Yes, I do mean my early and probably not the majority of the population's view of early but this ismy grumpy blog.
I really do not need to be awake at 7.00am! I am well into in my pre-dotage years and so have finished with the jobs that require me to be up at the crack of dawn [and earlier]. I now go to bed very late - just because I can - and expect to wake up equally as late [some hope] ... And no, I don't care how early RG Group and their associates had to get up to be here to make all this noise ... moan, whinge.
So, RG Group - with this daily early morning beep-bloody-reversing-beepof stuff being fork-lifted off of lorries under my bedroom window [reminiscent of Pall-Ex].
And bang-clatter-rattle-rattle of large equipment being deposited [in a very Heanor Haulage type of way] in a similar nearby position - you have now lost your previously 'infinitely superior gold star' standing and plummeted to 'noisy gits' status
Please rectify this thoughtlessness for my grumpydom ASAP or I'll probably have another little early morning 'moment', where I'll be found shouting loud but polite abuse through my bedroom window - note to self - must wear big pyjamas just in case ... Hmm, maybe not. If they wake me early again then they deserve to suffer ...
It's my blog, I'll use what title I like - then amuse myself when I check what search terms are used to arrive at this post ...
Well, I go to the foot of my sock!
You can't leave men alone with a nice bit of bare land for five minutes without them wanting to build things on it. This has completely spoilt my view of - um, er, the back end of Netto. When my neighbour gave me a progress report last week she told me that the Asda building was blocking our view of some trees [Cotmanhay Wood] in the distance, I was hoping to still be able to see them. I suggested that she ask the workmen nicely to shove the framework over to one side a bit. Failing that, nip up to the woods with Alan Titchmarsh and a big dollop of Growmore.
[I've just re-read that last sentence - I think my subconscious is getting carried away with the blog title]
We can still see where I used to live at Langley, I phoned my ex up the other week to tell him ... 'I can see your house from here', he replied 'What, from Skegness?'. Oh well ...
Also on arriving home I noticed another major development. On going to the outhouse to get my fish-tank cleaning equipment [bucket and jug], I realised that the grumpy old man had padlocked the door. 'Ooooooh' methinks 'what has he put in here that needs security?' I dashed back in to find the keys. After I'd unlocked the door I squeezed in to look enquiringly around to see what was so valuable that it required a padlock - nothing, it's still full of his bloody crap! He'd do a better job with a sign saying 'BURGLARS THIS WAY' and a big arrow pointing to it, then at least I could fill it up with a better class of crap, ie mine.
This is the same man that has taken to sleeping with his wallet under the pillow whilst at 'the manor'. Very wise of him you may think - yes, right up to the point when I tell you that there's nothing in the wallet except his bus-pass, crumbly discount cards, credit cards and his free Ladbrokes World Cup bets. I pointed out that there was a brand new, not inexpensive laptop sat in the other room, along with an ageing Windows mobile [6.1] phone and half-decent camera, did he think I should sleep with them under my pillow?
He's not actually kept any money in his wallet since he put his back out a few years ago and was told by the 'back-tweaker' that he was suffering from 'fat-wallet syndrome' ... Honestly, that's what he said and he definitely had a point as the GOM's wallet was at least an inch thick [too old to think in metric]. He kept it in the right hand back pocket of his jeans - so twisting his spine whilst sat down - where it developed a life of it's own. Ironing his jeans then was ... interesting, because this pocket [in every pair of jeans] retained the shape of the wallet along with the accompanying faded wear marks, nothing [except maybe a steamroller] would make the pocket go flat.
I've just lost the plot, on my third load of washing I thought that the door lock on the washing machine wasn't working properly. After several attempts at shutting the door and locking it - with various parts of my anatomy [knee is favourite] - and numerous twiddles of the dial, the GOM asked me if I was supposed to press any other button to start it off ... 'Oh, yeah, like which button?' I asked smugly ... 'That one' he replied, pointing to the start/pause button.
I immediately turned my back on the offending washing machine and pressed this button behind my back, hoping that he missed the sleight of hand [and body] trick. Upon the click of the lock and whoosh of water I announced ... 'Oh, it's ok now, fancy that'. Did I fool him? ... No, I could hear him laughing at me from where I went to hide my blushes in our jungle [must do some gardening, er, weeding]. I have had similar lapses of memory mid-cooking with the combination microwave jobby, where half way through repeatedly pressing the temperature button I started pressing the + button and then declared - somewhat annoyed - that the oven bit no longer worked. Tut, it can only get worse from here ...
