The Not So Secret Diary of a Grumpess

See Hear

2012-02-15T16:12:00.000Z

I was just finishing my usual morning routine - this is before I get up - of reading stuff on the Android jobby. I catch up with tweets on twitter, the latest info on Facebook - I still don't like the openness of Facebook, it gives me the jitters, however it can be a useful tool. Then I read the news for Derbys, Notts, Lincs before finally arriving at the 'most read' news items at Aunty Beeb.

By now, it's very nearly time to get up. The bikkie crumbs have been wafted onto the floor and the coffee has been slurped. Yawn, s-t-r-e-t-c-h ... What is that noise now? I leant out of bed as far as the cat allowed without glaring at me. Nope, I can't see owt.

Dedicated nosiness required that I get up, sigh. Thus, not only was treated to a slitty eyed glare, but there was a distinct movement of paw with claws - as I went past madam - in her futile attempt to keep me in bed.

One of these days we're having words about this morning moodiness and day long idleness. She got picked up and unceremoniously chucked out last week because she belted me around the chops - no claws - for daring to get close while she sunbathed snoozily on the windowsill.

Heck, I haven't a clue what I'm writing about ... it's gone, lemme see ... ooh arr, I remember:

The noise that was assailing my early morning - okay mid morning, have it your way - senses was a zuzzzzing sound, so either grinding or cutting, and was coming - presumably - from one of the Asda units.

I asked my grumpy old man if he could hear it ... 'No.' was the expected reply - I don't really know why I bothered asking him - 'Well, stand over here and open the window' ... he obeyed ... 'Nope, nothing'.

We exchanged further pleasantries along the lines of ... 'Yer deaf owd t**t.' and ... 'Less of the old' ... before I lost interest and started pairing socks up that had finished airing overnight. Grumpy was still standing by the window listening really, really hard. Then he crossed the bedroom, put his glasses on and went back to listening.

'I still can't hear anything.' he declared ... Hmmm, well maybe if he put his hearing aid in, he'd be able to see what I'm doing and pair his own socks up ...

A Langley Mill Eyesore

2012-02-12T11:40:00.056Z

Oops, I've just twittered about this - and been retweeted, thanks Sarah - and then realised that I'd not yet published my blog post on the subject, and ahem, this was written on January 9th. It didn't get published then because I wanted a photo of the eyesore. grumpy went and took one or two but the camera focused on a lamppost that was in the way. I then got sidetracked by other stuff - as you do - so now I've whizzed across Asda's car park and taken a few snaps myself.

We've just passed one of Langley Mill's most grotty eyesores, namely a car-wash. It sits on The Railway Tavern car park at 188 Station Road. It's ugly, shabby, and as far as I can tell ... illegal.

They did apply for - AVA/2009/0538 - and receive, a TEMPORARY 2 year consent for this pile of green, yellow and blue garbage - aka a portacabin and portaloo - to sit on the car-park, but the permission for it ran out in June 2011.

I quote: 'This permission is valid for a limited period only, expiring on 30 June 2011. On or before that date the use hereby approved will cease, the building(s) approved shall be removed from the site and the site shall be restored to its former condition, unless a further application has been submitted to and approved by the Local Planning Authority'.

I can't find any more applications regards this site, so why are they still making Langley Mill look even shabbier than it needs to be. I'm not saying they do a bad job, on the contrary, they probably do a very good job and they must work hard as they always seem to be busy. But the very nature of their temporary permission has created an unnecessary long term eyesore.

Rant over for the day ...

Bad Manners Maketh The Post Office

2012-02-03T15:47:00.003Z

A visit was made to our local post office the other morning, you know the one I mean - next door but two to Asda. The place was absolutely thronged with ... one customer, aka my grumpy old man.

He'd gone to renew his road tax. He shoved his envelope containing all the necessaries through to the nasty b***rd that works there, and he shoved it back saying 'you're not disabled are you?' ... This didn't bother grumpy in the least - he just took out the contents and passed them through individually. Because unlike the rest of us - with slightly thinner skins who'd rather go 2 miles out of our way for the services a post office has to offer - grumpy just ignores him, declaring that he's the same with everyone.

He went on stoically to exchange pleasantries while he was being served - as this is the kind of person he is - but clearly this type of behaviour is frowned upon in this particular establishment, Grumpy remarked that it was cold in there (zero heating for customers) and you couldn't hang around. Mr post office replied 'well we don't want you to hang around.'

Definitely time for this grumpy post office person to bog off into retirement so the place can get some custom back. Other post offices in the area are aware of this, ahem, gentleman's deplorable customer service methods, and are quite pleased that we all go further afield.

Langley mill post office was for sale last year, with the price being dropped at least twice. All seems to have gone quiet on that front which is a damn shame, because we could really do with someone who wants to do the job - maybe even with a smile ...

Update 9th February 2012:
The post office is still for sale ... now at a much reduced price of £175,000 ... will someone please buy it!

Cromford Road Car Park

2012-02-01T18:10:00.002Z

Before I get onto my next proper grumpy whinge, I just thought I'd mention that it looks like Cromford Road car park is for sale. Or something? ...

Amber Valley Borough Council - Green Belt Plunderers

2012-01-31T17:02:00.004Z

To continue with my 'lets have a go at the council' theme:

I mentioned in my last post about 'Aldercar and Langley Mill' and the border between the two - once upon a time, separate hamlet and village [in that order] - is now somewhat fuzzy. But now I have to say that by the time Amber Valley Borough Council have finished with their big push to build on green belt land - that all the greedy, grasping developers have been buying up in readiness - the borders between most of our villages will be non-existent and instead of being individual communities, we'll just be part of a large town that may as well be called 'RIPNOR' or 'HEAPLY'

There have been protests, meetings, facebook groups and petitions all against AVBC selling off land at Ripley to accommodate a new Morrisons supermarket plus housing etc. The council are elected representatives to do our bidding but it seems that they're hand in glove with developers all the way. They even held this part of the - often postponed - planning board meeting in private, where the public was asked to leave. We know who voted to pass the proposals, we'll remember their names when they want electing again.

AVBC's best friends - the philanthropic developers - tell us ... and we're meant to be grateful by the way:

"We'll build a nice supermarket for you, create jobs for you, and we'll provide you with some lovely little boxes for you to live in and then we'll landscape a 10" wide strip of land with - exciting new idea - some indigenous plants ... Instead of keeping all these fields of unsightly green and woody stuff that just sits there growing. And did you know that it's full of pesky vermin living in it?"

"What? no, you're wrong, it's a completely absurd idea that all this greenery is meant to be enjoyed by everyone, because it's ours, we've bought it now. It needs building on so that it doesn't keep sucking up all the excess water or continue making the air too oxygen rich, thus giving you daft ideas about saving the green belt or the planet [whichever soap-box you're all on this week]"

And back to me in the real world:
All the - up to now, relatively clear - boundaries between ... Aldercar/Woodlinkin, Aldercar/Heanor, Aldercar/Loscoe, Langley/Marlpool/Shipley, Heanor/Crosshill, Woodlinkin/Loscoe, Codnor/Waingroves, Waingroves/Ripley, Alfreton/Swanwick/Leabrooks/Riddings/Butterley, Marehay/Codnor/Ripley, Belper/Heage ... Will be as blurred as Langley mill/Aldercar - I've no doubt missed a few proposed builds and made some huge mistakes, please feel free to correct me and I'll amend accordingly.

All these unique places with their precious green bits and individual identities will be lost forever as they merge into one vast sprawl ... Sad isn't it?

But I can't help feeling that it's all a smokescreen ... throw all the suggested builds in the pot at roughly the same time - so that we're up in arms about it - then they'll come back with maybe just one or two ideas that we'll have to accept and make it look like they've listened to us - and we'll think we've won ... cunning.

Hmmm, Amber Valley Borough Council have the audacity to tell us that they've got to build houses on green belt land - and accept s106 bribes so that they can afford to tart up their preferred areas - because people want to live here as it's lovely and rural ... Hellooo, you're busy urbanising our rural bits, you morons.

Rant over ...

Aldercar And Langley Mill

2012-01-30T14:41:00.003Z

From the front cover of our magazine

Whilst I'm in a 'lets pick on our parish council' mood, I thought I'd get around to publishing this post that has just been hanging around waiting for a rainy day:

A while back Asda gave our council some money - £7,000 is the figure I've got, but could have been amended - which they duly spent on a mock 'canal lock-gate' and new 'Welcome' signs to our village. Only our alleged quality council ended up misspelling at least two of them. Langley Mill is not spelt ...
A L D E R C A R ...
As far as I'm aware - without counting minor roads etc - there are three main ways into [okay, out of] Langley Mill, and only one of them goes through Aldercar.

I have absolutely nothing against Aldercar, I have friends who live there. But when I arrive in Langley Mill, I like to know I'm here. I don't need a sign that says 'Welcome to Aldercar & Langley Mill'.

I'm sure that some of the - grumpier - Aldercar residents feel the same, they would prefer their own signs accordingly. I know that the border between the two places is somewhat fuzzy - seeing as every green space needs a house building on it - but we don't want lumping together, even if the parish council does.

To be continued - now that I've, ahem, got the bit between my teeth ...

Our Latest Parish Magazine

2012-01-23T15:09:00.011Z

Just lately I've received several visits from fellow grumpies - this is despite the fact that I hide behind a photo of a badger and no-one knows it's really me - these visits were regarding our local parish council.

Questions were raised about how our money was being spent or in some cases - as mentioned in previous posts - not spent. A bit of other interesting information was shared about a garden party paid for by council funds. But no-one knows any of the - seventy - 'worthies' invited. I can't even check on the veracity of this information as the parish council website is being reconstructed, so please, do feel free to ignore this bit.

During December [after my second grumpy visitor called for the first time] I 'Twittered' - as you do - asking myself 'Who are our local councillors and how to contact them if I wanted to?' ... This led one grumpy to think I'd blogged about it - before it disappeared - but it was just my twitter feed [on the informative side bit of my page] updating. I also asked myself 'Do I need to get involved here? Am I just a whinging moaner? Or do I indeed care enough to write about it?

Hmmm, actually I am just a whinging moaner and really couldn't be bothered with the whole idea of someone else giving me bullets to fire. But today my mind was changed - slightly - and I decided to have a go, because the 'Parish Magazine' - from our alleged quality council - has just plopped through our letterbox. This was not a conducive moment for it to arrive as I couldn't resist having a quick gleg at it, even though I was meant to be working.

Oh heck! It got me so annoyed in places that when I continued to finish today's work, there were tiny pink missiles flirting around the room, followed by much magnet and scissor action [collecting and adjusting]. I'd have been better off abandoning work for the day and getting to my keyboard.

Ahem, our naff Christmas lights were mentioned on page 4, under the title 'News From The Parish Council Office'. It went on to tell us who sponsored them ... have they received a refund yet? ... I can only deduce that our parish councillors do not live in our parish, because they're clearly not seeing what the rest of us are seeing.

Anyway, I need wonder no more about who our councillors are as they're listed on the back cover of this glossy magazine - the majority of which are no doubt destined for recycling bags [magazines not councillors, hmmm]. Ooooh, they've got vacancies for two more councillors. I've been informed that it is not advisable to join this exclusive club because if you don't fit in and conform then life is made uncomfortable until you resign.

Please note councillors when you read this, that I'm only relaying information given to me by other grumpies, and is therefore not necessarily my own opinion.

I've also been told - by yet even more grumpies - that a fellow grumpess has written to our local newspaper (Ripley and Heanor News) complaining about our Christmas lights, the letter was published but there has been no reply. There have been other letters written to our parish council asking pertinent questions, these have remained unanswered. So where can you get in touch with them?

Oh look, as well as ONE phone number, there's also ONE email address for our local parish council ... a shabby throw away yahoo.co.uk address ... very grown up and official I'm sure.

Oh I say, Gasp, splutter ... and just look who is responsible for our floral displays ... what floral displays???? They really are taking the wee wee - and yes, this is my own opinion ...

One Reason I'll Never Be Rich

2012-01-16T16:33:00.006Z

Our plumber rang last Tuesday ... 'I'm just calling for the part needed for your boiler and I'll be around in about ten minutes', he told the grumpy old man. We'd been serviced a few weeks before and a slight dribble was noticed - the boiler, not grumpy - hmmm - now we we're being fixed.

'I'll just go and fetch some cash from the machine at Asda' sez my old dribbler ... 'Oh, how much do you want?' ... I'd still got my birthday and Christmas money from the parents, not that I haven't bought something, but I used my debit card on t'interweb. I'm still hoping to get my computer fitted with a cash slot.

For a geriatric, my GOM can move at a fair lick. He raced across the dining room, scooped up my posh Radley winter bag and dug out my equally posh Radley winter purse in less time than it took for me to finish the above sentence.

He proffered me the said purse and I handed him the cash required - just like that, this is because I'm lovely and generous.

Wednesday morning we were going out with some more crumblies. Before we set off I ascertained that he'd now been and got some more cash if we needed it, because I wasn't getting any out of the machine at Peak Village as they charge for the privilege ... 'Yeah, I'm ok thanks.' He never offered me a penny ... tightwad!

Saturday night saw himself checking the Irish Lottery results. He's totted it up and talked in this weird foreign language about fours and fives and pennies, doubles, trebles, blah, blah, blah. It transpired that grumpy had won just over £100, 'very nice' I thought, rubbing my hands together.

He came back from the bookies yesterday ... again talking this strange language that we've all [my family] repeatedly asked him not to bother with, we only ever want to know the outcome.

He stood in the doorway watching me work ... 'I've got me winnings' he said, patting his pocket, 'If you want to borrow any money,' he winked, 'I've got some'.

'Borrow? ... Borrow?' The rest of my reply was mostly unrepeatable - all I can tell you is that the word I used most began with a W and ended with an anker ...

Windy Blow And A Damsel In Distress

2012-01-06T13:44:00.005Z

Well what a week that was!

I don't know about everyone else, but Wednesday night's bit of a draft and dribble of rain kept me awake most of the night. The top house lost a few ridge tiles, half of which were already missing after we had our last big blow ... some people don't bother with house repairs until it's going to be enough for an insurance claim, they only go as far as asking to borrow your ladder.

My neighbour's aerial escaped its moorings and we lost a slate. Grumpy is out on the front as I write - supposedly to assess the damage. This may take some time as he's chatting to all passers by ... whether they want to or not.

The 5th of January [yesterday] is the day I set aside for de-Christmasing the house. This is because:

I'm never quite sure when 12th night falls.
If I miss the odd items - yes I did, four decorative candles - they can be found and stashed away before 12th night is definitely, definitely up.

We don't want any bad luck this year. It's not like I'm superstitious or anything, but I don't do any washing on New Year's Day either.

Anyway, my near sleepless night went like this:
[twitter follower(s), please skip this bit, as you already know].

1.30am ... One soon to be ex-cat tearing around the house, demanding to be fed and her potty emptied, this would be more acceptable had I not done all this an hour earlier.

Roughly 3.00am ... The noise of several recycling boxes - thanks Amber Valley Borough Council for the crappy light weight, hold very little, flyaway plastic boxes - skittering down the street, stopping only briefly at obstacles - cars - got us both up. Grumpy went out and fetched our recycling back from the middle of the road. I opened the blind to watch the weather and we had a cuppa.

ZZZZzzzzzz.........zzz...............zz...............z ... we sort of dozed.

4.17am ... And I'm now wearing my very grumpy head ... An Asda lorry at their gate, waiting to be let in. The engine was running constantly. That stupid metal retaining wall they put in to hold back Pottery Lane reflects all the noise back to us.

4.59am ... They let the tw***ing lorry in, it took 23 minutes to unload then the next one arrived, at least it saved them opening the gates, closing the gates, opening the gates, closing the gates ... I should be grateful, but clearly I'm not.

7.35am ... Noisy arrival of the recycling lorry, they're up, everyone should be awake ... CRASH, clatter.

ZZZZzzzz.................zz.................z

8.30am ... Phone call - damsel in distress ... 'I didn't wake you, did I?' ... 'No' was my truthful answer. The damsel in question is grumpy's number 1 daughter, she'd got no lights and wanted grumpy to talk her through checking the problem. I left them to it and went downstairs in search of coffee ... hmm, that's where we keep it now is it? I put the kettle on - oooooh, it changes colour [blue to red] - and made something vaguely coffee coloured.

Back in the boudoir/electrical repair shop we drank our, ahem, coffee which had all the qualities of sludge ... a choccie bikkie helped it down and grumpy lied to me about how nice it was; and then informed me that the electrical problem was not solved, he'd go after breakfast.

This meant that poor little old me was left to struggle downstairs with ten emptyish boxes, de-Christmas the front room - kitchen already done, that only took 5 minutes - and haul the now full [ok, I only did two] boxes back up to await their final destination to the loft ... on my own.

This IS normal grumpy father practice - I mean, on the one hand ... it's the middle of the morning and a damsel in distress has no lights, and on the other hand ... a woman with no real sense and little spatial awareness is balancing precariously on a chair taking down Christmas decorations. Which would you choose?

Yes, you're correct, a grumpy father would choose his daughter every time. This is as it's meant to be and I'd be appalled if he'd made any other choice ... even though I am the one teetering with a duster - might as well give things a bit of a waft while I'm up here - and one foot prodding fresh air in search of something solid to stand on.

I must say at this point, if number 2 daughter had phoned her dad for assistance, he'd have been out of bed and up there like a shot ... this is not because she's favourite, but that she'd already have taken the fuses out [and probably the fuse box off the wall] and would be on the verge of poking something with a screwdriver. She is very much a 'do-it-herself' type [like me, funnily enough], the sort of person who'd buy something that was never meant to fit what she wanted it for ... but it was a bargain. She'd then make it fit with ... saw, hammer, screwdriver, cable, paint, you name it, she'd utilize it, and the end result is always a masterpiece. So therefore, if she asked for help, it would be - by now - urgent.

I'm reliably informed that this isn't only fathers and daughters, it's also fathers and sons. I have one friend who - happy to help out anyway - told me that if their son phoned for anything, the answer would almost always be 'yes'. The conversation could go something like this:

Son ... 'Dad, do you think you'd be able to ...?'
Mr Grumpy ... 'Yes.'
Son ... 'Thanks.'
Mrs Grumpy ... 'But that's when we're supposed to be ...'
Mr Grumpy ... 'It doesn't matter, we'll go on that once in a lifetime holiday next year, my son needs me ...'

Anyway, back to this morning in bed - drinking properly made coffee - my grumpy informed me that we - WE - had got a day off. I told him I'd got a BIG pile of ironing to do [more than eight items is a big pile in my book].

'Oh ... have you?' ... 'You're meant to offer to do it' ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 'I'll do it if you want me to' ... 'Go on then, but you'd better start now if you want to get finished before dark.' [I've witnessed him iron one shirt] ... 'Oh, hang on. I've got the roof to repair'.

Hence one grumpy old man on the street with his binoculars ...

Revenge Is A Sweet Tooth

2011-12-29T19:50:00.003Z

Or ... Santa Thinks I'm A Chocolate Munching Lush:

We had Christmas at home this year, just the three of us, my grumpy old man, pussy and me. We did our usual thing of opening one present an hour, this ensured I'd have the last one to open because I don't buy as much stuff for grumpy as he does for me ... this is only fair.

He did warn me beforehand that there were no expensive surprises wrapped up, but did I believe him? Hmm, yes ... but I half hoped that there'd be something sparkly tucked away somewhere. Don't you just hate being disappointed?

These three were hiding during the photo-shoot

By the sixth hour/present, I began to detect a theme going here ... yes, I'd told everyone that:

I didn't really need any presents [this does not include from my GOM]
If they must buy me anything, then - please - not bath stuff.
Ditto shower gels or body sprays - and we all know why.

Every single present I unwrapped - bar one - either involved alcohol [yum] or was covered in chocolate.

I have mentioned before how we do Christmas, and that grumpy doesn't actually want any Christmas presents, which up to now has always worked to my greedy advantage ... or so I thought.

You know, I've just been looking for the blog post that covers grumpy and his presents, when I came across another one that made me laugh out loud, I'd totally forgotten about it.

Then I came across this one. Hmm, having looked back ... I now realise that he's always bought me lots of chocolates and left the choice of something sparkly for me to buy [with my own loot]. So he is in fact probably a lot more cunning than I thought.

Anyway, for me, the best [non-alcoholic] present was from my pussy cat - a tin of cream crackers. This is because I don't have a sweet tooth - but I do know a man who has ...

