Petrol Station Progress

Asda's petrol station is well under way now - how do I know that? you may think, with me living the other side of Asda, miles away from the new petrol station.

Well, it's like this:

Last week [Tuesday 18th to be precise] the muck shifter lorries were here, this was a bit puzzling at first as they were empty and whizzing around Asda's back yard fairly frequently, so I thought - quite wrongly ... it does happen - that they'd come to remove Asda's muck from next to the railway lines that they'd dumped last year.

Then light began to dawn [after about 3 hours of this activity, I'm not always quick on the uptake]. They were just turning around in the yard to await their turn to be filled ... then, believe it or not this time the muck was taken away rather than being dumped.

Friday, we went to Asda and noticed that the roof of the old post office and bookies was sort of see through. I mentioned to the grumpy old man that maybe he could get a photo next time he came, which turned out to be too late, because there it was - gone.

And back to this week with a resounding THUD, s-h-a-k-e, drrrrr, grumble, squeak, clatter:

In the middle of my night ... it may have been 5.30am or it could have been 7.00ish, I'm not sure as my eyes were glued tightly shut [I didn't retire until 2.00am]. This thing turned up across the road on HH's bit. I did - quite wrongly again ... this is becoming an unfortunate habit - think it was Asda's delivery yard gates rattling and squeaking as they tend to do, especially at 1.00am Sunday nights, with 20 minutes of lorry reversing squawks ... because the delivery driver is a t**t. Followed by a security man standing at the gates, bellowing at the aforementioned driver [probably telling him he's a t**t], ensuring that I'd then be laid awake for the next two hours!

Ooooh, heck, I've lost me thread ... let's have a read at what I'm on about - dum de dum - Oh, yeah, got it ... This tanker thing turned up quite early this morning. It was unhitched from the bit that bought it and was then visited on a fairly regular and reminiscently noisy schedule by other bits of equipment.

I do hope Asda that you're going to send the window cleaner around again - where is he by the way? - because the amount of concrete/limecrete [whatever] dust your lot are kicking up is - cough, splutter - awful.

So there you have it.

I suppose now I've got to upload some boring photo's, I did venture out [as well as hanging through the bedroom window] with my camera, because I went to the recreation ground to get photos of the Waxwings that have taken up temporary residence there. I also took a few more shots of the rubbish that is being created by Asda shoppers [by the bridge, ugh!] and the wasteland that was created by Asda when they dumped their demolition waste by the railway.

And on a slightly more pleasant note, my GOM as been making enquiries - as is his wont - and he was told that Santander is going in Asda's unit 1, next to the post office ...

Update, 22nd February:

Work on the petrol station must be progressing well. Today the sand arrived to bury the underground tanks [I've been watching 'How it's made' and apparently it takes 3 months from start to finish].

Another Update, 19th March:

My GOM has been told that the petrol station should be open on 25th March. It will be open 24 hours, unattended, pay at the pump, no kiosk.

McDonalds In Langley Mill

Plans have just been submitted to AVBC for a fast food outlet at a former second hand car dealer site - 206 Station Road, Langley Mill. Although I say just, the application was registered on 24th January 2011, but dated 2010 - as can been seen by the application number [so must have been in the pipeline for a little while]. No, I'm not suggesting it was a BIG secret - seeing as it was already suspected by most people I know.

This proposal is for the land where CJ Car Sales was, on the new Asda roundabout. And no this isn't a rumour [this time], the application can be found at AVBC:

Planning Application AVA/2010/1227 - 206 Station Road Langley Mill Derbyshire NG16 4AE - a decision is expected on 21st March.

This should be an interesting addition to the already inadequate - and somewhat speedy [30mph ... my a**e] - Asda roundabout ...

Update 16th March: The application was withdrawn

Update 1st June: The application was resubmitted and subsequently refused planning permission

Pottery Lane And Another Moan About Slurry Corner

Notices went up Thursday morning from Derbyshire County Council to say an application had been received from Aldercar and Langley Mill Parish Council to turn Pottery Lane into a [proper] footpath. We've got until February 23rd to comment or object to it. I can't see that anyone will object, so this should mean it'll be getting tarted and lit up as promised by Asda.

The lady who put up the notices must have been aware of the state of the attractive 'slurry corner' at the top of Bridge Street [as she went that way], and will hopefully have told the council how disgusting it is. The only way she'll have failed to notice it was that the mud was frozen.