There are certain people on Bridge Street who are moaning about us parking in the turny roundy bit at the top. Believe me it's no fun parking up there, it's absolutely filthy. And when it rains you need wellies just to get to and from the car. But this problem can soon be rectified by us parking outside their houses and letting them struggle for a parking space.
The turnaround was made big enough for us to park in because we had nowhere else to go once the top of the street was opened up for it. I do see their problem though, they were expecting to whizz around in one go - tut, shame - try doing a three point turn like everyone else.
I suggest that if they don't like it, go and see the site manager who said it was ok to park there as long as we left room for cars to turn around - and this we've done ...
We went for a walk around Langley Mill before breakfast the other morning - please be aware this is not normal behaviour for me, it is not in my character to perambulate under my own steam around such a grotty area [and no-one can deny that it's grotty]. Therefore we can conclude that I was on a mission of nosiness. The grumpy old man, of course, can be seen wandering around Langley Mill at any old time.
We went to find out - as befits my nosy status - exactly where the noisier noise was coming from on North Street, I'd already found what I thought were the correct plans for six houses to be built next to the car park and Tom Memorial Gardens on North Street, which incidentally still has active planning permission for a children's play area [until November], but nothing much seems to have happened in this direction which is a shame. I suppose these crucial plans for more housing next to this site is more important than something recreational [don't read my blog any more AVBC, you won't like it].
And judging by how many new houses have already been built on North/Ebenezer/Thompson Streets I'd have thought a play area would be a good idea to cover the whole of the area. But hey, our councillors have been told by powers on high that houses must be built anywhere they can be squeezed in and bugger the amenities that are needed to accompany them.
Where was I? North Street ... plans ... Ah, yes: Somehow the new building work didn't look positioned right from Bridge Street, so off I went armed with nosy equipment - camera [for more Heanor Haulage crap shots on the way round] and near photographic but highly selective memory, and of course my bodyguard ... aka the GOM.
I soon gathered when I got there that the new build was tagged onto Bourne Drive, I cut and paste that information and popped it into my documents ... sorry, I mean I remembered that detail and we carried on our way.
The GOM managed to find people to talk to, he knows just about everybody and you can see the panic in their eyes when they realise that the only way to escape being talked to is to throw themselves under a bus or climb over a 7ft spiked fence - depending on where they are at the time - before finally resigning themselves to their fate ... bless him.
And just when are they thinking of restoring footpath 53? North Street is a long way to go just to be nosy without it, we had to go along the main road where I called at the train station to take photos of a different view of the Asda site, then after North Street and over the bridge we went past HH where I deliberately trespassed on their newly purchased bit of Queen Street recreation ground - I am daring! Before continuing on down Queen Street and along Cromford Road.
I looked down at my feet on this last stretch while dawdling and waiting for the GOM to catch up with me [he'd found another victim] - or rather, at where my feet should be but haven't been seen by me from a standing position since I was thirteen. And was reminded of a little ditty I received in my mail - sent by one of my less technologically disadvantaged friends - called 'I Should Have looked After Me Tits'. There was one line about them 'no longer bouncing because the springs had gone', I noticed in a smug and conceited way that mine had got a fair wobble on.
Stupidly seeking assurance from the GOM, I turned and asked him if me boobs were still bouncing. Quick as a flash, and for once not using his deafness to get me to repeat the question - thereby giving him time to think if the correct answer - he replied 'No' ... 'What do you mean, no? That means the bloody springs have gone in 'em'.
'They're bouncing, they're bouncing!' he said. We giggled the rest of our way home like a couple of recycled teenagers about how he always tries to give me the answer he thinks I want, rather than the actual truth. I wouldn't swap him for anything, but he's not the one to ask - 'does my bum look big in this?' ...
The Asda building site - you probably assume I'm moaning about - not a bit of it, it's 'them noisy buggers t'over railway lines' on Bourne Drive [off North Street]. They're on their second phase of building and don't we all know about it. Even the grumpy old man is moaning about the noise and he's somewhat deaf.
Obviously it must be some cheap tin-pot construction company building over there ... rather than the infinitely superior - considerate to residents - RG Group who are building Asda ... hmm, don't get too comfy and complacent with this positively glowing reference, it is subject to change at any moment ...