Tia And Her Little Foibles

2011-12-22T18:31:00.003Z

Tia In Summer

It's well known among my friends that our cat is delicate, she is difficult to feed except when we're in the tin hut. This led us to believe that she was happy there and miserable at home. There is a tinge of truth in this, because although she stands her ground against other cats when we're away, she isn't so confident in her home territory.

We took her for her yearly overhaul at the vets in November, as the date got closer for her appointment I was filled with dread. She ate little and often brought it back up and I could see her getting thinner - this happens every late autumn/winter as she goes into near hibernation. Tuna fish to the rescue.

I could tell the vet wasn't happy when he started feeling her abdomen then decided to fetch the scales to weigh her, she had been weighed before so he knew she was generally a lightweight. I explained that she'd been sick a couple of times over the weekend and he agreed that this could be the problem. Everything else, except her weight was fine.

After this I decided to cruise t'Interweb to see if it'd be OK for her diet to be largely made up of tuna fish as she couldn't resist it ... oh heck! It isn't, apparently it's bad for them. I searched further and also discovered that ALL dried cat food, including the most expensive ones are a load of crap as they are mostly made up of vegetable protein - no good to cats at all - and not meat, therefore the missing important vitamins and stuff [taurine], they put in after.

Cats cannot ever be vegetarians, they would die. So why do we force feed them vegetable protein and carbohydrates. We only have dry cat food for our convenience and not for the health or well-being of the cat. Hmm, did you know that in the 1980's dry cat food was responsible for cats going blind and many also died from heart failure. Not to mention damage to their bladders and kidneys - even now - through lack of water/dehydration, because cats have a low thirst drive, in the wild they would naturally get their fluids from their prey/victims - yuck.

Though very interesting, this was not helping in my quest to get Tia back up to her summer weight. Hmm, raw meat ... there's places on t'Interweb I can buy it from especially for cats, but it's mostly rabbit - which when I've bought it tinned, she doesn't like, so is it worth trying? Chicken, she's not over-fussed, she does like beef ... expensive taste, my cat.

I also discovered that most tinned cat food is fairly rubbishy too as they contain meat derivatives ... translated, the sweepings off the floor, I have to look for actual meat in the ingredients, oh joy. I had a look on Asda's shelves ... interesting.

While I was doing all this research for my bulimic pussy cat, I thought I may as well go the whole hog and look at cat litter, just to see which is the best kind. Although she's not a house cat, such is her lack of territory confidence, that even on the occasions she does venture out - weather permitting - she comes back in to use her litter tray.

My preference has always been the wood pellet stuff, it always seems clean and rarely smells ... although that could be down to the frequency it gets changed, and every 'number two' is removed immediately, upon the cat's insistence. She runs around the house like a loony until the offending item is removed.

I had noticed that even after only two days of fresh cat litter, she'd be looking at her tray and cocking her nose up, even though I could smell nothing. Time for a change.

Hmm, clumping litter - although unsafe for kittens and positively deadly according to one person on the internet [all references point to the same person] - might be worth a try.

Off we went to Asda - yes it was the same visit where I spent an age reading cat food ingredients and slamming tins back on the shelf - where we rummaged among the choices of litter and came across Catsan clumping litter, but, ouch the price for the size of the bag ... until I lifted it. It was heavy for the size.

Oh heck, I've just drifted off into the blow by blow style of writing, haven't I?

We got home, disinfected the litter tray and put in half a ton of cat litter ... the moment of truth. Her pussyship inspected it, stirred it around, decided that it'd do and proceeded to use it. The look on her face when she turned around to bury the wee was priceless, it had vanished [to her].

Can you believe that watching a cat use her tray was more interesting than watching the telly? And we were fighting over who was going to scoop out the 'dumpling' of wee. There wasn't a trace of it left behind.

Then we became aware of something we hadn't expected. Tia was meowing for food, which is fairly normal, but she ate it - which isn't. She mostly sniffs it, licks off the jelly - at a push - and stalks off. But then she wanted more and she kept using the tray ... up to five times a day.

Our regime now, is that we remove all 'dumplings' and 'sausages' immediately - because we have no choice, her pussyship sees to that - then empty out the tray twice weekly and disinfect everything, because a big pussy wee tends to hit the bottom, although not enough to wet it or stick. We then put the litter back in because it's still relatively clean [madam is happy with it] and top up with fresh.

In my zest for trying to find something she may eat - and keep down - I had already spent a small fortune on micro-tins of the choicest cat food. After less than two weeks, she's back up to her summer weight, so I will now go and buy the more ordinary stuff and gradually wean her off [or certainly down] the budget busting variety of food she's become accustomed to.

No, I didn't suspect any connection between not eating/vomiting and - a cat's - litter preference. Although we have a very happy cat now, I think we've made a rod for MY own back. As not only am I annoyed out of bed to empty all offending items from the litter tray, she has now taken to rousing me from my slumbers to watch her in pooing action. I suppose it serves us right for praising her every time she used it during daylight hours.

Talk about potty training ...

Langley Mill's Christmas Lights 2011

2011-12-19T13:52:00.067Z

I received yet another google alert this morning about 'Asda' and 'Langley Mill', taking me straight to the Eastwood & Kimberley Advertiser [published this morning]. Telling me that - ooer - Asda has donated £2,000 toward the cost of Aldercar and Langley Mill Parish Council's 2011 Christmas lights.

I laid there in bed with the android jobby in my hand, sort of gobsmacked - grumpy was making my coffee - I roused myself out of my near catatonic state to text a few friends this news, and then I twittered - as you do.

I have checked - since I got up - what I put in a previous post, as I, ahem, vaguely recall mentioning something about apologising to Asda if they gave Langley Mill any money for lights. Phew, it's ok, I didn't commit myself, I only said I may apologise ... so that's not about to happen any time soon, now is it?

All that remains for me to do now, is to go out tonight to gaze in awe at these wonderful lights ... bought by our council with the money generously donated by Asda ...

Update 18.35 the same day:
O-k-a-a-a-a-y ... been through Langley Mill ... hmm, the same two - or maybe three - efforts on lampposts as last year and the year before. The same strings of lights around the churches ... and, have they nicked the Cromford Road lights to put around that industrial bit near St Andrews church, or are they The Acorn Centre's missing lights? Or The Jockey's?

I will of course write an update if more lights suddenly appear in Langley Mill - even at this late date. Apologise? - Moi? - Not on your nelly ...

Charity Shop and A Chippy?

2011-12-16T16:19:00.004Z

HH's glamorous fence and Asda's trolley under the bridge

Rumours first:

There's going to be a Dr Barnardo's in one of the Asda units.
There's going to be a chippy in the end unit ... Hmm?

I'm all for charity, but has anyone else in other towns or villages noticed that when a 'just out of town' retail outlet opens, the only shops left on the high street are charity shops, fast food restaurants/takeaways and bookies.

Facts:

Application AVA/2011/0605 - Potters Co-op conversion to 5 retail shops, 8 offices, 12 one and two bedroom apartments has been passed. The applicant was a Borough Councillor so you'd have thought planning permission would have been sought before work was started. Ooooh, I say ... Langley Mill is one of the most deprived areas in Amber Valley. And they think that by creating this retail and office space, employment will be improved in the 18-25 age group blah, blah, blah.
The application AVA/2005/1268 - for ~~depression boxes~~ a Residential development adjacent to 130 Station Road is still pending.
Mr Heanor Haulage was the only objector to Pottery Lane becoming a 'claimed route' and tarted up accordingly. This presumably, is because he has acquired land adjacent to it and has received planning permission for open storage ... I do believe he was ignored. And I really must search again for this permission, but I suppose it could have carried over from the previous owners - Network Rail.

Um, when I said I wasn't going to look at any planning applications until after Christmas, you do know that was obviously a huge fib ... I don't imagine anyone believed me anyway.

My grumpy old man witnessed two intellectually challenged tw**s taking an Asda trolley - empty - up the street, they struggled to take it up the bridge steps, then hoiked it up and threw it over the top and back on to the footpath. It's only a matter of time before these morons progress to throwing one onto the railway lines or trundles one down to chuck it on the bypass. I still have to ask ... who breeds them?

Grace Landscapes, who promised to put more plants in across the road from us in autumn have been nowhere to be seen - not even to blow back the bark. It is possible that their contract is now up, I'm not sure if it was for one year or two. Either way, across the road from us looks a tip, I think someone chavvy emptied a bag of rubbish on their way up the street. There are two more bags of rubbish atop HH's fence - very un-festive they look too, I think I'll go and wrap some tinsel around them and hang up some of my unused baubles.

Anyway, if things aren't tidied up soon, I may be forced to pop over to Asda and threaten to plant all my weeds across from us ... and at this moment, I have many, many deadish specimens. Mind you, I'd need to take a bin bag with me to clean up all the dog-crap first ...

Update - 17th December:
Alas, it doesn't look like Asda want my weeds. This afternoon someone came up with a big bin and cleared the mess up across from us ... but lo - the rubbish is still adorning HH's fence at slurry corner, I will go and bedeck them with tinsel as befits my grumpiness ...

Life In A Care Home

2011-12-10T17:41:00.005Z

We visited my mum this morning in her care home. Yes, it's a special occasion, it's her birthday. No, no-one there knew anything about it - even though flowers ordered by dad should have arrived - but should we expect them to know when it's someone's birthday? I mean they're only paid carers ... doing a job.

Mum has always been in her own - superheated - room whenever I've visited before, but this time she was downstairs in the day-room. My sister and I spent a while chatting with mum - OK, each other, mum doesn't talk, but listens - whilst most of the ~~prison inmates~~ residents were trundled into the dining room to await their dinner.

A few minutes went by and we couldn't help but notice a rather distressed lady sat across from us, she was crying and saying she didn't want to be left alone. Now I assumed - wrongly, obviously - that she was upset because when all the other inmates had gone, she'd been left completely on her own sat under a window, and she didn't cry until then.

My sister went in search of a carer while I went across to see if I could help the lady.

We were told there was nothing to be done, because apparently the lady in question cries every day until she's taken back to her room, as this is where she wanted to be - maybe she did, but none of these so called carers came to investigate in all the time we were there, not even to check she was OK or to speak to her. And who says that when she's in her own room she doesn't continue crying because she definitely told me she didn't want to be left on her own.

This went on for some time, in fact ... until we could bear it no longer and came away. The carers - and I use this term very, very loosely - may have been too busy to care for the old lady, you may think.

Yeah, I'm sure they were, there were at least five carers and one sister/nurse messing about and giggling at the other end of the room for half an hour. It may have been their break, but surely they stagger breaks, or is this too simple?

Either way, we were disgusted by the lack of care provided while we were there, and far worse, the loss of any and all rights, choice and dignity of the lady who was crying. Yes, I'm quite sure they know her needs better than we do, but would it have hurt for just one of these so called carers to come over and tell her she'd be okay and that they'd be along to see to her soon.

Considering the staggering amount of money it costs to have my mother cared for in this care home, I'd have thought the staff would be more ... well, caring.

No, I couldn't be a carer because I don't consider myself caring enough. And before this, I'd always admired anyone who could do it, but having witnessed this single episode I've had to re-evaluate my opinion of some of the people who supposedly do the job.

I'm well aware that these jobs aren't the highest paid in the land, but it is their chosen job to care. Lets face it though, these so called care homes are a business first, making oodles of money for someone.

Before we left we took mums birthday presents up to her room ... the stench of urine that my mum has to live with knocked us back at the door - this is normal [and getting worse] for her room - but I forgot to take a deep breath before entering. And I think we're meant to be grateful that they're attending to her bedsores.

What a truly sad way to live her final years. More frightening to me though, is the knowledge that she's only a year older than my grumpy old man ...

Cromford Road Model Shop

2011-12-07T13:33:00.011Z

Yes, I've been nosying at AVBC. The last time until after Christmas [I promise] because I'll be work, work, working - a good time to get your applications in if you don't want them spotting by a grumpy - and noticed an application to turn the old model shop at 21 Cromford Road into:

A Fresh Food Deli and Eaterie catering for Hot and Cold Food to take away and eat in. The property owners are to open it along similar lines to their previous business 'Fresh Basil' at Belper.

Which my Grumpy Old Man says is a coincidence - or is it? - as this shop used to be owned by Basil, who sold er ... deli stuff ... spooky.

I can't see a problem with this ... it'll fit in well with all the other 'eateries' in the area ... Oh dear Asda, it's a bit close isn't it?

Rumours Update:

A nearby ethnic 'eaterie' has been offered even more money by a developer.
The council's lease on Cromford Road car park is up and so now back in private ownership.
I've not bought any Christmas presents yet.

That last one isn't a rumour, it's a horrible fact ...

Update:
The application for a Fresh Food Deli was approved on 10th January 2012

Plans for Residential Development on Station Road.

2011-12-05T16:17:00.005Z

Having just had a cruise around AVBC, I noticed an old - AVA-2005-1268 - application, is on the planning board agenda for 12th December 2011, these also appear in the document 'Items Recommended For Approval'.

This is on the bit of wasteland next to the railway lines adjacent to 130 Station Road, Langley Mill. It's an outline plan for 92 [reduced from 113], two and three bedroom modest semi-detached and terraced homes with a density of 34.5 dwellings per hectare. Roughly translated as peasant shacks with little elbow room and a back yard barely big enough for a window-box.

I presume they're described as modest because of the proximity to the railway lines and the industrial estate it backs up to. There is also a flood risk on part of the site - this bit of land is to be turned over to wildlife ... hmm, I thought it was probably already inhabited by wildlife. There will also be some grassed areas for informal play. In all, the land is described as low quality.

Having browsed through a few pages of the documents - I've probably missed lots of pertinent facts, but reading any more would require dedicated nosiness - I noticed there were local council objections for several reasons, I'm not sure if all the objections raised in 2005 are still relevant today, with other developments having since been completed in Langley Mill.

But there is every likelihood that there may be more objections, because although these dwellings are to be accessed from Amber Drive, the main way to get there is via Station Road which is now - at times - thanks in part to some of these recent developments, chronically congested. The transport assessments were done in 2006 and 2007 ... and so, in my humble opinion, are worthless.

I've also read - in the same documents - that Langley Mill has some of the lowest incomes in Amber Valley ... really? I'd never have guessed. And shock, horror, I'm probably living in a non-decent dwelling myself, because apparently it's hard to heat and maintain. Yeah, yeah, I am interpreting what's written to suit myself, if you're actually interested in the real facts, try reading the documents yourself - yawn.

I do not await the outcome of these plans with bated breath. In all probability, they'll match the ugly, cheap peasant dwellings I can see just over t'railway lines, because these are the only boxes that a low income area attracts.

.....

Also on the same agenda is the Potters/Co-op building - 47 Cromford Road AVA-2011-0605 application - a proposed conversion to form 5 retail shops, 8 starter offices, 12 one and two bedroom apartments, etc. Which is just as well really ... they've been working on it so long now, it must be nearly finished ...

The Saga Of The New Bed

2011-12-03T18:30:00.005Z

I decided that we were in dire need of a new bed, I mean, what if I were maligning poor old Asda for keeping me awake when really it was the fault of a few springs and an aching back that were responsible for waking me up.

One was ordered from Argos just over a week ago. This was after we'd been for a look around and had a few bounces in other places. I always read customer feedback which all looked good, plus - and not to be sneezed at - our purchase had a - WOW half price - label on the Argos website. No, I do not fall for that crap, we've gone into the sales technique before, but this was the bed I fancied.

It came exactly when Argos said it would, with a text the day before and a phone call an hour before it was due to arrive, I can't fault Argos for their delivery. I can on the other hand be annoyed - at myself - because Argos more or less send offers daily by email - which I obviously delete before reading - and so paid the delivery charge ... which would have been free with the code I received about six times in one day. This won't happen again. Then to top it off the £10 voucher was introduced two days later - bugger!

Yesterday - the morning of delivery, it's action stations, hmm, four draws to remove, one containing half of my entire stock of lotions and potions, another is full of big pyjamas, only to be worn in the event of an ice-age, Oh chuff me, two carrier bags full of socks, we covered all this sockiness ages ago - note to self - do not buy any more socks.

Himself took out his draws and put them to one side, I don't need to know what lurks in their deepest depths, I've got enough on with my own rubbish.

The bedding was hurled downstairs in the usual fashion to be washed, I don't know what the urgency was, because I do have more bedding in exactly the same flavour waiting in the wings.

The mattress, hmm - now the old mattress topper had been removed [and thrown away] - there it skulked in all its glory. I told it that I'd no longer be sucking up any dead skin it was hoarding with the Dyson, and never again would it flatten me against the wall when I turned it. It just laid there looking ... saggy.

My grumpy old man returned from the bookies and the mattress was evicted, it got its own back on the way out with a jab under the chin and one more spring in the ribs.

The divan base was halved, we went downstairs with one half ... then back up ... down ... up ... down ... up ... down ... 'to you' ... 'turn it' ... 'no, back up' ... 'this way' ... 'Will you just take the bloody handrail off!!'

The big wooden handrail was taken off the wall ... where do you put a handrail? I had to back up the stairs with it, round the bend a bit and into the bathroom ... sigh.

Here goes again ... down ... waddle, waddle ... 'up a bit' ... 'twist it' ... down ... up ... 'Will you just take that bloody door off!!' ... Of course this is the only door in the entire house that doesn't just lift off, this one needed two screwdrivers and a hammer.

Down ... YES! ... And out, ditto the other half. At last.

Oh yuck, all that dust and a mountain of biscuit crumbs on his side. I got everywhere clean and then buffed up the brass headboard ready for the new arrival while grumpy made a sarnie.

There was a slight worry that we wouldn't get the new bed upstairs, there was only one more option left if they were bigger bases, and that would mean the removal of a cupboard over the bottom of the stairs - hmm.

It arrived, one half divan was measured, phew two whole inches shallower - the mattress was deeper. We got them upstairs, unpacked and got on with removing bits of cardboard with dodgy staples, then I cut off the extra fabric that were holding the draws shut.

We got to the castors, two were proving difficult to force in, so I suggested we put the base down and ever so gently sit on the corners until they plopped in ... mine went in with a thunk and grumpy told me to go and bounce on the corner he was struggling with. This I did ... and then realised he could have done it himself but was inferring that it needed more weight than he'd got to do it ... I hit him.

The mattress was fetched up and unpacked - carefully, he wanted to save the plastic sheeting, yet more crap to store. Of course, knowing full well the last bit you'd want would be the mattress, they thought this would be the best place to put the instructions, hmm, not to worry, we'd done everything correctly apart from hitting the castors with a wooden mallet.

It is done ... headboard fitted, new mattress protector on, sheets etc. It doesn't look as wide as the old one, it was measured, it was the same so this must be an illusion caused by the old mattress going splat when you laid on it. I asked him where he was sleeping as there was only room for me and the cat. He said there'd be room.

We were both yawning and doing exaggerated stretching ... 'early night?' ... 'Yeah' ... Much splashing in the bathroom ensued. We were both squeaky clean but alas no longer tired, telly was viewed.

At last, bedtime.

Books out, reading glasses on ... 'Are you comfy?' ... 'Yes, you?' ... 'Hmm' ... sleepy time ... Oh bo***ks, it's 12.35 and Asda have got a chiller/freezer lorry going full-brum with many changes of octaves and much reversing bleeps ... tw*t! ... 12.45 - peace ... 12.55 - it starts again, going through all the different notes until it's running full bore again. So no, it wasn't the ancient bed keeping me awake.

Around 4.00ish Grumpy gets up to go to the loo, I was woken by the bump. He'd launched himself off the edge of the bed but it was higher and bouncier than the old one. He ended up on his hands and knees on the floor, he couldn't get back up for laughing, by now we were both giggling like naughty teenagers.

A little later I turned over, of course being half asleep, I forgot what I was doing and went for it full force like I usually do when I'm fighting my way out of saggy springs. I shot up the bed and banged my head on the uncompromising headboard and cricked my neck.

Extra bed attire I think - knee pads for him and a hard hat for me. Or at the very least we must get a new headboard, I need a much softer option than brass ...

The Straw That Broke This Camels Back

2011-11-28T15:28:00.005Z

Fact

There is much activity in the unit next but one to Asda [next door to the post office].

And rumours:

Netto in Langley Mill only leased their store, Asda has since bought the lease to stop competitors buying it.
There is going to be a bookies in the old Co-op/Potters building.

.....