Later in the day I watched someone struggle through it with a wheelchair, I've seen other people actually carry their dogs so as not to get their feet mucky. Whoever designed the ramp didn't take into account that mud and water once in there, can't get out.

This mess will stay as it is or even get worse while ever Heanor Haulage continue to bring 5 flatbeds of railway tracks [mostly on concrete sleepers, so not exactly light] and other miscellaneous crap to store for a few days at a time, churning up their land and taking it over the footpath.

Yes, I know it's their land and the current restrictions on what they can do on it are practically zero [and to be honest they're not even annoying me], but something needs improving with their access, it's not exactly safe just opening 3 sets of gates [2 at the footpath] and hoping that no-one walks along the footpath at the same time as they want to cross it ...

UPDATE: Sunday 23rd January
11.20am: Asda sent two men to clear up slurry corner, WELL DONE ASDA ...

Asda Customer Services

Look, Asda in Langley Mill, it is time you got your prices sorted out once and for all. And your deplorable customer services want a good shaking up.

I was led to believe that in the shop environment the customer is always right, I don't mean you should take abuse or bad manners from anyone. But when someone returns with a till receipt that they've checked at home and found that they've been overcharged, at least have the good grace to believe them instead of making them feel like a time-wasting liar!

The latest discrepancy was on apples, my friend bought the ones on offer last week and ended up being overcharged by 74p. Yes, you may think it's a piddling amount but it all adds up. Just think about it, you go for a bag of apples, find that if you buy 2 bags [of certain apples] then you get them on offer. You probably wouldn't normally buy 2 bags of apples but the offer is too good to miss. Then you find later that you've paid full price for something you didn't really want or need and is even likely to get wasted.

And as the apples offer was no longer on and there were no records kept of old offers or prices [really!!??], my friend was made to feel stupid and at fault because she didn't check her receipt straight away. How many people stand there going through their receipt at the till?

The only person I know who can comfortably check their receipt and query it in situ is my grumpy old man, he did so with 2 pizzas and was refunded £1, but this meant a member of staff being called over, who then had to go back to the freezers and check the price of the pizzas then back to the checkout, then the woman on checkout had to faff about putting the £1 back on his debit card, taking 6 minutes overall. I couldn't do it, I'd blush horribly under the glares of the tutting, grumbling, moaning people in the queue behind me.

Come on Asda, you should be treating the people who pay your wages better than this ...

Chavsda

I think I'm being fair in saying that Langley Mill has long been regarded as a chav town, you only have to look at the recreation ground to see evidence of chavviness ... bottles, cans, rubbish strewn about.

Well I'm sad to say that our local Asda as been nicknamed Chavsda because of the local chav element hanging about at the Bridge Street entrance to the store. We live at the top of the street and can hear them shouting from here. Then there's the rubbish. To be fair Chavsda staff do clean it up and twice I've seen them picking litter amongst the greenery that has been planted on Bridge Street.

This morning, two of these litter pickers were busy doing their jobs when one of them looked up to 'slurry corner' and was heard to say 'That i'nt ours surely' whereupon they did an about turn back down to Asda.

They were probably right, it isn't actually Chavsda's bit, but it is mostly their rubbish that has been tossed there by youths and youthesses on their way to wherever they go upon getting bored with hanging about in the cold - it is then churned up by Heanor Haulage bringing in lots of flatbeds with railway tracks on concrete sleepers [I counted 5 arriving one day last week for storage then lost interest] - so cold that one particular chav was overheard to say that he needed a p**s then proudly announced that he'd had one up the back of the car he'd just passed.

I'm not ashamed to say that during the ten minutes or so of this activity, we didn't make any attempt to see what they were up to, we had enough trouble with louts when the bridge was here, they threw missiles [stones, eggs] at our windows and ourselves when we went out to investigate.

And on a different note ... I was on the street with my camera and tripod on the 8th of January, I had been taking photos of Jupiter and the moon and waiting for the International Space Station to pass over. A couple came up the street from Chavsda and he told her that there was someone with a camera. She was harping on about it all the rest of the way up the street and slurry corner about why I'd got a camera pointed at her and calling me a pervert. Unless she was standing on the moon [doubtful], my camera simply wasn't pointed at her.

Isn't it sad when I can't stand outside my own house pursuing one of my hobbies, it won't happen again, I daren't do it, I only go on the back yard now with my camera, I'll wait until we go to the caravan where all my neighbours are used to seeing me with my camera and telescope ...

