limited) amount of homeware too – most of which is, to be frank, crap. In amongst the placemats and towels, I spotted this…
How cool is that? It is a mug in the shape of an owl’s face, with a SPOON to stir your drink and best of all a little CARDIGAN to keep your choice of beverage hot for longer. It is an amazing invention –why have I not seen this on Dragons Den?
When I showed my own work colleagues this fabulous product, they didn’t appear to be in as much awe as I was. In fact one of them suggested it was something which her young daughter would like and not a fully grown man. Pfft! I’m asking Claire to order me an owl mug, which I’ll bring into work. They’ll all be so jealous.
Bournemouth 1-3 Super Leeds
Wow. I certainly didn’t see that one coming, especially checking my phone, 10 minutes into the match, only to see we were losing.
I wonder what Dave Hockaday thinks of the score…
Today we attended a wedding fair in Bristol. A lot of progress has been made since we attended another wedding fair almost a year ago today, but an awful lot more has still to be done, before the big day – 278 days, 1 hour, 48 minutes and 24 seconds away. 16 seconds now… now 9… now 5.. now 3… you get the idea.
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