Sunday 20th November:

Fairly normal day, then decided to watch a bit of rubbish on the telly - you know the sort I mean - it doesn't tax your brain but neither is anyone trying to impress me with their singing, dancing, skating, quick wit or imposing cleavage [got one]. Ergo Jackie Chan and The Medallion or some-such nonsense.

As films go it was mediocre but as I said I wasn't watching it to work out who-dunnit, because as ever in these films, it's always the English man what dunnit and they show him to us at the start, looking ever so evil and speaking with your oh so average cut-glass accent.

Anyway to make a long story even longer - well you don't have to read this - the film was ruined by the hum coming from - as I thought - an Asda chiller lorry waiting to be let in through the effin squeaky gates. It was louder than the telly - but this went on and on [a bit like this blog post really] for over two hours.

I eventually decided to go and have a wallow in the bath with my latest soggy book, as I couldn't in all seriousness sit in the living room any longer. My grumpy old man, bless him, decided that he'd go over to see what was happening.

It was not an Asda chiller lorry ... He saw a 'Kev' the night manager, he was - like all Asda staff we've spoken to - nice and polite and very, very apologetic. They must go on a 'cringing, I'm not worthy' course before being set on there ... note to self - Do not apply for a job at Asda, you're far too bolshy and argumentative.

Righto, this here thing making all the noise was a freezer container - delivered warmish - and was busy cooling down for all the frozen stuff to go in out of the main freezer. It should be much improved later when it was at the right temperature - this turned out to be utter garbage as the 'improvement' was worse. He was going to phone the manager and tell her that we'd complained and he was very, very, sorry.

Monday 04.20:
Yawn ... mutter, grumble, whinge, bleep, bleep wan**rs! ... After a greatly disturbed night with the noise and vibration, I gave up and decided to be awake and extremely grumpy. This mood went on for a considerable amount of time. I knew I'd got to be calm and as pleasant as it was possible for me to be when I went across to see Ms Asda, so I stomped around and kicked a few things to get it out of my system.

Showered, breakfasted and dressed ... 'ommmmm, ommmmmm' - getting there. The phone rang, I answered ... 'tinkly music', pause ... 'Hello' not a British accent ...
'Very nice bit of music' I replied, dripping with sarcasm and venom ...
'My name's Daniel Smith and I want -' ...
'Is it bol***s! ... If your name is Daniel Smith, I'm Ali Mahatma Singe'.

And that was it, I was in a much better mood, I went to see Ms Asda. I passed grumpy on my way out and said 'I'm off' ... even though he saw and heard me, he didn't know where I'd gone, he searched the house before he cottoned on and followed ten minutes later.

I went in and asked for Ms Asda and gave my name. She was quite quick arriving, very pleasant and asked how I was ...
'Tired, I've been awake since 4.20 this morning and I don't need to be' ...

It seemed to come as a complete surprise that anything Asda-ish could possibly be at fault. They've never had noise complaints before [gasp, choke].
'Ah, well the problem is our main freezer looks like a grotto and so we needed the freezer container for the contents.' ...
There was more in a similar vein to what the 'Kev' told gumpy and it would be gone by Wednesday.

'Hmm I can live with that, as long as it's not going to be month after month or I will phone the council.' ...
'Oh no, there's no need for that, definitely Wednesday ... this week ... sometime.' ...

'And while I'm here and for at least the fifth time of asking, can you do something about the delivery yard gates?' ... Now this is where it pays to speak to the ACTUAL manager, rather than under-managers, night managers, men in finance, Scottish 'know it nots' or security men. It was seen to almost straight away, in fact a maintenance man was requested while I was still there.

I got out my list of other complaints - it was long and ranty and for my eyes only - 'Oh, and can you tell your night staff not to throw pallets about in readiness for a delivery ... midnight is usually the noisiest.' I did not admit that I'm usually still up for this delivery as I know it does wake other people up ... see, I can be thoughtful.

I also asked if it were at all possible to do something about the security light shining straight into our bedroom windows at the top end of the street ... this appeared to be unachievable, even though I have photographic evidence that the others must have been adjusted. I'm now wondering what reach a pocket sized catapult has got, maybe my grumpy will make me a folding, industrial sized one that I can attach to our front wall ... hmm, ammunition?

Anyway, all this complaining from moi has been a 'learning curve' - I do so like to be helpful - my telephone number was taken as a 'point of contact' ... yeah, I think it was chucked in the bin too, I will of course apologise on my blog if it hasn't. I will be phoned when the freezer container is going ... and, ahem, when we're likely to be disturbed again.

To be honest, the Asda manager couldn't really have been more helpful if she'd tried, but - as I write this - I'm very tired, stressed and in full grumpy whinging mode - as can also be seen from my 'tweets', where I'm once or twice, ahem, quite horrible ...

Monday was horrendous, ditto Tuesday, likewise Wednesday.

I 'twittered' all night Monday, just to myself as I have few followers. Tuesday I couldn't sit still, I was bouncing off the walls all day, but that night I eventually fell into an exhausted sleep. Wednesday I was up most of the night again 'twittering'.

Very early Thursday morning the container was moved by an Asda lorry front to the loading area to be emptied back into the main freezer. Then later another one moved it back so the driver could make his delivery. It's over ...

But it's not. I'm writing this bit the following Monday and I'm still vibrating where I touch the floor or seat - the computer is causing it now. I can't have a bath because I feel sea-sick when ours or next door's heating is on. I experienced the same thing last year just before HH was demolished, lovely. I remember it lasted quite a while. I have since done a little light research and it looks like I'm one of those prats who are affected by low frequency noise and vibration, just what I need.

And I'm still waiting for my phone call from Ms Asda, yeah you're right, she probably has got more important things to think about. So, until next time ...

My Belated Birthday

2011-11-24T15:43:00.001Z

Oops, I got sidetracked and forgot to publish this post ...

I decided to stay at the tin hut for my birthday this year, rather than coming home and going back to close down for the winter. We won't be doing it again.

I have mentioned in previous ramblings that I love fireworks and fancied seeing them at a different venue. This was not to happen - apart from me venturing out on to the veranda or looking through a window, as I totally forgot how traumatized our cat would be. I hold myself entirely to blame for this oversight ... poor pussy.

At home during the few weeks of lunacy, she sits at the top of the stairs, this is in the centre of the house and she obviously feels safe there. At the caravan she didn't know what to do with herself, it was like being in a war zone with the three houses behind us all having bonfires and fireworks over the weekend. As well as the constant bangs, spent rockets were clattering on the caravan roof. She eventually cowered, trembling under a nest of tables, all we could do was turn the telly up and try to placate her with soothing words ... and tuna fish.

Anyway, why do we have to have bangers going off week after week? What's wrong with doing it all on bonfire night? Pet owners can prepare for a one night event - yeah, yeah, when they don't forget what they're doing and take their cat away - but these days it's endless torture for both pets and wildlife. We never once saw our badgers during the run up to bonfire night, nor since ... although they did eat the nuts, probably in the quieter small hours.

Ranty bit over, on to my birthday:

As I said, I decided before we went to the tin hut - mid October, after Center Parcs - that we'd stay until early/mid November and close up the caravan - I absolutely hate doing that job but have no choice ... unless I want to freeze me bits off - and so, we would be away for my birthday. It didn't matter, it wasn't an important one and I told everyone - or thought I had - that I'd celebrate a week late.

We arrived home on the Wednesday after my birthday ... eventually, as the car decided to throw a few wobblies and has subsequently had surgery with more to follow soon ... getting expensive now, I have had to give it a verbal warning about its days being numbered if it doesn't pull its fan belt up.

Thursday morning:
Blah, the house is a tip, the contents of a caravan to store away, whinge, moan, gripe. Other things to do that were left half done as we never seem to be at home ... mutter, grumble. three inches of dust to rearrange, you'd think my neighbour would have dealt with that ... and she's not been around to water my house-plants since I've been back - I forget that this is now my job.

Obviously no-one will visit in the next two days, I've told all MY family and friends that I'm having my birthday a week late, on the 13th, so the clutter can stay ... well, cluttered for a bit while I decide where it'll go.

Wrong! Two phone calls later, it transpires that the GOM's family will be arriving after school - there's only me to blame. I mean, why should I have expected the same info to have filtered to his side of the family - when I'd told him to tell them - who were keen to give me cards and pressies ASAP.

Oh well, I've got a few hours to make the house look a little less like a charity shop reject skip. Important things - like work - can wait.

Just after a late lunch - we're fairly tidy, in a temporary fashion, but woe betide anyone who attempts to open any cupboard doors in the bedroom or bathroom - I was busy working and could hear grumpy rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. Hmm, I wonder?

'I'm just nipping over to Asda, I fancy a cold drink and we've got no lemonade or J2o's ... um, shall I get some cake while I'm there?' ...
'Yes please, fruit cake.' ... Now this is me being evil, I know full well that he's only going because his family are visiting for my birthday but as I've mentioned before, I like to watch him squirm.
'Er, no ... I thought, um ... chocolate cake??' ...
'No, too sickly, I want fruit cake.'...
'I'll get both' ... Hehehe.

He arrived back a little later, I can hear things being put away in the kitchen, then in he struts, handing me a box of 'Celebrations' ... 'I've bought you these for your birthday.' He lied. He must think I'm thick ...
'Ohh, ta, I'll just hide them before your lot come because I don't want to share 'em' ... hahaha. He squirmed and blustered - victory.

Yes, I am horrible, but I can read him like a book - hard back with few pages and lots of pictures [yeah, Beano annual] - bless him. He only had to tell me what he was really doing instead of trying subterfuge, he's not mentally adept enough for that because - well, he's only a man. Although, now I think about it ... he didn't get me any fruit cake ...

KFC - A Tiny Bit Halal

2011-11-15T15:11:00.010Z

To sign an e-petition to ban all religious animal slaughter in the UK - click HERE

.....

I've read a few articles on t'Interweb over the last year or so - in fact the majority of this post was written exactly two years ago, but had been left simmering in my drafts - about certain supermarkets and KFC selling halal meat. Even some schools and hospitals serve halal and worse - gasp - your pub grub has possibly been ritually slaughtered

I personally find this disturbing, because:

People don't know what they're eating.
It's cruel.
It's unnecessary.
It's done for religious reasons.

How is this happening in a supposed Christian country? Well, we let it happen. We're so wishy washy in our own beliefs, only worshipping the £££££££££££ 's that it was easy. Even Christmas ... one of our biggest days of the year has been reduced to nothing more than a massive spendathon.

Now, I admit, I'm not religious in the traditional sense, I follow my own crackpot beliefs. But on the other hand I don't mind what other people believe in, be it a God or a sugar puff fairy. What I do object to is cruelty to animals especially when it's because of a religion that's got nowt to do with us.

Do you know what halal meat is? Well, it's where the animal isn’t properly - if at all - stunned before having its throat cut to bleed to death, a verse/prayer - presumably from the koran - is said while the animal dies. I'm not ever so thrilled with any method of killing animals for our consumption but it's been proved that the animals, particularly the younger ones suffer for up to five minutes before they die by the halal method.

I assume that KFC's excuse - just like most of the big supermarkets ... oh, didn't you know that they sold halal meat in some of their stores without telling you? - is that they're 'responding to customer demand'. Aren't we customers too? Apparently, even though their every whim seems to have been catered for, Muslims have threatened to boycott KFC because their chicken isn't halal enough ... so, let 'em.

When did we - in this supposed enlightened age - start putting religion before cruelty to animals? I'm both shocked and dismayed by the barbaric attitude towards animals that we're allowing on religious beliefs, I bet the politically correct brigade would kick-up a fuss if it were Christians causing unnecessary suffering.

Apparently at the KFC's still running the halal trial, it's clearly marked on the door that their chicken is halal, oh yeah, and there's no bacon. But if you're not a Muslim, then you probably won't know what the sign means, and anyway who looks at anything - apart from opening times - written on the door? If you do notice it and ask for non-halal chicken you will be directed to another KFC within 7 miles, thereby giving the impression that you have a choice.

All this actually means is that the choice I'll be making is that I won't be going to any KFC ...

Asda's Christmas Lights Event Donation ... For Eastwood

2011-11-12T09:14:00.003Z

It's well known that I need a rocket up my a**e some mornings to get me out of bed, well this mornings rocket arrived by yet another google alert [Asda Langley Mill] on my android jobby. I actually used a bad swearword whilst emerging from under the duvet.

Asda in LANGLEY MILL have yet again donated £2,000 to Eastwood's Christmas light switch on event. Bearing in mind - as I've mentioned before - that Eastwood is not only a different town - with its own superior supermarket - but also in another county with a different council. Incidentally, I've got absolutely nothing against Eastwood, but I think the needs of Heanor and Langley Mill are greater, as their lights are - in mine and all my friends opinions - abysmal.

Is Langley Mill going to get any Christmas lights this year? We used to have them, I presume that it's up to the parish council, but Asda has such a large footprint in our small town/village that you'd think they'd at least make the offer.

If I find that they have indeed offered to buy us some lights or sponsor any sort of Christmas lights event in Langley Mill [amidst the everlasting roadworks], I will blog accordingly. I may even apologise ... but don't hold your breath, as anything good they may do now will be outweighed by how much they annoy me on a nightly basis - yeah, yeah, when I'm here and not tin hutting by the sea.

I have been made aware that Eastwood possibly asked Asda directly for a donation. So I may pop over later and tell 'em that I need some party stuff for my Christmas lights switch on.

Yes, I know that the donation/sponsorship is for the 'switch-on' event and not for the actual lights, but if Asda give me £2,000 I'll at least make a bit of Langley Mill - OK, just a small part of Bridge Street ... at the top end - look pretty.

Anyway, the upshot is - that my grumpy old man has decided that if our Christmas lights are going to be in Eastwood, then that's where we'll do our shopping.

Morrisons here we come - [and just for Bernard] 'Running Back To You' ...

Sneaking Extra People Into Center Parcs

2011-11-08T15:52:00.001Z

I have been a bit bemused lately by how many people have looked at my blog searching for 'how to sneak extra people into Center Parcs'.

Here's an interesting idea ... don't do it.

You knew Center Parcs was expensive before you booked your holiday, if your friends can't afford to go, I suggest they go elsewhere. You wouldn't try to smuggle any extra 'guests' onto an aeroplane for a villa holiday abroad.

Nor would anyone in their right mind try to sneak any extras into that compound just up the road from here - Butlitz, Ingoldmells - or would they? The mind boggles at what people expect to get for free these days.

Anyway, I object to the idea that valuable seating - insufficient at times - inside the free dome at Center Parcs may be taken up by non-payers when I'm there. I've got a biggish bum which needs accommodating comfortably when it's not displacing vast quantities of water on the rapids.

I work hard to pay for my holidays, as do most other people. When my work runs short and I can't afford Center Parcs extortionate prices, I don't go.

So pay your way ...

3,002,417,101

2011-11-07T13:39:00.003Z

Yes, that's my number ...

Every time I've looked at BBC's t'Interweb top ten read articles, this bit of news has been hovering around ... the 7 billionth baby was about to be born. Chuff me! The world population has more than doubled since I made an early appearance thanks to a jumping jack and a heavily pregnant woman ... er, jumping.

How did we become so many? Hmm, They'll tell us it's the developing worlds ... er, developing. But ignore them, it's mostly because they keep trying to make us live longer. They tell us what to eat, what not to drink, how much exercise to have, blah, blah, blah. And when we've complied with that, they moan that we're too numerous.

Some complete prats are now experimenting [possibly at my expense] on how to make us live longer - er, what for? So we can all be looked after in an old peoples home - not on your nelly, I'm not going into that sort of accommodation without recourse to lots of gadgets, broadband, and a means to complain about anything and everything to social services via the internet.

My, my, now I think about it logically, I'm almost looking forward to being a disgruntled old lady in a residential prison, how things will have changed by then. When I'm a crumbly [with all my marbles - hopefully]. We'll not be satisfied with being shoved in front of the telly for 12 hours a day, then eating, sleeping and pooping the rest of the time.

Not a bit of it, we'll expect to take technology and social networking with us, we'll be able to tell the world at large if anyone mistreats us, and if we're not heard from within a certain time-frame, alarm bells will ring ...

Leave My Clock Alone!!

2011-11-03T19:44:00.001Z

I do not expect anyone to agree with me on this subject, but this is my diary and I'll whinge if I want to ... and I want to ...

.....

Does anyone know the real reason why we still have British Summertime? No me neither, but it means I've got to get up an hour earlier than I want to or forever be branded 'idle'. And me, being such a sensitive soul, force myself out of bed by 9.30am whether I need to be up or not ... what do you mean 9.30am is late? I'd agree if it wasn't actually 8.30am - in the summer - in the winter I have no excuse.

And they've now they've got the cheek to decide that it'd be a good idea for us to get up two hours earlier in summer and one hour earlier in winter ... well it's not happening in our house! My bathroom already lives in permanent Greenwich Meantime as I refuse to alter at least one clock - it buggers up my bath time no end but I'm not about to give in.

Apparently, according to them in the know ... tourism will increase, fuel emissions would drop, lives would be saved and our carbon footprints will be smaller - how? it's colder on dark mornings than dark evenings, thus requiring more gas and electric just to get up and go. And do they not know that we don't all live in London, I really can't see Skeggy suddenly becoming thronged with more tourists just because it'll be lighter an hour later. Will we have siesta's in the afternoons with touristy shops closing and reopening in the evenings like they do in Spain.

And lets not forget that in the months of 'double summertime' there is likely to be even more loony antisocial behaviour as teenagers will be roaming the streets for an hour longer, with nothing to do except being a pain in the bum.

And anyway we all know the real reason for this idea is to bring us in line with Europe. Well I'm English first, British second and very, very grudgingly European third and I don't give a flying f**t what time it is in Europe! I've heard it argued that Scandinavia - dark in the winter - is in line with European time, well it would be as it's on a different longitude from us so is irrelevant as an argument.

I can vaguely remember the last experiment ... It didn't work then so what makes them think it'll work now. It was so dark in the morning when I went to school that a penny was thrust into my little grasping hand each November, December and January morning so I could catch the bus - yum, sweets - well I wasn't wasting it on bus fare was I. And I didn't have the type of mother who'd stand at the bus stop to make sure I caught the bus - yeah, that's a laugh, because I didn't even have the type of mother that got up with me to make sure I got to school after the age of six.

Warning! Yet more reminiscing moments ahead:

I remember one time - at the grand old age of eight - leaving my cereals because they tasted awful. I was duly informed when I got home from school that when I'd climbed up to the top cupboard to retrieve the sugar - red lidded jar - I'd fetched down the salt - blue lidded jar ... only it wasn't, she who must be obeyed had filled them up wrong. I've never put sugar [or salt] on cereals since then.

Getting up alone had its advantages though, many a time during those dark winter mornings I had tomato soup and a glass of milk for breakfast. I'd then tiptoe into my mum's bedroom holding her purse, claiming to need money for something or other - as in the bus - to receive a grunt, whilst a hand reached out for the purse to find me a penny. Oh, this was well before the days of spending money, this was in the days of 'cunning'.

Er, what am I writing about? Let me see, dum de dum ... Oh yes the clocks, how did I manage all that drivel when I'm meant to be having a whinge?

I'm amazed at how many people actually think we're going to gain any more daylight hours, there aren't any spare, they think the government give them to us ... der! I've heard people say 'Oh I love the long summer evenings, won't it be nice to have another hour.' Wake up dimwits! You're not actually getting another hour, they've pinched it from the morning for us to have in the evening.

Actually, I've even heard one or two crumblies wishing for an extra evening hour ... er, why? What have they done with all their other hours - hmm, afternoon boredom naps - that they need more daylight later?

It's been stated that we waste daylight hours in bed in the mornings, when we could be up and about our business ... why should I be up? For those that need to start work early to be in line with Europe - bright idea coming up - why don't they go to work earlier and then leave work earlier, instead of interfering with my clock? It's not rocket science. This would have the added bonus of relieving traffic congestion and saving lives. Ah yes, as I thought, it's got bog all to do with saving lives - although quite clearly southern lives are far important than we northerners - and everything to do with bloody Europe.

Fortunately or unfortunately - I'm not sure how this clock interference will affect me in the long term - I have the type of mentality that takes each season as it comes and enjoys it and its varying weather patterns and daylight hours ... instead of wishing my life away. I rarely, if ever, moan about the weather or the lack of long summer evenings when autumn and winter arrive ... has no-one else except me heard of cosy winter nights? Am I the only one who hated trudging to work in the dark but didn't mind walking back home in the dark?