Well if that's the best they can manage in Langley Mill with just a bit of a hole, then I hate to think what it'll be like when they do the roundabout for Asda. Everything came to a standstill today at about 6pm because the traffic lights were broken.
Traffic movement had already been slow most of the day with this bit of 'traffic management'. Backing all the way up to Heanor one way and Eastwood the other. Apparently traffic was being diverted [I did see the signs] through Langley Mill because of resurfacing work on Woodlinkin bypass.
Don't people in charge of highways ever communicate with each other? Surely they must have known there were going to be hold-ups in Langley Mill - seeing as Derbyshire County Council had approved the Asda TM [so it says in latest residents newsletter] - without diverting more traffic through our poor village/town.
Back to this evening ... The lights on Cromford Road stayed permanently on red, as did the ones from Heanor to Eastwood, the ones from Eastwood to Heanor remains a mystery to me as I wasn't nosy enough to venture that far but the good news is - the crossing lights not far away [usually disabled when traffic management is in force] were working perfectly ... and frequently, adding a little extra zing to the entertainment.
Needless to say there were some risks taken as people just couldn't sit waiting forever but there were the usual few twits who took the risk to extremes by hurtling along in the Eastwood direction at upwards of 50mph, it would only take a like minded person to do the same thing at the same time in the other direction for there to be an accident.
We did hear one screech but by then the journalist [yeah, right] in me had told the grumpy old man to get a move on - and we'd continued on our walk around the sights [sites?] of Langley Mill, taking in a close up view of the back of Netto and mere minutes later, another look at the scrap that makes up Heanor Haulage - so I could get to my beloved computer and keyboard.
Things seemed to be managing reasonably OK on that corner up to today without resorting to traffic lights, it was all coned off but maybe they had to give in because it was left turn only out of Cromford Road. The GOM witnessed two people in less than 2 minutes turning right, he was talking to the site manager at the time and he said that there'd be a smash at this rate.
Just to say that when I started writing this, er, newsflash? [drivel] it was still exactly the same down there. Everyone waiting on Cromford Road and mad dashes from either direction on Station Road [the time is at the bottom of this post].
We did see a policeman at one point, I'd have thought he'd have stayed somewhere on the bend near The Mill pub to try to direct traffic as everyone would be able to see him from there but he seemed to have disappeared.
As we continued on our way round we had a word with one of the Asda site men, he said he was waiting for an engineer to fix the lights. Common sense would have told anyone - well, any woman [and incidentally the GOM] - to move the cones further to one side as they weren't actually doing anything and to chuck the traffic lights into the river ...
I've reached the age now where I've got an opinion on just about everything and I don't mind sharing it. In fact everyone has the right to my opinion! I, ahem, look YEARS younger than my sister [I've just put this bit in for her benefit as she's bound to read it] who is 7 years younger than me - but I have been well preserved [alcohol] and I'm extremely idle. I've been known to make the odd card or two but recently got a tad bored with crafting. Considering how much this particular hobby has cost me so far I'd better get 'unbored' pretty damn quick! I have a penchant for using long words that just pop into my head, this is essential as I'm now losing small words at an exceedingly alarming rate ...
I realise that most of my readers fall into two categories ... they're either technologically challenged or of a crumbly age ... or indeed both.
Therefore I decided to be kind - because I can be - and create a little guide, which I can add to if I think of anything new or if someone questions something.
I also realise that none of my crumblier readers venture anywhere near this informative side bit of the page, thus making this guide a complete waste of my time. But I'm nothing if not dogged and I can always say ... 'well my Dummies Guide tells you how to do that!'
Hmm, maybe I should put it at the top instead of the side, we'll see.
1) If you see a photo you would like a closer view of then click on it, it will take you to another page with a bigger picture. If you click on the photo it will enlarge. I can remember one crumbly friend trying to squint at the 'Christmas Menu' because she didn't know this.
2) If you come across some different coloured - underlined - writing [usually a lurid green] and I'm referring to another bit of my blog, again click on the writing as it's a direct link to that post.
In fact, if your arrow turns into a hand, then it's a clickable link.
But you can check first at www.heavens-above.com for International Space Station, Iridium flares, radio satellites pass times (very, very busy up there) - On a clear night you should see something man made practically every hour. Using Stellarium you can find where the planets are (no or minimal twinkle) and stars, especially Sirius (twinkles all colours).