Wot No 'Lectric?

We've just experienced our fourth power cut in two weeks. The last three being 3 hours on Friday, intermittently during last night and 3 hours again today.

This was starting to annoy my grumpy old man so he demanded that I find him the correct phone number for whoever was responsible for reducing our carbon footprint. This turned out to be Central Networks, who he duly phoned up and shouted at, not because he was being nasty, but because nearly all older people think this is the correct way to use a phone.

Anyway, grumpy being a bit deaf soon handed me the phone so the nice chap at the other end could explain what was what.

Of course I'd been ready to blame Asda for pinching our electricity seeing as we'd had no problems until they turned up, but it turned out to be Smiths Flour Mill that was causing the power cuts and Central Networks had to wait for a big fuse that kept tripping to finally blow [or summat, I was only half listening] to find out where the actual fault was.

I was assured that repairs were being carried out 'as we speak' [about 1.15pm] and we'd have our supply back on by 6.00pm [it was actually back for good by 3.30].  It's a good job it wasn't cold because without electric we've got no heating.

We endured another very brief game [thankfully] of I-spy to while away the time with no telly - we had to stop in [and behave, thanks for the alternative suggestions], as we were waiting for the window men to come to do a bit of window surgery] - we'd already I-spied most items in our front room during last Friday's power cut, made more interesting by playing in candle and torchlight [before nipping to Asda for a warm]. It took me ages to guess something beginning with T, it turned out to be the torch I was holding, ah well ...

A Crumbly Day Out And a Grumpy Old Man-nerism

We went out with another couple of grumpy crumblies into the deepest depths of Derbyshire yesterday. There was much swearing done by at least three of us, the fourth one was a little more restrained in her use of bad language ... being a lady. We had a fairly grumpy start to the day just getting out of our parking space at home. Some complete [here goes] t**t sped up the street, stopped in the middle of the road in front of us and then took 5 minutes to unload stuff before parking his car right next to where he'd stopped - moron.

There were many more occasions to vent our spleens during the day, to***rs pulling out of side roads in front of us. I swear our car - bright green that it is - must be wearing a cloak of invisibility at times. Two wa***rs in a Mercedes each, overtook us in a 40mph zone, the second - flat cap wearing - to**pot being quite scary. There was a car coming from the opposite direction and grumpy had just put his foot down as we were by now just entering a 50mph zone. He was so close when he passed us that he practically took a layer of paint off our car, then he cut straight back in front of us - sh**heap!

Er, where was I before my mini-rant? ... oh yes, our day out ...

Now don't misunderstand me, we may have been in Derbyshire but we weren't walking in 'them thar hills', apart from anything else - mud, excess of fresh air, being idle - I can't be doing with the walkers uniform of rucksack, big boots, clipboard, compass and map, socks over the trousers almost up to the armpits and in some extreme cases, silly hats.

No, we did the more sedate version of enjoying Derbyshire by first visiting Chatsworth Garden Centre - I have heard that there's a big house nearby but my grumpy old man manages to avoid visiting it [and paying] by telling me that it's shut and that he's already been and 'there were nowt worth looking at'.

We then went for a light lunch at Calver - and if you think that the older generation has even a fleeting impression of what consists of a light meal, forget it - it mostly involved huge quantities of fried stuff, just right for furring up the old arteries. This was followed by us waddling [very full] our way around Peak Village for a spot of shopping.

After we'd dropped our friends off we went to visit my sister and brother in law - yes, I am getting around to my grumpy old man's most recent misdemeanour, just bear with me a bit - we stayed there a while catching up with family stuff, then made our way home.

Later on, we were watching Shameless - after completely failing to work out whodunnit in Midsomer Murders, although I did guess the correct body count [I did much better the night before in Silent Witness, yes I know I'm rambling but who cares] - when grumpy, quite out of the blue announced that my sister's hair suited her fastened up, I agreed with him, saying how I keep telling her it looks like a thatch with all the straightening she does to it [we have curly hair that she won't admit to] when I suddenly realised what he'd said.

Anyway, if you've been paying attention or indeed been bored enough to have read some of my previous posts then you'll know by now that my GOM never looks at me ... 'What do you mean her hair suits her? You never say owt about my hair!'
'Your hair looks ok.'
'Oh yeah, so what have I done with my hair?' He looked over at me before smugly announcing that I'd done a plait thing.
'So Sherlock, when did I do this French plait?'
'This morning' ...