Thinking of getting home and snuggling in for the evening used to get me home from work smiling [maybe I just have a good imagination]. Alas - as you can tell with this moan - what I don't have, is the capacity to cope with getting up on dark mornings, I absolutely loathe them, what is also painfully obvious [to me], is that I'm more like my mother - re-mornings - than I'd ever hoped to be ...

Our 2011 Center Parcs Holiday

2011-10-23T14:44:00.011+01:00

I'm not going to go through all the pros and cons of Center Parcs [Sherwood Forest] because I've already done it in a previous post. I wouldn't even have bothered writing this were it not for my grumpy old man's latest faux pas.

I will however, mention that this time we stayed [eight of us] in an executive lodge rather than one of those cheaper peasant sheds [I really must stop calling them that, it's rubbing off]. We had four en-suite bedrooms, two with big rainforest showers and two with posh baths that lit up and blew bubbles up your bum.

All of the bedrooms had LCD TV's, as did the games room and lounge area. Two of the bedrooms had balconies with tables and chairs, plus - in my case - damp towels and my camera tripod. We also had our own sauna - phew, was it hot in there!

Again we had maid service, which we didn't avail ourselves of - apart from towel changes - this is because we decided that we were far too untidy to let the maid in. It'd be no good any of my family getting rich and having staff to 'do' for them because they wouldn't know how not to tidy up first. I would, however - being a bit [ok, a lot] more domestically challenged than the rest of my family - be prepared to get used to having cleaning staff if I come in to money.

Anyway, on to the reason for me writing this short ... er, biography. You know, it always starts off as one paragraph or at the most two ... then I get carried away:

Ahem, my GOM's latest 'foot in mouth' came when we were in the swimwear shop next to the dome, I'd been in the day before - after a few splashes around the rapids - and spotted a tankini I liked but wasn't carrying any money. This time I was going to try and hopefully buy - to add it to my collection of [six] others.

The only one in my size was gone, boo hoo. I turned to grumpy and said ... 'Somewhere in there [pointing to the dome and waggling my finger], there's a fat woman walking around in my tankini!'

Reply ... 'yes there is' ...

My Lips Are Sealed

2011-10-20T16:36:00.004+01:00

Well, very nearly sealed.

It has come to my attention that a large piece of junk - namely a long tube thing with windows, doors and big wheels, but doesn't run on the road - has been moved from a certain spot nearby to another spot ... er, nearby. Lovely

Apparently it may be there for some time as the means of shifting it are - at the moment - somewhat, ahem, none existent.

Seeing as enquiries have been made about missing bits and the uniformed enquirers have been made aware of my blog. I thought it'd be best if I said nowt ... hmm.

I do hope that no-one is in any way trying to blame me for having mentioned - in passing - this place with lots of metallic stuff hanging about. Because it's not my fault if some tight-wad won't pay for security, and is then somewhat surprised when some naughty people have popped in and helped themselves ...

How Very Dare They!

2011-10-12T12:01:00.014+01:00

My signed copy of Sir Terry Pratchett's Snuff

I was all excited this morning waiting for the post as I'd received an email last night telling me that my signed copy of 'Snuff' was on its way.

I'd just finished munching on my cereals and was drinking my cuppa while catching up with local news on my shiny newest toy [an android jobby], when I heard a knock then a voice asking ... 'are they in next door?'

I dashed off up the entry shouting ... 'yes they're in next door!' I signed for my 'Snuff' - it's my birthday present to me - while the post woman sorted out the rest of our mail.

There it was, for all the world and her neighbour to see - well me and the post woman actually. But if I was at all sensitive instead of armour-plated by my grumpyness, I'd have been mortified.

A bill? you may think, hmm, well there was one letter asking me for money ... fat chance.

No, it was a big letter from that effin shop I keep moaning about, wanting me to take out OVER 50's life cover. Bog off Asda, it's never going to happen!

Now, if it had been a nice, pretty envelope - keep the green, it's my favourite colour - with the suggested 'special birthday offer inside'. I'd have just thought ... 'Who the hell told 'em it's nearly my birthday?'

But no, there's an ignorant statement right at the top of the envelope, suggesting that I am over 50 - in writing big enough for me to see without my glasses, even with my presbyopic eyesight - and therefore am desperate for life cover because I'm so old that no insurance company will touch me with a bargepole.

And so what if I am hovering around the 50 mark, I've been told by someone tactful - yes, they are well trained - that I don't look it, but now the whole of Royal Mail knows I'm chuffin old as well as grumpy!!

Here's news for you Asda - I don't want life insurance, I'm officially a grumpy ~~old woman~~ lady, who enjoys scaring the pants off her family by telling each of them - individually - that I'm going to their sole responsibility and that I like OAK! ...

Langley Mill Roadworks Autumn 2011

2011-10-10T17:45:00.004+01:00

I've just had a google alert ... you know the sort - where 'Langley Mill' and 'Asda' are mentioned in the same sentence ... mostly with a direct link towards some mad drivel [ie written by me].

But this time it was about the final phase of the gas mains revamp that affects Station Road and Cromford Road, so thought I'd provide a link to the website with the information - I get nicer every day.

Info about using links - in case you're technologically challenged - is on the interesting, informative side bit of my blog ...

Knitting, Working And Daddy-Long-Leg Sandwiches

2011-10-09T16:54:00.004+01:00

I have rekindled my relationship with an old hobby, namely knitting. Now this does not mean I churn out fifty odd chunky knit cardi's on a weekly basis - like some people I know - no, all it means it that I knit the same scarf at least eight [and rising] times.

Why? You may well ask, well:

It's enormous fun.
I get so far and realise it won't be long enough so cast on fewer stitches.
I've found a way to make the expensive stuff eke out ... because - answers on a post it please - either ... a) I'm a genius or b) I grudgingly took a friend's advice.

I'm not completely alone in this loony knit-fest, my next door but one caravan neighbour is far worse with these scarves and she's a proper knitter!

It was while knitting my first scarf for the - probable - sixth time that I became aware that I was knitting a few daddy-long-legs into it ... this was not mentioned in the knitting pattern! So I removed them ... er, oops ... their legs.

I had never in my life seen so many daddy-long-legs - this was at Skeggy, I've seen none since we got home - it became impossible to take a deep breath for fear of sucking one in. I heard my GOM coughing and clearing his throat a few times and can only assume that he'd forgotten to breathe through his nose.

I was working one morning, peering through my magnifying light - as you do - when I briefly looked away. When I looked back at the teeny weeny thing I'd picked up, I nearly knocked the lamp over, tipped the table up and chucked the lot on the floor [all in one movement]. Not only was my spira-doo-dah there to be inspected, I was also clutching - between left thumb and forefinger - a chuffin ENORMOUS daddy-long-legs! I'm not afraid of them, nor spiders, but unexpectedly close up, lit up and magnified is not nice.

A couple of days later while all packed up ready for home and waiting for the cat, my grumpy old man decided to make a sandwich. This was to either eat there if pussykins didn't turn up at a reasonable time, or take with us for a snack on the way home. The little bugger - cat, not grumpy - has a habit of turning up at just the wrong time so we're starving by the time we get home.

Anyway, time was moving on, the cat watched us playing bowls behind the tin hut - at a safe you-can't-reach-me-from-there-ner-ner-ne-ner-ner distance - when we decided to go in and eat.

Mmmmm, ham and daddy-long-leg sandwiches ... well I found one leg in the mayonnaise - between the ham and the lettuce. And the rest of it - well it's too late now ...

McDonalds Not In Langley Mill ... Again

2011-10-06T14:39:00.000+01:00

I have updated in a previous post that the application to build a McDonalds on CJ Cars was refused planning permission because highways said it wasn't safe - or words to that effect. I did mention this very fact a while back and it would have saved them a lot of manpower and money if they'd only take notice of me.

I updated an old post rather than write a separate one because I found the information by reading another blog - as it wasn't mentioned at AVBC - so wasn't really my information to share.

However, I notice by search terms being used and the subsequent pages being read, that people are still arriving at my oldest post referring to McDonalds and going no further, therefore missing the latest updates - a woman can get fed-up of linking several posts - so I decided to give in and write this and provide a link to where I originally got my info from.

Now go and look there ...

Ignorance Is Bliss

2011-10-04T16:31:00.003+01:00

We'd been back from the tin hut by the sea for a few days but had relatively little to moan about - apart from the usual Asda wa**ers keeping me awake in the night, and yes Bernard I finally gave in and tried earplugs but I couldn't hear anything, so had to get rid of them - the main reason for the lack of grumpiness is that I've had lots of work to do in rather a hurry, and so was cocooned in my own little bubble, totally cut off from the outside ... during this glorious weather [so I heard] boo hoo, sob.

Of course I emerged from behind my magnifying lamp eventually [Saturday] and truly wished I hadn't, it was much nicer being oblivious to Langley Mill's youff-dom.

First of all we'd returned from a family visit and we were reading a notice - about footpaths 53 and Pottery Lane - that had been attached to Mr HH's fence, but some cretin decided it needed pulling off. I waited while my grumpy old man attempted to reattach it.

During this I heard one of those mini-motorbike whatstits whizzing along Pottery Lane, and then I watched in amazement as this head went backwards and forwards - at speed - down the ramp onto Bridge Street, finally revealing itself as the tw*t on the bike. Me being me and not at all being able to keep my mouth shut, I shouted ... 'this is a footpath, not a motorbike route'.

This surly teenager totally ignored my remonstration and stopped just short of running into me. I then said ... 'I suppose you expect me to move for you' ... reply 'grunt' ... 'well, I'm not'. He had actually got a voice other than the customary teenage grunt, as he said he'd go in front of me... which he did, almost running my GOM over - while he was still farting about with that bloody notice. The youff then carried on a third of the way down Bridge Street and up an entry ... I've no idea who he is.

Having now been let loose from my workspace I decided to reacquaint myself with 'bigjobs' my super computer, this meant being in the spare room for an hour or two, tut, what a mistake. If I were anywhere else I wouldn't be able to witness more twa**ing youffs trying to break things on HH land. I may start locking myself away in a cupboard somewhere.

Much later, after examining the contents - or lack of - in my fridge, freezer and cupboards, I announced to grumpy that I was off to - begrudgingly - spend some money at that biggish corner shop just over the way. He came with me to carry my debit card.

Just before we got to our peasants ramp up to Asda we passed four girls, all about twelve or thirteen years old, pleasant and giggly, but I could have knocked their heads together ... or glared at my GOM for doing it [we've all inherited this 'glare' from my mother - it's horrible].

It ... being walk on the road to go around them as they steadfastly stuck to walking four abreast ... not me, oh no, I've finally realised who the tw*ts are, and it's us for moving out of their way, time and time again, this time I was prepared to clash elbows and anything else that got in my way as I walked along the edge of the kerb [yes I know, I'm still making way for them].

This is NOT purely a Langley Mill phenomenon as it is much discussed amongst us - tin hut dwellers - at Winthorpe [Skeggy]. We have compared notes on numerous occasions about how we automatically shift out of the way.

I was brought up to ALWAYS move for anyone older than myself - which at my age is getting increasingly more difficult - this included giving up my seat on a bus as well as moving to one side while walking along a street. To be honest I've probably forgotten how old I am when I get out of the way, but not any more!

In future, if anyone younger than me expects me to move to one side for them, they're in for a shock, cos I'm not moving - hmm, this is all supposing I remember [being my age means I'm forgetful - apparently]. In fact, just to make sure I get in someone's way, I'm off out right now to stand in the middle of a pavement somewhere ...

Letter To Mr Cameron

2011-10-01T14:29:00.001+01:00

I received this email recently and found myself nodding and agreeing to just about everything, so I thought I'd share it with those who haven't received it yet:

Dear Mr Cameron,
Please find below our suggestion for fixing the UK's economy.

Instead of giving billions of pounds to banks that will squander the money on lavish parties and unearned bonuses, use the following plan:

You can call it the 'Patriotic Retirement Plan'.

There are about 10 million people over the age of fifty in the workforce.
Pay them £1 million each [yes please] severance for early retirement with the following stipulations:

They MUST retire ... 10 million job openings - unemployment fixed
They MUST buy a British car ... 10 million car orders - car industry fixed.
They MUST either buy a house or pay off their mortgage - housing crisis fixed.
They MUST send their kids to school/college/university - crime rate fixed.
They MUST buy £100 worth of alcohol/tobacco a week [hmm?] ... And there's your money back in duty/tax etc.

It can't be any easier than that! If more money is needed, have all members of parliament pay back their falsely claimed expenses and second home allowances.

Also:

Let's put the pensioners in jail and the criminals in a nursing home.
This way the pensioners would have access to showers, hobbies and walks.
They'd get free dental treatment and eye care.
They'd receive money instead of paying it out.
They'd receive special diets on religious grounds.
They would have constant video monitoring, so they could be helped instantly, if they fell or needed assistance.
Bedding would be washed twice a week and all clothing would be washed, ironed and returned to them.

A guard would check on them every 20 minutes and bring their meals and snacks to their cell.
They would have family visits in a suite built for that purpose.
They would have access to a library, weight room, spiritual counselling, pool and education.
Simple clothing, shoes, slippers, PJ's and legal aid would be free, on request.
Private, secure rooms for all, with an exercise outdoor yard, with gardens.
Each senior could have a PC, a TV, radio and daily phone calls.

There would be a board of directors to hear complaints, and the guards would have a code of conduct that would be strictly adhered to.

The criminals would get cold food, be left all alone and unsupervised. Laid wet and sore in a stinking bed. Lights off at 8pm, and showers once a week. Live in a tiny room and pay £600.00 per week and have no hope of ever getting out.

Think about this (more points of contention):

COWS:

Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic, our government could track a single cow, born in Appleby almost three years before, right to the stall where she slept in the county of Cumbria?

And, they even tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 125,000 illegal immigrants wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow.
It is time for us grumpy old folk of Britain to speak up! ...

What's Happening At The End Of Cromford Road?

2011-09-12T15:03:00.004+01:00

Hmm, because there seems to be a large amount of inactivity - as in empty or closed - at the bottom end of Cromford Road, we're now wondering if a recent rumour that I mentioned at the beginning of my moany 'lack of flowers' blog - businesses at the end of Cromford Road being offered large wads of cash - is in fact true.

If there is a hint of truth in the rumours then we're puzzled about who wants to buy land and businesses there, and what they want them for [Godwins next attempt at McDonalds in case their current plans are thwarted, perhaps].

I can see many days ahead - when sufficiently bored enough, I'm not that nosy ... no, really - of t'Interweb cruising to see what I can find out ... failing that we'll interrogate some likely candidates.

There's still no sign at AVBC that the plans are being passed for McDonalds on CJ Cars plot, I'm NOT ever so convinced these plans will be passed as - in my humble opinion - that stretch of road isn't safe as it is now, even without a McDonalds there, because the roundabout is too small and drivers from both Asda and Eastwood actually treat Station Road with an 'I've got right of way' mentality and are totally oblivious to Cromford Road.

And anyway, I have already suggested [ok, rumoured] that Netto would be a much better place for McDonalds - as Asda aren't likely to keep Langley Mill's Netto, which is almost closed - but no-one takes any notice of me.

You'll have to excuse the shortness of this post, but my friends are waiting for me to go out and play [bowls] ... and I still refuse to wear the uniform ...

Asda in Hucknall?

2011-08-30T18:17:00.001+01:00

Well, it's only taken just over two years since I first suggested that Asda probably plan to build at Hucknall.

Oh dear Asda, have I spoilt your surprise? Well, GOOD. I plan to annoy you as much as your Langley Mill store annoy me - with their effin squeaky gates and the wa**ers they employ in the night to throw pallets about. They've only been asked four times - by us - to get the bolts oiled.

And Johnston Press - go and find your own news and stop reading my blog.

Er, where was I before I got carried away? Oh yeah, Hucknall:

Now someone has started searching for info on Asda in Hucknall and tripped over my blog.

Actually I thought that everyone in Hucknall would know all this by now as I told my sister ages ago - she works in a bank there - and she doesn't do secrets.

It must have been in the pipeline for a while, because it accidentally got included on a map of nearby Asda's when Langley Mill's Asda bumf was dished out.

I've heard [from the same sister] that it's to be on Hucknall football ground - as they're getting a new stadium - but this is just a rumour.

And anyway, it's not really Asda's style. They tend to pick some really grotty brownfield site so they can tell everyone how they'll 'kick-start the regeneration' of wherever it is, blah, blah, blah, so there's very little objection to the planning application, except from the competition ...

R.I.P. Broken Britain...

2011-08-11T10:10:00.006+01:00

You went soft on discipline!...

You went soft on immigration!...

You went soft on crime...

Parents were told - 'No you can't smack the kids'...

Teachers were prevented from chastising kids in schools...

The police couldn't clip a troublemaker round the ear...

Kids had rights blah blah blah...

Well done Britain...

You shall reap what you sow...

We have lost a whole generation!!

Not my own words, but definitely my sentiments - and it saved me writing it myself - this is doing the rounds on Facebook and I copied and pasted as requested - kudos to the originator/author for saying what we all think.

The only thing is ... I actually think we've lost two generations because the parents of the yobs are no better ...

Langley Mill's Flowers 2011

2011-08-01T16:22:00.006+01:00

Before I get carried away with my latest moan I'll just share the latest rumours that a fellow grumpy has passed on:

Apparently some of the businesses at the end of Cromford Road, including an Indian restaurant, a repair/workshop garage and the car park where our council recycling bins disappeared from, have been offered lots of money by a developer, I'm told that these offers were turned down and there have now been larger offers made.

Why doesn't a developer want to offer us even moderate amounts of money? It doesn't seem fair when we're so willing to negotiate.

.....

Anyway on to my latest whinge, 90% of which has been waiting to be published for about three weeks, but having been in a better mood lately [away at the tin hut] and thinking 'hey, give 'em a chance' I put it on hold. Of course, back at home and a few sleepless nights courtesy of Asda's squeaky gates and their annoying deliveries have brought me back to my grumpy senses.

Top of Bridge Street

So:

Asda, isn't it about time you got Grace Landscapes to replace the plants that succumbed to last winter's weather. I mean the plants at the top of Bridge Street. We're not bothered about the ones further down - just past our peasants entrance to Asda - as one thick woman encouraged her children to slide over the snow covered plants and killed them all, but we actually care about them up here.

Several weeks ago now [17th May to be precise], my neighbour told the bark-blower [skilled job, wouldn't mind it myself] that they needed replacing, he made a note to say we needed sixty-odd new plants and said he'd draw a diagram for them back at the office. We've also watered the trees - and the few remaining plants - across from us, because as we all know water goes downhill; so leaving our bit parched and they were at least a month's growth behind their bigger cousins half way down the street.

Update August 27th:
Hmm, Grace Landscapes have said they'll do more planting in the autumn because if they replaced the plants now it would mean they'd have to come and water them - so?

Update January 2012:
It looks a lot like Grace Landscapes were telling lies, they had no intention of replacing any plants whatsoever - another grab the cash and run merchant. Someone new has got the contract for Asda's gardens.

.....


Spot the Difference - Langley Mill and Eastwood

And now on to my bigger moan - still alas, plant orientated - and yes, I'm still using big words while I can remember what they mean ... and I'm English so will pooh pooh any suggestion that I use 'oriented' rather than 'orientated'.

I know our councils are supposed to be saving money, blah blah, but how come some councils can take the time, effort and a moderate expense to make the places we live, work and shop in look a bit more cheerful, and others, well ... don't.

Heanor's Entire Floral Display

Some councils would rather spend an exorbitant sum on a chunk of metal suffering from some sort of heavy duty metal-worm with a hula hoop stuck through it [yeah, yeah, I know there were art grants, donations blah, blah, blah]. You can tell I don't really like modern art - I like to recognise what it is that I'm looking at, rather than needing it explaining to me.

And if that's the sort of 'art' you're into, I can show you - for an arbitrary fee - an unmade bed [daily], and for no extra charge you can have a peek in my drawer full of excess lotions and potions - I will call this 'artistic' drawer 'Hormonal Imbalance'. I've also got a workmate plus lots of spare mahogany doors and a big drill if you prefer your 'art' with ventilation. Do feel free to call me a grumpy old philistine, because I simply don't care.

Hang on, I'm losing me thread here ... Oh yeah, flowers ... councils ... money:

Expensive Wing Thing

The same council then tell the world at large that they've been working on and improving Heanor. Ahem, we went through Heanor the other day and apart from some unsightly buildings having been demolished, I couldn't see any real improvement.

Now, having only previously seen a photo of this metal 'wing' thing - and the £20,000 price tag - I fully expected it to be on the 'Angel of the North' proportions. Ahem, it wasn't - and any time now it'll probably find itself on the back of one of the many opportunistic and no doubt illegal scrap wagons that turns up at least three times a week.

Eastwood's Flowers

We frequently pass through - and stop to shop in - our neighbouring Eastwood [Broxtowe council] and practically every lamppost has flowers on it, not to mention the troughs and multi-tiered containers. It actually lifts your spirits to see them and puts you in a much better - spending - mood. Or would have, had I not just been through Langley Mill, because Langley Mill's [Amber Valley Borough Council] lampposts are completely bare and our troughs contain grass and weeds - yes, neighbour ... before you gasp for breath in a 'that's the pot calling the kettle black' kind of way, I will admit to giving root room to a few weeds myself.

Eastwood's Flowers

I suppose someone will eventually feel the urge to put me straight about it being our local councils that decide whether or not to pretty up the neighbourhood - Well that's OK, I can blame them too, I'm nothing if not generous.

You know, I'm starting to experience a bit of déjà vu - spooky - or maybe this is a lot like my 2009 Christmas lights moan ...

Plans Submitted For Co-op/Potters in Langley Mill

2011-07-17T13:41:00.006+01:00

I always wonder when a certain person looks at my blog 'WHAT IT IS THEY THINK I SHOULD KNOW?'. A little visit to Amber Valley Borough Council's planning applications soon put me in the picture.

I mentioned a while back [April, rumour 1.] that Potters on Cromford Road was being made over with no planning permission. It now seems that the plans were submitted - dated 13th July 2011. Yes I know I'm slow - I have to work you know.

I would call it a 'retrospective planning application' but I'm only a nosy peasant so don't really know the rules on planning - although the application form is ticked 'NO' after the question 'Has the building, work or change of use already started'?

Anyway, here's the application number, off you interested parties go and have look for yourselves.

AVA/2011/0605 - MIDLANDS CO-OP SOCY LTD 47 Cromford road Langley Mill Derbyshire NG16 4EF

Proposed conversion of existing building to form 5 retail shops, 8 starter offices, 12 one and two bedroom apartments and miscellaneous storage areas. Roller shutters to provide security to each shop and solar panels.

I wonder why it's still called the Co-Op? I thought it was Potters, Hmm, further reading will be done after I've lunched ...

Out With The Old ...

2011-07-14T17:10:00.001+01:00

If you've read my previous post, you'll know that I've been tittering to myself since last Friday. I'll start from the beginning to paint the picture, so to speak.

Monday Evening:
We returned home from our tin hut by the sea with two new sets of bedside draws - a bargain from Skegness Focus as they were closing down.

Tuesday:
I armed myself with the required tools and set about building the cabinet/draws, my grumpy old man was hovering ... I wish he wouldn't as I like to do things alone unless there's a tricky screw I'm not tough enough to turn - and he knows this.

But no, he considerately told me what went where and reminded me not to forget the glue when putting the dowels in the drawer fronts. I reminded him who built every single kitchen cabinet and drawer. All he had to do was simply carry each one into the kitchen and dart [or something rhyming] about with his spirit level, declaring each time, 'Ooooh, that's level'.

It was hot so he thoughtfully got the big fan down from the attic ... yes the same fan I trod on during Friday night - because it never got put away - bending back my poor toe.

The draws were put in place, the old bedside cupboards were taken to the tip. Now I must ask all my friends who read this ... If I'm out shopping with you, please don't let me buy any body sprays or lotions. I could stock Boots! I'm a bugger for buying stuff, placing it where I'll use it. A few weeks go by - after I've used probably a centimetre of body lotion and a few of squirts of spray - then I decide everywhere is untidy.

Don't ask me why I decide this as I'm normally oblivious to my surroundings [my neighbour can confirm this] ... but I strongly suspect it's hormonal. Everything gets shoved in a cupboard or drawer in a willy nilly fashion and a week later I'm buying replacements. This also happens in the bathroom ... I DO NOT NEED ANY MORE BUBBLE-BATH OR SHOWER GEL! It's only a pity I'm not a domestic Goddess for three weeks out of every four and a slob for the one week, instead of the other way around.

Note to self: all my lotions and potions are now in a draw under the bed - the bottom of which is sagging alarmingly!

Hmmm, until that ancient, overwhelmingly large wardrobe goes and everything is rearranged, the bedroom door is in the way. It's forever launching itself at me as I try to walk past, either catching my elbow, dragging me back with a sleeve or pocket, stubbing my big toe, bending back my little toe or just generally trying to flatten my boobs. I requested that my GOM take it off and store it in the attic as it's never shut anyway. We have three doors in the attic now, mostly for the reasons outlined above.

Now I think about it, my GOM spends a fair bit of time moving things [not the fan] so I don't walk into them - anyone would think I was clumsy.

Wednesday:
You know, for the life of me, I can't remember what I did on Wednesday - it's a blank.

Thursday:
That wardrobe really has got to go, it's getting on my nerves ... but where do I put my clothes? Well, I've been asking grumpy for years to put a rail up in my two middle cupboards - there's six altogether, nine feet high and built into the alcove left of the chimney breast, his six are on the right. I wanted them poshed up and extended out but was prepared to compromise with just a rail [for now] to take my hanging clothes - which I never wear but may become fashionable again sometime in the next twenty years.

This was eventually accomplished with much sawing, screwing and shelf rearranging. Oh heck, more lotions and potions in the bottom cupboards. The bed was by now full of clothes, draws [as my chest of draws was now in the way and needed shifting] and one cat who steadfastly refused to move.

Charity bags to the rescue!! I filled two with my best clothes that I'd bought on a whim and will never wear. Then filled a bin bag with my worst clothes [boo hoo]. They were all eventually prised from my fingers to be whisked away by my butler/chauffeur before I had time to change my mind - again. I cheered myself up with the knowledge that I could fill at least four more bags before I noticed anything was missing ... and now my side of the wardrobe was empty!

Friday:
The day we finally got rid of an ancient piece of furniture - yes that wardrobe was nearly as old as me. There was some crap in there I can tell you [his side]. Not to mention the black and white telly in one of MY cupboards.

Now, where I was to be found poncing around in three bras [at the same time - very uplifting], a black and purple garter and a pair of red Budweiser braces during my cupboard and drawer rearranging [yes, I was fully dressed, I'm just daft], today my GOM was to be found wearing a Nottingham Forest scarf, fifteen ties, eight belts and a Jerry Lee Lewis T-shirt during the emptying of his stuff from the deepest recesses of the monolith.

Once it was empty and he was sure that we were doing this [sigh] to his wardrobe, we got on with taking it apart. There was lots of unscrewing and conversations that went ... 'over to you' ... 'have you got it?' ... 'pull it harder than that!' ... 'now just ease it this way' ... 'No, No, No!' ... 'ah, do it yerself!' ... 'no, no, come back here and hold this' ... 'I've broke a nail and I'm not playing anymore!' Eventually the wardrobe was door-less and in two halves.

Hmmm, now we've got to get these halves downstairs and onto the yard to be cut up and taken to the tip. This was achieved easily with one - me at the bottom to be squashed if he let go - the second required a return trip back upstairs to turn it around as we couldn't negotiate the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Grumpy was nearly in tears when he put the bits in the car, muttering that 'it's a shame, it's good wood that is'.

The wardrobe doors [got a nice theme going here] were going in the attic because 'you never know when they'll come in handy'.

Oh dear, oh dear, the doors didn't make it to the attic until Saturday, which is a shame really - I really must take this grin off my face. During the Friday night - when I woke grumpy to tell him why I was awake - first he got cramp in his leg and made so much noise that I couldn't hear the Asda delivery properly. Then he went to the loo ... on his way back he walked into the wardrobe doors leaning on the landing wall ... 'Owww, owww owww. I've broke me toe!' ... sympathetic reply 'Hurts, doesn't it?' ... and 'I bet you've woke the neighbours up.'

YES!! ...

Just Another Friday Night In Langley Mill

2011-07-09T13:58:00.003+01:00

I say Langley Mill, it's most likely happening across the entire country in varying degrees but I can only moan from my point of view.

.....

It's no secret what I think about Langley Mill .... I have described it as a sh*t hole in a previous post - I'm not about to alter my opinion on the place or a fair few of it's scummy inhabitants - and if the cap fits ...

Last night was yet another reason to intensely dislike the place a tidgy bit more.

12.14:
A group of youngish teenagers went grunting past with their usual caveman finesse, I couldn't hear what was being said and I wasn't trying to listen, they may even been comparing kn*b sizes as there was much jollity. Where do their parents think they are? The old trick of saying they're staying over at so and so's, I suppose. Don't parents check or indeed care?

01.45:
I was woken abruptly by what I took to be next door's cat screaming in pain ... this is guaranteed to get me out of bed in a flash. It turned out to be four drunken witches returning home after a night out via Chavsda [yes Asda, you've earned the name]. There were two of these mad bints straight across from us - one using her phone, both clutching their Chavsda bags - screeching at the other two to 'HURRY UP!! ...YOU'RE TAKING THE P*SS!!'

I noticed whilst looking upon this veritable tragic display of young womanhood, the completely invisible Chavsda delivery lorry waiting at the gates to be let in - remember they don't have deliveries in the night [according to one of their security men].

The ladylike reply to the - so far - one sided conversation came a few minutes later when I went to check through the back bedroom window on their somewhat staggering progress ... 'WAIT FOR US, YOU SCREECH, SCREECH $%*%%' - lovely. My annoyance was then made complete when I trod on the foot of the fan that some complete di**khead had left in my way - bending back a previously broken toe ... ouch!

I limped dramatically back to bed and woke grumpy up - I was awake ... this entitles me to make sure anyone in my immediate vicinity is equally awake. Then I explained in great detail why I was awake ... yes, feeling better already - a grievance shared and all that.

01.49:
SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK, clatter ... SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK! And yes, Asda's delivery gates still haven't been oiled - wa****s!

SQUAWK, SQUAWK, SQUAWK, SQUAWK - lorry reversing, presumably because the driver had driven up to the bell on the gate to announce is arrival - rather than get off his ar*e and walk to it. BRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM ... SQUAWK, SQUAWK, SQUAWK, SQUAWK - lorry reversing again. SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK, clatter ... SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK! - gates closed. Bang, boom, crash, bang, rattle - the lorry was emptied.

02.11
BRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM ... SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK, clatter - gates opening ... SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK! BRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM - lorry leaving ... SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK, clatter ... SQUUUUEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK! gates closed.

Peace at last - yeah right.

04.20:
A relationship ended - hopefully ... It didn't end quietly - no such luck, there was much bellowing along the lines of ... from him - 'YOU AND ME ... WE'RE FINISHED!'... from her - 'Wah, wah'. This went on in the same vein for a good fifteen minutes, mostly him telling her why they were finished, interspersed with a bit of sobbing and a lot of effin.

05.10:
Gobby teenagers passed by again ... see the bit above.

05.55:
Ditto.

06.00:
Asda delivery ... you know the routine by now - but this was somewhat overshadowed by someone down the street going on holiday and loudly announcing every item placed in the car. By this time I didn't really care and probably wouldn't even be awake if I wasn't already thoroughly disgruntled and determined to wake up at the drop of a hat - although I don't recall hearing a single train.

Yawn ...

My GOM - who told them at Chavsda this afternoon about their bloody gates for the fourth time - had a worse night, but that's for another post ... I'll just say that I wasn't grumpy the entire night and I still keep tittering to myself ...

Jigsaw Puzzling ... The Crumbly Way

2011-07-01T11:05:00.003+01:00

Just lately, with the weather being a bit showery, blowy and somewhat cooler than I need for sitting outside my tin hut, we've been filling some of our leisure time with that age old pastime of jigsaw puzzles. I can sit outside [shivering] when it's moderately draughty with the aid of wind breaks - in some sort of maze configuration; courtesy of my grumpy old man - but even I have to give in when I'm being bombarded with bits of tree.

This puzzling was ok for a short time, I like doing the edges then I rapidly lose interest and just do a bit when I feel like it ... not my grumpy old man, he plods doggedly on and on and on.

Well, that's not such a bad thing, you may say, at least it's keeping him quiet ... You think?!?

There's a constant commentary of what piece should go where ... And what's that bit doing up there? mutter, mutter ... I need another bit shaped like that, now where is it? rattle, clatter as the pieces are shuffled in the box ... aha, ha ha ha, there it is, fancy that being there ... now I'm looking for a piece with a bit of blue on it, mumble mumble ... oh, that's not it, hmm, what if I turn it round, no not that way .. aha! Tap, tap tap - as he made it quite clear to the puzzle, the cat and myself that - yes, that piece did indeed fit there!

Occasionally I'll waft past, pick up a piece [one of his bits] and put it in while he's not looking - not always in the right place ... I am horrible remember. This is mostly because all he lets me do is the sky whilst hogging all the interesting and colourful bits for himself. Even then he had to interfere, because whenever he found a piece of mine that fitted, he strategically placed it right where I'd see it [practically touching where it needed to be].

Once I'd discovered he was doing this - it took at least four pieces of puzzle before I cottoned on - I threw the offending bit of puzzle back in the box, shook it up and threatened that if he touched my sky once more I'd chuck the lot on the floor. I'm like that - I've done the odd crossword where someone has looked over my shoulder to give me an answer [a very, very, very bad idea]. The crossword ends up thrown to one side, my arms are folded, the bottom lip sticks out and a major sulk ensues - yes I am childish, but if I want help [highly unlikely - stamp, stamp] I'll ask for it.

This puzzling has of course taken over my dining table, meaning that we've had to use trays for dinner, something I'm not happy with. Yesterday I decided that we WERE sitting at the table and plonked the place mats on top of his puzzle. I could see him wincing and his hands were hovering protectively above it. I say puzzle, it's mostly pieces as we've finished the one with my sky [foxglove cottage], and only recently started another one.

'Oh, are we having dinner on here? ... I really ought to put some sort of cover on' ... 'Leave it!' I ordered as I flirted bits out of the way to place coasters and condiments - I've told you, I'm proper evil I am.

On this latest puzzle, he's started sorting out different areas on a tray [yet again leaving me the sky]. All was relatively peaceful - apart from the obligatory running commentary - when THUD, clatter, as he dropped the tray. I didn't even turn around to look at the scattered puzzle. I sat firmly glued to my spot, I know he'll be struggling to pick them up with his chewed finger nails, but he shouldn't make us jump [both me and the cat]. Hmmm, he's very quiet, that makes a nice change.

About an hour later ... THUD, clatter! Oh bugger it, I'd better help him this time ... 'There's no need', he announces while holding is hand up in a 'stay right there' kind of way. Oh yes, I can see why. There he is merrily scooping the puzzle pieces up with MY spatula. He's a right tinker with my stuff - you really don't want to know what he does with a carving knife and, ooooh, my poor tea-towels ...

A Bit of Twitching

2011-06-28T09:21:00.000+01:00

Male Sparrowhawk, Winthorpe

If you have read bits of my blog before, you may have guessed by now that I don't go in for thrill seeking hobbies or white knuckle rides. Apparently this doesn't make me boring, just a comfort seeker. Therefore we can assume that I have the required amount of endorphins [whatever] behaving themselves in my brain and plenty of adrenalin whizzing around my body and so don't need to push myself [just as well] into jumping out of aeroplanes, off of tall buildings fastened to a rubber band or to go white water rafting, I'm not saying I wouldn't like to try [yes I am], but I'm quite happy not bothering.

And anyway, I've had a fair few thrills bird watching, you can be minding your own business in one half of Mere hide at Gibraltar Point - the noisy half, seeing as the GOM is usually whispering in mega-decibels - when you get a whispered shout from the quiet, studious, serious side to 'come and have a look at this.'

Well, what is a girl to do with an offer like that? Yes, I went. There were three men all wanting to show me their equipment. One had got a posh digital camera with various attachments, trained on an obliging dragonfly. It was truly amazing, I could see it breathing. I was then nice enough [I can be nice, just not very often] to act dim while they explained 'thorax' to me.

Mystery Bird

I may even have mentioned once or twice before [repeating oneself is an age thing - get used to it], we don't actually have to go looking for wildlife as we've got plenty at the caravan aka 'the manor', including this little chap who visited for three days and was never to be seen again - sorry about the poor photo quality but they were taken with my old, less zoomy camera. My brother in law - a much more knowledgeable twitcher - went back to his very first theory [after a little light research], that it was a Canary crossed with a Chaffinch that had escaped from an aviary.

Back to the thrills of Gibraltar Point ... On one occasion we set off on our way around and couldn't help noticing an over-excited group of people [aged variously between 20-70], all wearing shades of green and khaki. They also sported the obligatory walking boots with thick socks over their trousers.

Female Sparrowhawk, Gibraltar Point

Bearing in mind that the routes most of them took are accessible by mobility scooters and wheelchairs - this bunch made my decision of NOT wearing the proper 'twitcher' uniform so much easier.

They were all carrying binoculars [as was I, plus my camera], half a dozen had spotter scopes set up on tripods and were looking intently at a tree in the middle distance. 'Oooh, must be something good if they're all this excited' methinks, so we asked ...

'It's a Yellowhammer!!!' - yeah, right ... So I have to ask myself 'am I getting blasé in my old age or what?' We'd seen three Yellowhammers a few days before and I don't remember walking around and waving my arms about like this lot - but I suppose they may well be repressed thrill-seekers. We saw lots more of them on our usual route [we do sometimes go on a different route if we need a bit more excitement]. We concluded that they must have been on a bus trip from a bird watching club or maybe just escapees from somewhere not very secure.

Goldcrest

We have seen some - not particularly rare, but hard to spot - birds at Gibraltar Point including a Goldcrest who positively refused to pose nicely, hence the blurred photo. but to be honest we go there more for the walk, change of scenery and fresh air, oh and to see the seals on the sandbank when the tide is out.

I remember one occasion last year that we went to test my lovely new gadget [again]. I took photos of damselflies, dragonflies and even managed to spot and take a few shots of a Whitethroat. Upon looking at the photos in situ, the GOM wasn't convinced.

Whitethroat

As we got back to the car park, he wondered off to look at the information board and when he got back to us [my chum with an equally new, but less gadgety camera and I] waiting at the car, he grudgingly admitted that I could well be right - or in his professional opinion, it was definitely a Sea Buckthorn ... Yes, you and I know it's a bushy plant with orange berries, but I didn't see the point in arguing. He didn't really believe me until a week or so later.

Sea Buckthorn

It was late, but I was in a writing mood so I was sat with my fingers poised - all four typing fingers - above my keyboard. grumpy had just gone to bed to read; when I heard this odd noise. It sounded like a strangled gasp. It turned out to be himself trying not to laugh out loud. He'd found a Gibraltar Point leaflet amongst his pile of books and was laughing at a picture of Sea Buckthorn. I do hope no one was passing our caravan at about 12.30am, it was definitely rocking with laughter ...

Locked Out And The Alleged Revenge

2011-06-16T14:22:00.004+01:00

We came back to dear old Langley Mill last Monday after being in our 'tin hut by the sea' for a couple of weeks. We started our usual round of family visits Tuesday afternoon. When we arrived home from the first [number two daughter] grumpy went in - I think - but I noticed our neighbours coming up the street so stayed to have a word with them.

The 'word' was 'are you putting the kettle on?'

Being the lovely person I am - and not forgetting that this is the same neighbour who feeds my fish, waters my plants [and weeds] and takes in all my parcels when I'm not there - I agreed that 'yes, I'm putting the kettle on, tea or coffee?', and we all set off down the entry.

Oh, strange, the door is locked ... 'he did come this way didn't he?' - this is not the daft question it sounds because my grumpy old man has a habit of veering off if he spots ~~a victim~~ someone to talk to [who isn't quick enough to avoid him].

'Shall I fetch my key?' asked my neighbour ... 'No he must be in so his key will be in the lock.'

We all shouted, I knocked on the door and dining room window. Surely he's heard us, he can't be that far away - the house just isn't big enough, if next doors cat breaks wind I can hear it - and believe it or not, we can be further apart in our caravan than we can at home.