I had in fact done it only ten minutes before, because like most women I can't just sit and watch the telly, I have to be doing something with my hands [some people munch chocolates or chew their finger nails at this point]. I'd left my puzzle book upstairs, ditto my mobile phone, I couldn't be bothered to do any work and when I glanced over at my laptop, it glowered malevolently back at me with a 'don't you dare interfere with my buttons' kind of way, so I fiddled with my hair instead - as you do.

I made a brief attempt at getting all huffy about his latest faux pas but couldn't really be bothered. Today of course, he has given me a thorough inspection, spinning me around to check on hairstyle and colour of clothes awaiting testing later on.

Not on his nelly! I'll wait a few days before I test him again, it's much more fun ...

That's Asda Price!

I've already mentioned that Asda in Langley Mill can't get their computer and shelf prices to match, but I've had to write this [seeing as I find it so funny] because a friend of mine text me a few days ago to thank me for the warning to check her receipts.

She had been overcharged by £9.03 in one visit, £6.48 of that was for three 5p bags for life - making them £2.16 each.

The receipt was duly queried and a refund was made. Asda, in their generosity let my friends have the bags for life for free - gee whizz, it cost more than that in petrol to go back with the receipt.

I don't know how many of these bags they've sold for this price, but at this rate there must be more profit being made on these bags for life than supermarkets claim they're making whilst trying to make us green.

Hmm, I think I'll go and straighten my bags for life out a bit and put them on display instead of shoving them in a draw - seeing as they're so valuable ...

I Am Well ... Apparently

My grumpy old man was on the phone yesterday to his eldest daughter, she'd rung up to wish us 'a happy new year'. I admit to only half listening from the other room to the one-sided conversation as his phone calls tend to bore me being mostly of the 'what's the weather like there?' [half a mile away in some cases] variety.

However, my ears pricked up as I walked in and he was asking if everyone at the other end had escaped the dreaded flu that was doing the rounds ... 'Good, good', he continued ... 'yes we're both fine too.'

Oh, I obviously don't look as bad as I thought, I took a few paces back to the mirror to check on the vision of loveliness before me ... yes, just as I suspected, ultra-baggy eyes, a red nose Rudolph would be proud of. I checked my pockets - enough tissues [ok, loo-roll] to wallpaper the entire downstairs. I blew my nose ... lovely, then tested my cough - oooh, owww - my ribs ache from coughing [ok, I've been coughing for the last four weeks but it is much worse now].

'Ahem, I'm not well'. He carried on making small talk, probably about football. 'Oi, I said I'm not well.' This statement eventually filtered through to the GOM ...'Oh, you never said'.

I mean, EXCUSE ME, am I supposed to announce all my ailments? I know it's not really my style, I can't be doing with sick people, they should go away and keep quiet, only making a public appearance to announce that they're fine now thanks, and making no reference to whatever ailed them.

This attitude of mine [yes, I know I'm not nice ... but I am honest] is because I have no patience and minimal sympathy. My maternal grandmother used to tell me I'd got all the qualities to make a great nurse, she should know, she was horrible ... and a nurse. My paternal step-grandmother told me I'd make a terrible nurse, she should know, she was nice ... and a nurse. Yes, I was confused, but not confused enough to get a job where I had to have either patience or sympathy.

Equally, I don't expect too much sympathy in return, and so I forego the 'oooh I'm proper poorly, I am, please mop my fevered brow.' ... but come on, he didn't even notice?!!

'So, what did you think when I told you first thing yesterday morning that I was full of snot?'
His reply was ... well never mind what it was, but the implication was that I was short of something and it wasn't vitamin C. This resulted in me laughing my way out of bed and into the shower.

'And all the sneezing?'
'But you're always sneezing!'
'OK, I'll let you off with that one, what about my hardly there whispery voice?'
'Er, well, I thought you were a bit quiet.' ...
'I'VE HARDLY SLEPT FOR THE LAST TWO NIGHTS, YOU MORON!!!!'
'I didn't notice.'
'No you wouldn't, you were asleep! [cough, cough]'

You'd think I'd be used to him by now wouldn't you? I know for a fact that my GOM never looks at me [unless my cleavage is displayed]. I've put this to the test several times by standing behind him, quite late in the day so as to give him a fair chance and asking him what I'm wearing - stock answer: 'something blue' - as in denim ...