I could see into the front room from where we stood because the door was open. Hmm, I bet he's looking at his 'hosses' on the front room telly. Off I went back up the entry to knock on the front room window - no use knocking on the front door, he'd ignore it. Sure enough there he sits, remote in hand, racing results on ... 'You've locked me out, you moron!' ... 'What?' this reply was accompanied by his best glazed expression.

I know that I'm way down his list of important stuff - I hover between the car and the cat ... in that order [well after the hosses], but how can he forget me like that? Boo hoo.

.....

The following morning ... quite early, I opened the blind and bounced back into bed awaiting my coffee - the bounce was my signal to my butler/chauffeur/grumpy old man to wake up and go and make the coffee. Unfortunately being only a sniff away from geriatric-dom myself, I misjudged the bounce and caught the GOM on his knee with my toe nail. 'Oops'. '. . . . . . .' Oh that's odd I expected more reaction than, well, nothing.

Two minutes later - we're in genuine geriatric territory here so a delayed reaction can be excused - the GOM announced that he was going to get up and inspect his knee; where I'd obviously caused irreparable damage with at least a three inch long cut, probably right down to the bone, he would then hobble downstairs in considerable pain and under great duress to find a bandage and make my coffee.

'It's bleeding!' ... It wasn't, he couldn't even manage to squeeze one spot out of it. 'I'm going to tell everyone and write about it on t'internet.' Yeah, right. This is the same man who falls out with his wireless mouse, declaring that it won't go where he wants it until I take it out of his hand and turn it around.

He demanded I take photos of the injury in case he needed to make a claim against me. He needn't start this tit for tat who-has-caused-who-most-injuries because I'm afraid I'd win hands down - not to mention that he is responsible for at least two broken toes

Only last week he thought he'd give me a hug whilst shaving - a bad idea, don't do it, at least not while it's still switched on - the end result was me minus lots [well about 5 strands] of hair pulled out by the roots and him having to dismantle his shaver to get them out. There's no wonder we spend most of our time giggling ...

A Joyride ... On Heanor Haulage Yard

2011-06-11T11:59:00.000+01:00

Before you read this, I must apologise for my obvious swearing which is dotted throughout this post, but I was [as my friend observed yesterday] in a really tetchy mood - although I feel much better after my latest mini-rant:

My grumpy old man was just off on yet another of his trips to the tip yesterday morning when Mr Heanor Haulage shouted to him - it was probably only to say 'hello' but my GOM takes any form of greeting as an invitation to move in and make himself comfy ... bless him.

It turns out that HH were broken into, sometime between Thursday afternoon last week and Monday morning. This time there was significant damage caused because some smart ar*e managed to get the crane started and ran amok with it.

Luckily the damage was confined to HH property [no tears from me then], but could have been worse. One of the flat-beds struck by the crane gouged a six foot long furrow. If it hadn't been weighed down [with crap, presumably] it would have ended up in someone's house.

There have been threats made by Mr HH to trees or at least some branches as he wrongly assumed that they were used to climb in over the fence. Not at all, I know how easy it is to get in there, so easy I could manage it myself if I was so minded [I may have mentioned it before].

Anyway we weren't at home - being at the seaside as befits our crumbly status - so not there to enjoy the fun or to ring the police ... of course there were footballers on Queen Street rec that know whodunnit [but are keeping mum], we know this because one of these self confessed witnesses shouted over to ask if they'd caught them yet.

I know Heanor Haulage come and go, make a racket, pollute our atmosphere then bog off on an erratic schedule, but I'd have thought that someone farther down Bridge Street or at the top of Dean Street would have heard the wrecking spree.

The consequence for us poor sods at the top of Bridge Street - well those of us without a tin hut by the sea to escape to - is that the crane is no longer stored in the middle of HH yard, but has now taken up noisy residence - jacked up so immobile - next to the top house.

This is a really bad place for it - because as sure as I'm grumpy [oh yes I am] - Mr HH will start it up for whatever reason [fairly frequently if the last couple of days are anything to go by], and the fumes that that decrepit heap of sh*t chug out are truly horrendous.

These black, acrid fumes just waft straight around the corner and into our open windows - yes, I know it's stupid of us to assume that we can have our windows or doors open without being beaten back by muck, fumes and noise from H-effin-H ... and Asda with their squawk, squawk, squawk [lorry reversing] deliveries and bloody squeaky gates, we've only asked them THREE times to oil them - you'd have thought we'd have learnt better by now [rant not quite over yet - but I am getting there].

At one point - being the twitcher I am - I was on the street taking photos of [evicted] House Martins on HHs yard collecting mud for nests, when the pile of junk was started up again - cough, wheeze - I was fighting for breath and I swear the birds were keeling over ... but I suppose if I do stand in the middle [yes it is the middle, Asda says so] of Langley Mill, expecting to be able to do something as unrealistic as breathing, then I'm just asking to have my nose and lungs - ergo my brain - filled with poison.

My GOM went and asked if they'd mind not using the crane quite so much - they do have a tendency to leave it chugging merrily away to itself, but I'm not convinced this is actually worse than keep starting it up over and over again.

This request was met with Mr HH's usual charm - bolshy bast**d!

Not a good move on his part, because I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever again [do I make myself quite clear?] phone the police when little [or big] tw*ts break into his yard. In fact, when they've finished playing around in there [stealing cable, joyriding - whatever], I'll most likely invite them in for a cuppa and a biscuit - no, I don't believe me either but it reads good.

His totally unnecessary bombastic reaction to such a reasonable request wouldn't have been quite the smack in the face it was, if we hadn't just provided him with the photos of the bored teenagers who broke in at Easter.

Oh yes, and we're all supposed to be getting a visit from the police in case we witnessed anything. If they take as long as the last proposed visit - still waiting - then I won't be holding what's left of my breath ...

McDonalds In Langley Mill ... Yet Again

2011-06-01T20:28:00.031+01:00

McDonalds have resubmitted a planning application for CJ Cars - Planning Application AVA/2011/0443 - 206 Station Road Langley Mill Derbyshire NG16 4AE. Proposed new fast food outlet on the former second hand car dealers site - Resubmission of AVA/2010/1227.

They anticipate a decision by 22nd July 2011.

There are also numerous applications for advertisement consent for totem signs, fascia signs and 14 various other signs. Curiously the decisions on these [three] applications are expected on 21st July [the day before the main plans] ... it looks serious this time folks.

No, I'm not going to do a nice little link to the planning applications at AVBC. Yes, I do have the technology, but we all need to learn how to find things ourselves - tut, I can be so mean at times.

I've not been desperate or bored enough yet to see if the original plans have been tinkered with [access improvements or otherwise] ...

Update 3rd June:

I've had a few teeny-weeny moments of boredom so took a peek at the above planning application. It didn't take too long to find what I was looking for [first guess]. It could be that the council were as unimpressed with the transport assessment as I was. Another one has been carried out - possibly not as big a fantasy as the original.

Oh, and there's a proposed tweaking of road markings at the bottom of Wesley street [middle of the road, right turn in] so access to McDonalds can be extended.

I stopped being bored enough to look any further - I soon lose interest ... it's my age.

Incidentally, I'm not against McDonalds coming to Langley Mill - I don't actually think we NEED one as much as they think we do - but it does need to be safe for pedestrians and traffic. And I do hope they're a bit tidier than another nearby fast food restaurant - because their litter ends up in the canal ...

Update 11th August:

You know, you can get fed up of checking to see if McDonalds have got their planning permission, I'm using up valuable t'Interweb bandwidth through nosiness.

Although a decision was anticipated by 22nd July, they don't seem to have had one so far, nor can I see that they're up for discussion in August 15th planning board documents - yet ...

Update 18th September:

Having had a quick cruise on t'interweb to see if I could find anything about this application as it seems to be dragging on a bit, I came across another - slightly more professional [no moaning] and possibly totally unbiased - blog, namely 'the best of Heanor and Ripley' - which says the plans have been refused [although I can't find where it says so yet at AVBC] because of highway safety - well there's a total surprise ...

So, I wonder where the next plans for McDonalds will be? ...

Asda’s Torture Therapy

2011-05-18T09:19:00.027+01:00

Monday 9th May:
Pretty uneventful day ... work, work. work.

Tuesday 10th May - very early [still dark]:
SSSSSSQQQQQQUUUEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLLLL
What is that NOISE!!????
I eventually got up and dressed and went in search of this horrific noise. Hmm, I think it's from across the road and if it's Asda's 'breathable' building causing it, then it wants chuffing suffocating! It didn't seem to be bothering anyone else though so I was very much on my own ... at this point.

Later:
We went out - I couldn't stand it any more, by now my grumpy old man could hear it too [sans hearing aid] and I was to find out later that so could my neighbour who earlier had been making too much noise of her own [cleaning] to be aware of the constant squeal. After sitting down for five minutes, she became very aware.

Even later:
We arrived home to find the noise had stopped, YIPPEE! They must have fixed it.

Wednesday 11th May- 5.37:
SSSSSSQQQQQQUUUEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLLLL
Oh no, not again. I got up, it's no use staying in bed with that noise, it's bloody torture! I started work, I might as well get some benefit out of being up early.

Lunchtime - My grumpy old man came home after doing whatever it is that grumpy old men do when they're let loose. 'I can hear that noise' he announced, 'I'm going to see 'em at Asda because they can't know about it' ... Off he went.

The manager was asked for, he got a security man and a 'Dave' ... 'It's not us!' the 'Dave' categorically stated. ... 'Hmmm, ok, but while I'm here - and for the second time of asking - will you get some grease on the delivery yard gate bolts? They squeak awful in the night.' ... 'We don't have deliveries in the night, 6.00am is our earliest delivery' ... This from the security guard who either doesn't know what he's talking about and should shut up or is just a liar ... he can choose.

Upon grumpy's return I abandoned my work [losing money here Asda!!!] and went to make sure of our facts as to where the noise was coming from. We saw the aforementioned security guard at the back of Asda and he pointed towards Netto - I have to ask ... with this type of intelligence whether or not he was fit for the job, hmm, probably perfect actually.

I went on over the bridge to check on the units at the top of North Street and although the high pitched squeal/whine was still loud on the bridge it disappeared going down the steps. Grumpy went to check at Smiths Flour Mill. No, it was definitely Asda so I went back to work [you owe me Asda!] and my GOM went back to see the 'Dave' again. By now the 'Dave' agreed it was them and it was being sorted.

So complete denial to full admittance - such training Asda staff receive.

Yes, I know it's boring and long winded but it is a diary ...

Thursday 12th May 5.48:
SSSSSSQQQQQQUUUEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLLLL
I'm up again and getting tetchy now through lack of sleep, I never EVER go to bed before midnight [usually later] because I don't need to. If that f%**%$%*$ NOISE doesn't stop sometime today I'm going to go down to Asda and start making nasty threats. By now, it's obvious that it's something to do with the bakery as it starts stupidly early and finishes 6.00pm-ish. [not sure as I was always out when it stopped].

My neighbour is as badly affected as me, along with our cats and her dog, they just sit rigid with a pained expression on their faces ... Me? Well, I look like I'm sucking on a lemon.

Friday 13th May 4.30am:
A delivery to listen to [these don't happen in the night apparently so feel free to ignore this moan]. Admittedly the 6.00am delivery is louder and sounds like thunder rumbling [pallets and cages], lots of clanking, clattering and booming [like two boats banging into one another in a harbour] what do they do in there?

4.40am:
SSSSSSQQQQQQUUUEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLLLL
I got up and started my new work that we fetched last night - a really, really bad idea. For once it's not the type of work I can do with my eyes glued to the telly or firmly shut while I nod off [I do this].

No, this is the stuff I have to concentrate on whilst looking through a magnifying light at something no bigger than a needle point to get it the right way - 30,000 times and no mistakes or I'm in very deep do-do [it's all very hush hush and I'm not actually allowed to say what could happen if I get it wrong]. The system is; I do a 1,000, check them then the GOM re-checks them then I check them all again much later with fresh wide awake eyes.

I check my first 1,000 - Oh sh*t, so many wrong! I have no choice but to pack it away, my ears are screaming, I've got a throbbing headache and I can't think straight. Oh no! I've got a deadline. I've promised this work will be done and back by 23rd May. There's nothing else for it, we've got to go to the tin hut by the sea two days ahead of schedule.

8.45:
My neighbour phoned ... 'Are you dressed? I can't stand it any longer, are we going to Asda?' ... 'Yes! I'm on my way!!!!'.

We went to customer services and asked for the manager, he was on holiday - we got a 'Kirsty' and a 'Phil' instead. Before either of us got a chance to say anything - 'Is it about the noise?' 'Well, let me apologise and explain ... it's a fan in the bakery [I told you so], it's going at half speed, there's no on/off switch [I could have remedied this with a hammer, I'm sure I didn't suggest it, but I may have mentioned setting fire to the place at some point].

The 'Phil' likened it to a dimmer switch that's turned on half way ... he must use cheap dimmer switches because more expensive ones don't squeal [or indeed hum] - I'd know. If he meant transformer then he should have said so, we do know long words on Bridge Street, some of us use lots of them [irrespective of their true meanings] and anyway I'm very intimate with the workings of transformers.

Yes, I'm being horrible, Phil was actually very, very nice and extremely apologetic and worked in finances, just the sort of person to talk to about maintenance, but the 'Kirsty brought him with her to explain things to us - presumably because she's a woman and doesn't know 'mens stuff'.

Now - to get really pi**ed off ... Apparently they didn't know about the noise until Thursday when someone phoned up to complain - although [if you're going to contradict yourself, don't do it in front of me - auto-pilot or not, my brain still soaks up verbal diarrhoea like a sponge] they could ALL hear it in the offices, hmm.

We explained that my GOM had been in twice on Wednesday and saw a security man and a 'Dave' - 'Oh well we weren't in work then'. Such communication! We said that having been neighbours of Heanor Haulage we're used to being agreed with to our faces, then being fobbed off with false assurances and finally totally ignored ... grimaces all around at the mention of Heanor Haulage and suggestions that they are a law unto themselves. The 'Kirsty' said 'Oh we're not allowed to do that', I said that I wasn't suggesting they were - but they weren't doing a bad job if Wednesday was anything to go by.

Anyway a 'John' was coming to fix it this morning, he was at an emergency in Sutton. He was either going to force the fan to run at full speed or switch it off and order a new unit.

We left sort of satisfied, witnessed what was probably a drugs deal part way down the street then bumped into my other neighbour - they'd been in to complain on Thursday. Don't Asda talk a load of bo***ks?!

During my ironing/packing the noise stopped, I saw two men on Asda roof and reached for my phone to text my neighbour. Ooh, she beat me to it - a text from her saying 'it's stopped!'

Yippee!!

Not for long, it carried on as before.

I'm not going to over-bore you with details on how I was in a right state by the time we got to the caravan [8.45pm], but I will say I was in bed before 9.00pm [unheard of] and I didn't unpack [bugger, forgot lot's of important things in my befuddled state] until Saturday - with my ears whistling their very own tune.

During the weekend I kept in touch with my neighbour, who by Monday seemed to be at the point I'd reached on Friday, with the noise now having a new and interesting vibration.

I know that these Asda people told us that they're not there to annoy anyone - even saying that Asda's built 10 years ago are still receiving complaints, hmm, really - but they're doing a good job of annoying us so far. We'd already had one horrendous year with the demolition/construction [expected] then more noise and mess with them clearing up after themselves this year [unexpected and unnecessary]. But Asda - as with all developers - try to brainwash us into believing that they're doing us a huge favour.

Anyway, I'm lucky. If I hadn't been able to escape, I'd almost certainly be out of a job now. Unreliability doesn't exactly get you sacked at the company I work for, but work would simply run out for me.

I lost hours of sleep, hours of work/money that I had to make up over the weekend [no time to blog either but I'm now finally caught up to where I should be with my work].
I don't suppose Asda will compensate us for our suffering - and believe me, we've suffered.

Two weeks ago Argos inconvenienced me for 20 minutes and gave me a big apology and a £5 voucher. So Asda, over to you ...

UPDATE - Thursday 19th May:
Text from my neighbour ... The high pitched whine has now been replaced with what sounds like a GIANT CRICKET!!!

A Further Update - Friday 20th May:
At last, it's quiet [relatively speaking] the offending fan must have been fixed - and about time too ...

.....

Thanks???? for the facebook link - David - Just call me Miss Marple while I have a chuckle ...

Bored Teenagers in Langley Mill

2011-05-04T12:59:00.002+01:00

We were only back a day from our tin hut by the sea before I was phoning the police - as per Mr Heanor Haulage's request when we see trespassers on his yard. Although they could have taken what they wanted for all I cared, if HH aren't going to provide security with all the money they've been given for different bits of land - well tough.

My concern was that it was dusk and there was one loony walking along our back wall - I'd just gone to turn my computer off and was stunned to see this crackpot behaviour. The wall in question is one brick thick and at least twelve or thirteen feet high, he was asking to break his neck ... yeah, OK I admit it, I shouted 'I hope you fall off and break your neck, you tw*t', through the window - but that's me, I'm quite horrible - but I would have been devastated if he did fall [and broke anything of mine].

There they were, running around the yard, acting ever so big, climbing up onto things, trying to shove one flatbed off of another [I've mentioned that HH double decker them. When they failed to push one off they climbed on top and started jumping up and down, hmm, so that's how they reached the outbuildings wall.

Of course by the time the police arrived they'd climbed up onto something and jumped back out of the compound. I was called back by the police twice, firstly to make sure where it was actually happening [as Heanor Haulage is still classed as being on Wesley Street]. Secondly to ask if they'd got a football with them. I wasn't about to get anyone into trouble that weren't involved so answered quite truthfully that there were already lads on the rec playing football [although they may have been part of the same group].

Two days went by and the police rang again to thank me and to ask if it was an ongoing problem with teenagers playing on HH compound. I replied that they do mess about on there every so often. An email was going to be sent to Langley Mill police, even though I said that I thought they'd be aware of the problem. I was asked if I'd mind the police visiting for a chat. Hmmm.

Yes, that very afternoon ... what the police? no, don't be daft, they were doing more important stuff [this really is trivial until someone gets a spike up their a**e or killed].
The same lads running around HH and climbing on things. Oh heck another one climbing over the fence, watching that really did make me wince. After they made a few more calls to their mates they went onto the front [slurry corner] where three more climbed over - the sissy way - to join them.

Note to anyone who wants to know - Mr HH, police - it's easy to get in just there, even I could manage it at a push ... with a stepladder of course, I'm not cocking my leg up for anyone.

By the time they'd done a bit of sunbathing on the flatbeds and tried to get the crane started they must have lost interest and decided to visit Asda before returning to Queen Street recreation ground.

Now I want to make it VERY clear that it wasn't me being nosy - I was trying to pursue my latest and not inexpensive hobby but the grumpy old man kept asking me ... 'Have you got your camera handy?' and 'Can you see what the tw*ts are up to now!?' it was easier to stand there like a nodding dog by his side at the window than spend my hard earned dosh at ebay.

I didn't ring the police as it's mostly a waste of time, but someone else may have done because a police car was parked on our street. A few minutes later a policeman came back with several bottles that he'd taken from them. This was witnessed by my GOM [who else?], as by this time I'd managed to velcro my a**e to my chair and was spend, spend spending!

So, they were not only stupidly climbing over a high spiked fence but also thinking they could do it easily without putting a foot wrong due to alcohol ... tw*ts.

Minutes later a woman turned up with a fresh supply of drink in a carrier bag. I'm not suggesting for a minute that it was alcohol but they did hide it in the bushes.

Oh incidentally, my superzoom, whizzo camera was glued to my sticky right mitt during bits of this activity and I took a clear photo of each and every one of them - now deleted from my camera as I don't keep crap on it. But, ahem, there is a photo CD knocking around somewhere among my stuff, entitled 'Tw*ts of Langley Mill' .

I wish they'd find something less stupid and dangerous to do during the school holidays or at least do it where I and - much more importantly - my grumpy old man can't see them ...

Skeggy And Back

2011-04-26T18:21:00.003+01:00

We've been to sunny Skegness to open our 'tin hut' by the sea. Of course the first thing we all do - after the boring, de-wigwamming of the seating and mattresses, collecting swimming salt dishes, cleaning and finally hanging three miles of colour coded [so I know which of the nine windows it belongs to] nets - is to check that all our near neighbours are still not dead ... it's what caravan owners do after winter because most are of a certain age and winter is when we tend to drop off our perches.

As luck would have it, we had no losses this year [unlike last] so all's well with our little world.

Our badgers have been visiting again, it only took a few nights of peanuts left out before we saw one. Then a week went by and although the nuts were gone every morning we never had another badger sighting. The fox did pay us a visit but he's like lightening and won't pose for a photo.

A couple of nights before returning home we decided to wait up until a badger came but had to give in about 2.00am. The following night the cat woke me up at 12.30 [we were too tired to wait up again], I went to ~~threaten her with violence~~ see what she wanted and she ran into the living room to look through the window.

There he was - a badger munching loudly on his nuts. They are very noisy eaters who wouldn't be invited to eat at my dinner table [my grumpy old man only scrapes through by dint of it being his table]. I woke grumpy up so he could have a look and apologised to my clever cat who purred her way back to bed.

It took approximately two hours for most of the birds to return once the food was out, including twelve greenfinches, two thrushes, chaffinches, goldfinches, great tits, blue tits, robins, blackbirds, ducks ... and house sparrows - which strangely enough we don't see in our bit of Langley Mill.

We do have dunnocks at home - who stupidly nested in a bush next to our kitchen window, lining the nest with my neighbours cat's fur. You'd have thought the material used would have told them that it wasn't a good idea. Anyway it was sadly abandoned with one turquoise egg dropped in a flower pot below by the time we got home.

Hmm, home, well that's another story ...

Langley Mill Railway Sidings ... Epilogue

2011-04-11T15:04:00.004+01:00

My Grumpy Old Man was a bit worried about me publishing this post - asking me if it was a good idea to admit that ... 'yes it was me'. He may have a point, but I can't imagine they'd think for a minute that I wasn't among the small group of people who reported them to the council. I don't think I'm breaking any rules by writing about it and if I am - sue me for telling the truth ...

Oh yeah, I'll just get a few rumours in first:

Potters on Cromford Road is being turned into flats and shops .. there is work being done in Potters at the moment, but myself and a fellow grumpy have searched for plans and can't find them anywhere at AVBC.
Langley Mill's Netto staff will be absorbed into Asda leaving Netto empty for the next McDonalds application.
I'm going to stop writing my blog and annoying people.
I'm going to get even more irritating as I get older.

Hmm, ok the last one isn't really a rumour and the one before it is a downright lie, but hey, I'm short of rumours.

.....

Right back to the real world:

Having had a chat recently with friends from over t'bridge, it gradually dawned on me that some people in Langley Mill may think the recent landscaping on the railway sidings is part of the improvements to Pottery Lane; which is generously being paid for by Asda.

Well let me disillusion them here and now. The work has been done because Amber Valley Borough Council had a little word with Asda and their buddies about dumping their demolition/construction waste there in the first place.

The moral of this story is ... If you're going to do something devious and underhand, then make sure you can't be seen by a crotchety, middle aged woman with a superzoom whizzo camera virtually glued to her sticky right mitt, and who - to misquote Stan from 'Dinner Ladies' - had got her dander up!

Yes, it was me who filled in the Enforcement Form at Amber Valley Borough Council. And I only hope it has cost enormous sums of money rectifying the unauthorised works.

Judging by the planning - lots of men discussing, pointing, and measuring etc, then how long it took to do it [a week] ... plus the equipment used ... a digger, two road-sweepers, a skip and at least ten - twelve lorries every day, all day ... and then all the replacement trees and bushes ... it did.

GOOD.

Therefore, if anyone out there sees anything happening that they're almost certain hasn't got planning permission, don't just sit back and think, 'Well it's too late now'. That's exactly what these developers are depending on, because they're not actually doing anything illegal [at this point].

Just get your typing finger out and fill in the Planning Enforcement Form on the council website [it's a lot easier than you think ... finding it is the hardest bit]. They will even do their best to make sure you remain anonymous.

... As I would have been if I wasn't so thoroughly annoyed by Asda, RG Group and Heanor Haulage destroying the only area of ecological value - by trying to get rid of their construction/demolition waste cheaply [I can't see any other logical reason for doing it] and incidentally, very dangerously because one lorry driver was positively certifiable - that I've written about it all ... oh at least half a dozen times [starting early last November], so anonymity has had to take a bit of back seat.

Admittedly things weren't plain sailing as the council was firstly fobbed off by Asda and their representatives with ... 'Oh yes, we've finished building Asda now, so we'll move that big heap of spoil [that is hiding the real damage] as soon as possible' [my interpretation from the email I received]. It was at this point that I nearly gave up, but then thought ... 'They can chuffing ar**hole if they think I am!' - This is where grumpydom is terrific, it gives you extra ooooomph!

So, while in high dudgeon I emailed the council again with photos - of which I have so very many - and further explanation of where the dodgy doings had been done.

By 17th December of last year I knew that Asda and their associates would be doing the remedial work which has now finally been completed [meant to be done in January but more realistically done in March]. There we are then, I've finally got that off my chest ... It's been simmering for weeks and weeks, old pot boiler that I am ...

Cromford Road Recycling Site

2011-03-20T14:29:00.011Z

My grumpy old man has been repeatedly asking me over the last couple of weeks ... 'Have you blogged about the recycling bins yet?' I have to remind him every so often that this IS my blog and if he's so bothered to write his own. And anyway I've been busy writing about things that interest me - like rg Group attempting to undo the irreparable damage caused to the railway sidings.

He comes in most days announcing - not 'Hello darling, you look lovely' - but more along the lines of ... 'I want you to write about blah blah blah' ... my brain has generally cut off most auditory senses by now, and I sit nodding and shaking my head - at what I judge to be the appropriate moments by his increase in volume - with an expression approaching sympathy [my face can't lie either]. Nine times out of ten it's usually some tw*t or other driving in a way that annoys him.

Righto, anything to oblige - and shut him up - here goes.

OI COUNCIL! Where has our recycling site on Cromford Road gone? Grumpy went down Bridge Street with our plastic a couple of weeks ago, and there the bins were - gone! He said that other people had obviously visited before him as there were several carrier bags full of plastic bottles left where they used to be.

Yes, we know Asda is going to HAVE a recycling area, but it's not there yet is it? No, because the recycling space is currently taken up with construction containers for the almost ready petrol station.

Do I take it that you want us to further pollute the atmosphere by making a special journey in the car - as indeed grumpy did [twice] - to take our recycling elsewhere? Or would you like us to send all our plastic to landfill since you are neither providing this area with the means of proper recycling, nor do you want to collect it from the kerbside with the crappy recycling system you've got ... money, money, money.

Oh yeah, I've read in our latest Derbyshire County Council 'What a wonderful job we're doing for you' newspaper that we're being bribed to recycle - all we have to do is leave our recycle bins out on our collection day and we could win £50 shopping vouchers. Apparently they've given away 36 already and have about 60 more to give away until July.

They say it's to increase the amount of rubbish recycled in the area. Don't make me laugh!

We're hardly being encouraged to recycle except on a very moderate scale. We mustn't overfill the blue paper bag, and we daren't buy anything that involves cardboard packaging, any extra left outside the orange bag won't get taken away; so we end up binning it - well not me obviously, but I know someone [without transport] who did just that last week after the recycling lorry left it behind. So council, do you want us to recycle or not?

There grumpy - job done ...

Langley Mill Railway Sidings ... part 2

2011-03-16T23:05:00.015Z

Any odd letters in the wrong place, please blame the cat. She shot across the keyboard [managing to hit the up arrow with every foot] as I was finishing Friday's bit, I've removed all I could find but I'm fed up of reading it now ...

Another exciting instalment of 'a week in the life of ...'

Monday from 6.48am:
It was just another routine day of noise. The huge clatter of the first scoop of muck dropped into each of the lorries, then the constant background noise of the digger rearranging the ever so slightly shrinking heaps ... we're beginning to wonder if it'll ever end.

.....

Tuesday 6.44am:
Yawn ... they're all turning up. 6.48am the digger starts ... he's becoming a right pain in the bum!

YAY! ... The bigger trees have arrived and are being planted. I decided to go and have a look at them, and whilst I was out in the dank, misty air I thought I might as well go the long way around [via Asda] to see how the petrol station is progressing - the lid is on, it shouldn't be too long before it opens - my grumpy old man went with me and of course I shoved my camera in my pocket.

We carried on along the front of the Acorn Centre, stopping off at one of the area's 5,000 odd charity shops [I like a bargain]. We then went up - the much drier and less puddly than when I was with the borrowed dog - Pottery Lane.

Where does the disgusting element of Langley Mill come from? Who breeds them? There's tat - including Netto rubbish - and dog crap [Ugh!] everywhere.

We finally arrived at mission control aka the portaloo by the gates onto the devastated railway sidings. There were two men chatting to the digger driver, one was the man overseeing the lorries - already questioned by grumpy - the other was a rg group man in charge of proceedings - also questioned by grumpy - [they were possibly all rg group].

'Hello' shouts my GOM. They shouted greetings back but the next bit got me totally wrong footed and all the questions I was going to ask were completely forgotten as my brain short circuited, fizzled out and I went into autopilot.

'Have you been filming me again today?' 'Am I on the Internet yet?' ...

This from the digger driver. I mean, I was incognito ... we went the long way around to get there ... I did my hair different! How the hell did he know who I was?

Of course I answered truthfully [bugger, I still can't lie even with the brain switched off] that yes I'd been filming him but he wasn't on the Internet yet, only the pillock on HH's back yard had reached there. My grumpy old man - bless him - shouted back 'Have a look on t'interweb at grumpy old woman Langley Mill'. I hissed at him to 'shurrup!'

We had a bit of a chat about what time they had to leave home to get there [4.55 one picks the other up] to be able to wake us before 7.00 every morning. Then the digger driver announced that:

He was going to phone his missus to tell her to have a look for him on the Internet.
He doesn't go shopping, not even got any teabags in [discussion on Asda proximity].
His mum cooks his dinners.

So here we have a married man with no food in the house who possibly lives with his mum [I may have been on autopilot but I still have an excellent memory for all kinds of flannel].

They told us that having already witnessed some tw***ish lads kicking the newly planted hedge, that they fully expected smashed digger windows when they arrived Monday. So apparently - yeah right - they were going to nip down with a box of chocolates on Friday so I'd keep my eye on it over the weekend.

Now before anyone thinks 'Ooooh, doesn't she think she's great? Expected to watch their equipment.' forget it, I'm well aware they were taking the wee wee. I'm just amazed they'd seen me and knew who I was, especially as this was the only time I went out while they were there ... so, not much point hiding behind a badger photo on my profile now is it? Except the badger is prettier [I'll say it before anyone else does].

.....

Wednesday ... later than normal [but not a lot]:
Oooooh, a big transporter has come for the digger. I spent ten minutes taking photos and waving good riddance to the noisy sod .... three minutes later it's backing up onto HH land in front of us ?????????????????

What's that doing there? No ... they wouldn't ... if he lowers his flaps it means he's dropping him back off! Down came the ramps *%*<^**!!

So now we have noise UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL!

Ooooooer, everything is shaking, the roller is well - rollering - straight across the road from us, I'm trying to work and I feel decidedly seasick!

Ahh, peace - at last ... but for how long? It looks like they've just made the HH land in front of us a bit less lumpy ready for some smelly tarmac to arrive. I will eventually upload photos and a little bit of film just for the digger driver - but I must, simply must get some work done ...

.....

Thursday:

Oh no! What's that now? ... Asphalt, surely they're not tarmacking HH today, I can't stand the smell ... and there's no escape as one of us was so nosy that they've got behind with their work ... didn't we?

Oh phew, it's not stopped, I forgot that everything big that's working on the petrol station turns up on Asda's back yard - possibly to wind me up, but more than likely just to turn around out of the way of traffic ... who knows?

My GOM went to the Post Office and had a look at the petrol station progress. Criky they have got a move on. As well as the canopy being finished - including the signs that say '24 hour petrol' - the pumps were being fitted and of course, ahem, the tarmac was being laid. We've been told it opens Friday 25th March, completely self service, pay at the pump with no kiosk.

.....

Friday Afternoon:

Hmm, what are Heanor Haulage [yes, them that sold up and left to make way for Asda] up to now? Over the last few days they've gradually brought - as far as I can see by balancing precariously on the bedroom windowsill [not nosy at all] - a minimum of fourteen flat-beds, some double-deckered on top of one another.

15.33 - I've finished work now and can be as nosy as I like:
Four more flat-beds have just noisily announced their arrival on the back. I won't be at all surprised if they eventually migrate over to the railway sidings. I could of course be completely wrong again, an unfortunate habit I've developed lately ... or they could be doing major work at their new place over the weekend [normal practice for HH] - but we'll see ...

McDonalds Not In Langley Mill

2011-03-16T21:14:00.004Z

I've just had a nosy at AVBC planning - to make sure I'm up to date with anything that is likely to make me grumpy - and noticed that the application for a fast food outlet ... a.k.a. McDonalds, on a former second hand car dealers ... a.k.a. CJ cars has been withdrawn. I wonder why ...

Update 1st June:
Plans for McDonalds were resubmitted yesterday

Langley Mill Railway Sidings

2011-03-08T18:52:00.008Z

Well, well, well ... another week of near constant noise.

I was going to wait until the end of the week to publish this post but I see a few people have been trying to find out what this week's noise is all about so I'll just add a bit each day and maybe save the grumpiest bits until last - here goes:

My Latest ~~Nosy~~ Noisy Diary:

.....

Monday:
The first thing I saw upon waking and looking through the bedroom window; was the portaloo stood standing all by itself on the old Asda/rg group construction car park. Then I realised that there were men milling around being relatively quiet ... it was still early - well, my early.

About 11.00-ish, I noticed that a huge digger had turned up, and blow me if the heap of scrap from Heanor Haulage went around to do a bit of shoving muck about - mostly toward the bridge from the rec and proceeded to pile it up along Pottery Lane fence, hmm more heaps.

My grumpy old man went to make enquiries as to what was happening and was told there would be lorries coming tomorrow, because apparently they've got to remove the 3ft deep 100's of yards long and about 50ft wide heap of waste - and they're going to plant trees along the edge ... I'm completely flabbergasted - what a huge surprise.

.....

Tuesday 7.04am:
Oh, chuffin heck, I'm bloody awake ... the second lorry was being filled. Yes I did say second, I'd managed to sleep through the first but my poor neighbour, ahem, didn't. 6.47am was the time they woke her.

After opening the blind in a disbelieving they-can't-really-be-working-this-early-the-stupid-tw*ts kind of way, I settled down with my mug of coffee and watched the proceedings with interest. I can say that at times it was extremely NOISY! This is because being men, they haven't yet learnt to stagger the work over a period. No, all ten or so lorries turned up to be filled at the same time.

They were gone for approximately an hour and a half. 'Oh, was it quiet then?' I hear you ask. NO IT BLOODY WASN'T!! The digger just kept rearranging the heaps until the lorries all returned. Oh yeah, and the Leedale Road sweeper was fannying about all day.

The tw*t that drives/owns the mobile scrap heap - that he [and others] spent a week tinkering with and revving up - has got a Mr HH mentality for playing with his toys because he spent the afternoon playing on HH's back yard just bleep-bloody-bleeping backwards, brrrm, brrrming forwards and bleep-bloody-bleeping backwards, over and over again. There were witnesses who can confirm that I threatened to go over and fill his tank with sugar during the night ... These totally bribe-able people have promised not to give me away.

.....

Wednesday 6.47am:
Oooooer - déjà vu, I opened the blind and peered bleerily through the window - five lorries waiting and one being filled.
About 9.00am, Heanor Haulage and NM Construction men turned up to erect a new fence alongside the biggest heap of muck ... why? Curiously the lorries go past this huge heap to remove all the other waste. Some more trees that were in the way of the HH fence erection were savagely hoiked up by the digger and branches of bigger trees got zzzzz'd off

The noise continued all day but as yet I can't tell any difference in the amount of muck, it still looks like there's tons of the stuff left - hmm, I wonder where it's going ...

.....

Thursday 6.50am:
Y-a-w-n, s-t-r-e-t-c-h ... All is quiet, where is everyone? Spoke too soon. There's the road sweeper taking a turn around the back of Asda - again and again. Apart from the two full KSD Recycled Aggregates lorries that presumably stayed overnight, there was no one else to be seen.

7.45 - Wagons roll! A Ward skip being delivered, then one straight after the other ... Bowring 1, John Wright [Ashfield Hauliers], Bowring 2, JC Balls & Sons - 1, 2 and 3 [yes, in that order].

They're a bit late. I presume that whoever had the keys to the gates at the top of the now PRIVATELY owned Wesley Street must have overslept - tut.

Anyway as the day progressed I noticed that the muck piles were going down - not necessarily away, mind you. The wind was blowing a fair amount over here [well, everywhere] - cough, cough.

Nice thought isn't it? All the waste dug out from Heanor Haulage - which incidentally was contaminated [according to the environment papers when Asda applied to build there. Oh yes, I do have a good memory for things I read ... such a shame]. First it was moved behind us, then dumped on the railway sidings, now it's being blown about whilst being rearranged by the digger - so it can waft through our windows and doors - before the lorries take it to [hopefully] its final resting place.

Can anyone tell me why the digger is parked on the biggest heap every night? Do they think someone is going to sneak in and pinch the muck while we all sleep? No - Oh I see, they're worried we might pinch the digger

.....

Friday 6.36am:

I'm getting tired of these early mornings now, I'm meant to be ASLEEP!!

Most of the usual tipper lorries turned up between 6.36 and 8.08. Grace Landscapes arrived at 8.40. No I'm still not being nosy, I'm just watching from my bed, it's the middle of my night!

Today I lost interest in the lorry activities and actually got some work done. Now Thursday was different, Thursday I could tell you exactly which lorry arrived and when it left, I was in nosy mode [actually I was trying to work out how much excavated waste was being shifted].

Grumpy had another sortie over to find out how much longer the job will take. He was told it should be finished by next Tuesday. The reason for the late start yesterday was the man with the keys was held up in traffic [accident during the night on M1].

There are four rows of mini trees [possibly hedgerow] planted along the edge of the railway sidings which leaves me to wonder what is going to happen to the bulk of the land.

Photos will be uploaded and possible overgrumpiness removed from this post when I get rid of my too-many-late-nights-and-ridiculously-early-mornings headache. In fact I may chop it into bits because it's getting t-o-o l-o-n-g ...

Heanor Haulage's New Fence

2011-03-05T16:00:00.004Z

Things started early on Monday as we were promised, any hopes of it being a one day job were quickly dashed when it took about three hours to put up one piece of fence. Yeah, we soon realised they were going to stretch this out the whole week.

There was a huge skip delivered, although I'm not sure what they put in it as they had a bonfire every day - cough cough.

Contrary to my predictions, they didn't use the recently repaired heap of scrap for the fence erecting, instead they used a mini-digger whatsit. It was just as bad as when Asda was being built, the noise just went on and on and on and on and on and on.

Friday evening we were completely worn down by the noise and fumes, I was feeling miserable and sick - by now there were two bonfires, fortunately most of the time the smoke was blowing away from us, but this didn't prevent the smell seeping in.

We don't know what they were burning - apart from the greenery they hoiked out, being in their way - but late in the afternoon they were producing acrid, black smoke [which I'm told was visible from Brinsley]. It smelt just like when I accidentally get my saucepan handles too close to the gas flame while cooking - yes, you're quite right, this is a rare event [I actually have to dust inside my oven] but my nose has a good memory.

Around 6.00pm the grumpy old man asked me what time the International Space Station [I've seen it three times this week] was due to pass over the fume ridden, dog-s**t hole that is Langley Mill, as he fancied his chances at seeing it - which were zero actually, as it was still too light and much too bloody smoggy!!

Anyway grumpy went on the street for a look - I mostly make do with looking through the window, having been accused of being a pervert by some mad bint on her way from Chavsda. Whilst out there, he was able to witness an irate gentleman [from over the recreation ground] stomping across to one of the Neanderthals stoking up a bonfire. I can only assume that he'd gone to complain about the fumes.

On his way back out he told my GOM that he'd been told to p**s off. And that he was going to phone the police ... which he did. Almost immediately two 15 year old's in police uniforms turned up and had a little chat - completely pointless, because Heanor Haulage have always done what they want, when they want, and nothing will ever change that. And this - we all suspect - is the real reason they didn't build their workshop here [so far] because there were too many restrictions imposed by the council, whereas now there are virtually none.

The skip and the rest of the dug out soil was collected this morning - another quiet start to our weekend. We're still a bit perplexed about this fence - seeing as HH has supposedly left, but my GOM has just been told [by a man who had already asked], that someone keeps breaking onto the land and pinching stuff??????? - What stuff? It's all scrap - apparently they know who it is but the police can't do anything about it.

Hmm, funnily enough, speaking of scrap, we've had scrap men here three times in the last two weeks asking if we wanted any scrap taking away [not exactly from around here as I was called 'love' and not 'duck']. I finally got fed up of the visits - where they actually seemed more interested in HH land while supposedly talking to me - and told them if I'd got any scrap I wouldn't GIVE it to them, I'd take it and SELL it myself as I'm not entirely stupid ...

Doggie Do's or Doggie Dont's

2011-02-27T12:28:00.004Z

As I've mentioned before, I rarely walk around Langley Mill because it's, well, frankly - horrible. But last week we went over the bridge to visit friends on Thompson Street and I lost count of the piles [and trodden in splats] of poo.

I have to say that I'm not entirely convinced that dog-poo bags are the good idea they're meant to be. Some people that use them are complete t**ts and need educating on what to do with them - yes, really - because on a mere five minute walk we counted seventeen full dog-poo bags strewn around the dog-s**t hole that is Langley Mill.

Yes, it's highly unglamorous, walking along, swinging a bag full of poo until you reach the dog-poo bins or home, but it's hardly an arduous task now is it? And let's face it, carrying a bag of poo can have positive advantages - no more lippy teenagers! No, it's nothing to do with the dog, trust me, she's not scary - it's the poo.

Hmmmm, yes ... can anyone tell me why it is that on becoming a born again dog walker, I also appointed myself 'dog-crap police'?

This morning I heard myself - while out with the borrowed, mobile, hairy sideboard - bellowing across Queen Street rec at a man who was clearly NOT going to clear up after his dog. Telling him that he was not a very responsible dog owner. Not quite satisfied with that - and battling really hard to keep my mouth shut - I was then to be heard asking him if he was going to clean up his dog's mess.

By now I was practically begging myself to shut-up because I don't do confrontation. He shouted back that he didn't know his dog had crapped [a lie as he was actually watching the dog at the time], he then pretended to try to find something to clean it up with - which he didn't, he just left it on the grass for children to walk in - Ugh, disgusting man.

The hound and I decided we'd had enough fresh - cough, cough - air by now, so we stuck up our noses, wiggled our bums, and full of self-righteous indignation made our way back home ...

Another Peaceful Week?

2011-02-26T14:38:00.045Z

Well we thought it was too good to last.

We're never really sure what Heanor Haulage are up to ... yes the same Heanor Haulage that, ahem, left Langley Mill for pastures new. The only thing we do know is they're bloody NOISY!!

Wednesday:
After stupidly mentioning to my grumpy old man that Heanor Haulage hadn't been here to annoy us so far this week [I need a zip for my mouth], they arrived to rearrange some crap. My GOM was told that this was so they could erect a new fence along the Pottery Lane side. Hmmm, so this is how you go on when you've left is it? Extending on one side and putting up new fencing on another.

RG Group has also been very much in evidence this week, some men in suits carrying folders and files, others were dressed for actual work. One gentleman took some photos of Asda's and HH's s**t heaps by the railway - a strange subject for photography, I thought I was the only one interested in the 3ft - 15ft high, hundreds of yards long [not in the mood to convert to metric] piles of rubble there.

Thursday:
A theodolite jobby appeared on top of the highest Asda/HH waste heap by the railway lines. Oh, do I keep repeating myself about the desolate wasteland created by ASDA and HEANOR HAULAGE? Well that's because it's still there and the trees plus any wildlife are still dead!

Friday:
Men arrived on HH's back yard and spent the entire day tweaking with a digger/shover whatsit, presumably to aid in the fence erecting. Another, newer, sprightlier JCB model was delivered in the morning and has been observed zipping from HH's back yard to the front. Meanwhile some RG Group men took down and moved HH's first fence you get to from Asda, The reason for this is - as yet - a mystery.

You may be able to tell that I'm in a bad mood, this is caused by the constant bleep-bloody-bleep of the newest toy, the many, many start-ups of the scrap metal being repaired on the back, the zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz bang, bang, bang of the fence being cut/dug out on front, with every likelihood that worse is yet to come.

Ohhh, chuffing heck! It's 3.30pm and after twiddling and revving from very, very early they've got that heap of scrap moving on the back yard. Evveeerrytthing iiis ssshhakkingggg aandd mmee pppotss arre ratttliing!

Saturday 8.10am:
Rattle, rattle, clank - Oh bo***oks, what now?! ... Heanor Haulage's gates were being unlocked.

8.15am:
Bleep bleep bleep - site man still incapable of driving forwards even though there's absolutely nothing in the way.

8.18:
Bang, bang, bleep, bleep as a generator is forcibly removed from the shiny new toy, across the footpath at slurry corner.

8.23am:
Brrrm, brrrm, whooooooooosh as the now much verbally abused [by at least my neighbour and I] man started cleaning slurry corner - that's it ... I'm UP!

Now it just so happens that I'm looking after my youngest sister's dog while they're on holiday, it's a dog I find easiest to describe as an extra piece of large furniture in every room as she always seems to be where I am. But having said that, having a dog is invaluable for nosiness.

There was much harnessing and saddling done and then I went for a walk with my hairy sideboard - armed with four mammoth sized poo-bags. Upon reaching the ramp I interrogated - in a nice way - the pillock who thought it was a good idea to annoy us.

Anyway, it turns out that the fence shifting was done to make sure a - presumably escaped and run amok - lamppost was on Asda land rather than HH's, I suggested that it was somewhat petty and trivial [I probably actually said 'that's a bit mardy' but it doesn't sound very professional], this was tacitly agreed with.

On my way back I told him it was a losing battle; cleaning slurry corner while ever HH were backward and forwards spreading their sludge. I also pointed out that before long someone would be killed on that stretch of footpath - there is a blind spot caused by the 9ft high fence - he agreed that it wasn't ideal and said that for safety the GATES SHOULD ALWAYS BE SHUT.

Shortly after this little chat, two skips arrived and much, much more noise was made as they were being filled with RG Group's left over crap from HH's land, during which I received an irate text from my neighbour who then went out to tell the aforementioned gentleman what she thought. He apologised and said he'd be as quick as possible and he very much wished that he was at home - we have that effect.

I must say he did a good job of clearing everywhere up, including the rubbish that had accumulated - courtesy of Asda's scummiest shoppers - under the bridge. But why oh why do they always make the LOUDEST noises at the weekends?

So, all that remains now; is for us to get through next week's Heanor Haulage fence erecting and we'll be back to peace and quiet - oh, hang on, was that a pig going past the bedroom window? Hmmm, no, I thought not ...

Heanor R.I.P.

2011-02-17T22:54:00.007Z

Be warned, I've got my bolshy look-I-told-you-so-and-therefore-am-likely-to-repeat-myself head on, if you want to read something cheerful then find something with a nicer title and don't bother reading this short [well it was meant to be] post.

I will just squeeze a few rumours in before we start as that cheers me up:

Heanor Tesco has been totally unaffected by Asda in Langley Mill.
Eastwood Morrisons has lost a lot of customers.
Asda is to lay off staff as they're not doing as well as expected.
Asda is setting on more staff to meet the demand.
Crumblies will have to pay half-fare on buses after April.
I've won the lottery.

At least one of those was a downright lie.

And does anyone know what's happening to our NETTO??

I was talking on MSN Messenger this afternoon with two friends [separately] and one told me that Heanor's Somerfield/Co-Op is to close on 16th April, I told the other friend, who said she'd heard it from her brother yesterday.

You have to ask yourself 'Did the Co-Op always intend to close?' Once they took over Somerfield, the retail space halved and the shelves were frequently empty of fresh food quite early in the day, as if they didn't really try or care.

So what's left in Heanor itself? Bookies, takeaways and charity shops just about sums up Heanor now. It looks like it's to become a ghost town as we all predicted when Asda decided to regenerate Langley Mill for us - with the best of intentions of course - I'll find the link to that particular post where I mentioned just such an eventuality in a minute ... phew, it took me ages to find it, don't I write a lot of crap? I eventually gave in and used the search term 'bookies' as I knew I'd mentioned it in roughly the same sentence, strange the things I remember.

Anyway, It's a shame that this is happening to Heanor. I moved there when I was 20 and it was a bustling, thriving market town and I instantly fell in love with the place [I moved around a lot as a small person], so it saddens me now to pass through [nothing to stop for] and see what it has become.

I still firmly blame Tesco [well I don't like Tesco] for starting Heanor's sad decline by building where they did. Then the other shops like Argos, Peacocks, Aldi and Poundstretcher following suit in a purpose built retail park across from them. I suppose it made economic sense for someone somewhere [probably the council] to build new shops and let the old buildings become second and third rate shops.

I suppose I can't blame Tesco for building where they did, but the town planners must have known the detrimental effect that it would have. There should have been some provision to ensure the future of Heanor. One easy thing for Tesco to have done from the beginning was to lay on a free bus to run every 10 minutes to and from the market place [calling at the retail park], that would have benefited the town centre and Tesco themselves, who could have bragged about how good they were - excellent publicity.

Why weren't any of these businesses at the retail park encouraged to move to Heanor's Market Place or Market Street in the first place? Perhaps it wasn't cost effective, but for the sake of the town it should have been made so. There were many rumours over the years about different stores opening in Heanor but nothing became of them.

I don't suppose Woolworths closing helped really [no matter how hard I try, I can't blame the council for that one] and maybe Heanor was doomed from then, because lets face it, once we're parked at Tesco or Heanor retail park - for free - we're not going to get back in the car, negotiate that crappy Tesco roundabout to go and pay to park on the market place, and we're all far too lazy - without Woolworths being where it was - [I include myself here], to walk up the hill from Tesco/Argos etc, to a town that no longer sells anything.

Eventually, as Heanor declines further, I predict that the shops will be made into flats for the scummy element to live for free, thus ensuring that no-one will venture anywhere near the town centre [I've seen this happen to two of the nicest streets in Skegness]. Hopefully this won't happen and instead they'll have nice roomy pads for crumblies to live in, because by then I'll be ready for crumbly accommodation.

And any council who keeps falling for big business bribes of - 'Ooooo, look what we'll do for you if you let us build a humungous blot on the landscape just there, oh and while we're at it we'll landscape this 2ft strip of unsightly land that'll be left over' ... roughly translated as 'When we've ripped all the indigenous trees up and destroyed any wildlife, we'll throw some soil at a teeny little bit of land and plant a few weedy specimens' - want their collective a**e kicking.

But do councils really have that much choice??? Big businesses and developers are so much more powerful and have so much more money than any council, that they almost always get their own way - by hook or by crook. Never mind that they're decimating the town and destroying the livelihoods of small businesses.

Yes, I know Heanor's demise was probably originally bought about by industry moving away from the area, but I like to blame those that really run the country ... high profile retailers and developers, who keep building out of town retail parks until the nearby town is so run down that they then move in with an offer of demolishing everything that had been worth hanging on to but is now too expensive to repair.

And they'll tell us - in jolly tones - how they'll regenerate the place by building yet another store with JOBS for local people!! Alongside yet more depressing little boxes for some poor buggers to live in - complete with their very own minuscule garden or more often than not, just a parking space. Thus covering everything with tarmac, brick and concrete, with no green bits left to suck up the water! Then they'll be scratching their heads and saying 'Well I wonder why it flooded there?'

Oh heck, I think I got a bit carried away there. Now, I've lost me thread again, I wish I'd write in straight lines, thank heaven for cut and paste, I write what I think, where I think it then have to rearrange my blog ... and then I have to tweak it because it doesn't flow or make much sense ... what do you mean it doesn't make sense anyway? These are the ramblings of a grumpy old woman, they're not meant to!

Right back to the subject in hand:

From the few places I've visited on day trips during our 'crumbly holidays', one thing is glaringly obvious, each and every town centre is virtually identical, the only shops left are the ones you see everywhere else. They're the only ones that can afford to be in a town, the little private home-grown business is all but dead, Unfortunately, apart from Woolworths, Heanor had none of these big name shops.

And, lets face it, just out of town retail parks are a canker that has been eating away at all but the most prosperous of towns, and Heanor, on it's hill that we're all too idle to climb didn't stand a chance ...

Langley Mill Post Office For Sale

2011-02-09T10:43:00.050Z

Now it's fairly well established that I'm nosy. So nosy in fact that by doing a bit of online searching [as you do] - whilst away on holiday from my beloved computer and laptop but armed with the MWg zinc ii and an intermittent reception - I found out that our post office is for sale for £250,000 [more recently reduced to £239,000 ... and again £215,000 ... a year later £175,000].

This should please a lot of people - well, everyone in Langley Mill that I know to be honest - because the people currently in the post office aren't exactly Mr and Mrs Popular [unlike the couple who run it when they're on holiday]. Of course, all the people I don't know in Langley Mill may have an entirely different opinion [this is allowed].

I haven't ventured in there myself since 2003, because I personally found them to be rude and patronising. I used to sell stuff on ebay, but gave it up simply because I couldn't face the 'well put it on there then!!!' when reaching out to put one of my parcels on the scales. Then being made to put on a load of stamps [which I licked, yes I know there's a wet sponge thing], while the queue behind me collectively sighed. After a few episodes of this licking and sticking he implied that the stamp gum was made from horse bits, this ensured that I turned a delicate shade of green - being a vegetarian - I vowed never to go back ... I haven't ... And I know I'm not alone.

I know this may seem a bit wussy and mardy of me, but I used to be very sensitive until I toughened up on attaining grumpy old woman status around the age of 48. Yeah, I don't believe me either, I'm still a wuss.

The grumpy old man however is completely oblivious to rudeness, he's the sort of person who announces [in the PO when being told what services they offer] that he won't pay his bills in there - thank you very much - because his pensions go straight into his [soon to be next door] bank account and he pays everything by direct debit including the TV licence. He is simply in there to post something ...

Petrol Station Progress

2011-01-27T17:05:00.005Z

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

2011-01-26T19:49:00.010Z

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

2011-01-22T17:44:00.004Z

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

2011-01-20T11:24:00.005Z

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

2011-01-18T17:54:00.003Z

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?

2011-01-17T17:11:00.004Z

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

2011-01-13T15:24:00.129Z

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!

2011-01-07T16:03:00.003Z

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

2011-01-01T18:08:00.003Z

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 ...

Check Your Receipt

2010-12-23T18:20:00.006Z

Now you may think I'm nit-picking with that new shop over t'way - trust me I'm not, I'm quite impressed so far - but if you don't already check your till receipts then I think you should certainly check the ones you get from there.

It may just be teething problems, but my neighbour has had to go back four times having been overcharged, usually on buy 2 for ** offers or 'rollback' prices. We've had three discrepancies so far, the last one being just 19p so I didn't send grumpy back. Although, thinking about it, if they overcharged everyone by just 19p they would soon be quids in.

Asda, I think you may soon need 'trolley police', this morning there was one of your trolleys the other side of Queen Street recreation ground near Argyle Street, and this afternoon while I was waving the GOM off on one of his 'Santa' trips, a woman went slithering and sliding up the ramp to Pottery Lane. She was met there by a man on a bicycle who promptly took the crappy Asda bags off her trolley and transferred them to his superior Tesco bags. He then rode off with the shopping abandoning the trolley for anyone to play with - I may have shouted abuse through the window about 'twats dumping trolleys' at this point ... well, I think it was me - I don't know where the trolley is now and I care even less.

Of course, my Asda trolley is parked neatly on our back yard, ready to go back tomorrow ...

Update:

We've just been overcharged yet again on New Years eve.

Apples on offer at £1 a bag, the GOM paid £1.27. Asda, your computer does not match your shelf pricing ... please FIX IT!!

The Christmas Dinner List

2010-12-17T15:10:00.006Z

We went to visit my mother at her care home the other teatime [just before I was treated to a night out by the grumpy old man], within seconds of walking into the room and her seeing who had just arrived to bore her now [father and sister already there], my mum promptly put down her sandwich, closed her eyes and fell asleep - I have this effect.

I'd barely dished out my Christmas cards when my sister handed me - no not a Christmas card, she is sticking to the 'no Christmas cards' rule suggested by me in one of my Scrooge moments last year - none other than a menu/list ...

'I've got fourteen for dinner, I've decided to delegate.' She announced, In essence this is a brilliant idea, there was the typed menu with names listed for who was in charge of preparing/cooking each item of food. I was down for carrots, sausage rolls, vol au vents and trifle [which is only carrots more than usual]. I noticed that my niece was down for crisps and nuts - very Denise Best [Royle Family].

My sister had wanted to cater for a large extended family Christmas even before they'd moved to their house just over a year ago. In fact the top of her list of requirements in her new-house-to-be, was a long room for the Christmas dinner table [yes I thought it was a bit 'Escape to the Country' where they always envisage Christmas with an open fire and huge alcove for the tree, blah blah]. Anyway, this didn't happen, she still ended up with two square-ish, albeit bigger and posher rooms.

The organiser of the event - aka my sister - informed us that the dining table is being moved into the lounge [supervised no doubt by said organiser]. If there isn't room for everyone [likely], the grumpy old man and myself - being the more peasanty relations - may end up sitting on a couple of beanbags in the garage, balancing a tray each on our knees [the garden furniture will already be in commission]. I may hold my carrots to ransom to prevent this.

'Do you want the carrots roasting? I'll do them with a smidgen of maple syrup, what about parsnips? ... oh Andrew's down for them oooh, also in maple syrup, great minds think alike' ... hang on a minute, where's your name? You're not down for anything!' ...

'Well I'm organising it all, I'll be there giving instructions, I can't be expected to do anything else'. This is the same sister who breaks up today for two weeks, the first week, ostensibly to 'organise Christmas'. Hmm, I'll let you know how it goes ...

Langley Mill Post office

2010-12-16T11:05:00.013Z

Post Office Opening Times:
Mon - Fri ... 09.00 - 17.30
Saturday ... 09.00 - 12.30

Address:
Unit 2
Asda
Wesley Street
Langley Mill
NG16 4ED

[My GOM has just been to ask at the PO for their address as people keep searching on here for it]

For anyone that doesn't know already, the new post office at Langley Mill is open ... yet another grand opening [if they had one] I wasn't asked to officiate at. I'm starting to feel just as unimportant as I actually am [ha ha].

Anyone hoping to go to the new post office or that big shop next-door-but-two to them via the top of Bridge Street should really try to find a different route unless they're wearing wellies. We came back from visiting friends over the bridge this morning and there was a sludgy pond at the bottom of the ramp yet again - ugh, wet feet - made worse by Heanor Haulage keep going over the footpath with muddy wheels whilst they go about their business of noisily clearing crap, erecting fencing and making bonfires.

And a big thanks for the latter, I thought it was snowing again until I noticed that some of it was going up, then realised that it was your bloody ash, so another day of no washing because I can't have the window open for the dryer hose ... you stink Heanor Haulage - but not quite as much as me because I've just been hanging out of the window taking photos of your bloody bonfire - oh bugger, more washing!!!

Where was I? cough, cough, wheeze. Oh yes ... If you do happen to carry on down Pottery lane expecting to go anywhere via Wesley Street, forget it because Asda seem to OWN this street and have fenced it off at the top [this was pointed out by the somewhat annoyed friends we visited]. Also we'd all like to know when the improvements to Pottery Lane - that we were promised by Asda at the earliest 'we want to build YOU a store at Langley Mill' meeting - are going to happen.

The grumpy old man has been out every night this week, he decided to treat me last night and took me [and my debit card] with him. Don't get too excited because his idea of taking me out was to go to Asda, last time he took me out for an evenings entertainment, we went to Tesco, the time before that - it was a bit special, being a Friday - was Ikea. Hmm, my cup runneth over ...

Let It Snow!

2010-12-02T19:11:00.072Z

Well, I can't honestly remember snow like this and I've been around - like, well - forever. On the other hand the grumpy old man can remember much worse snow, but as he says, they always seemed to do a better job of everything in the olden days, including the weather.

There has been a lot of pedestrian activity on Bridge Street with people walking to Asda - including me, I went yesterday for a bit of idle comfort food - frozen dumplings - and they'd run out. This meant that not only did I manage to spend over £30 and not get what I went for, but I also had to do dumplings the manual way by getting my fingers all sticky and floury - yeah, yeah I know I'm not meant to get gummed up to the eyebrows with suet, but this is me.

I might add that my home made dumplings were far better than the frozen variety - even with the addition of the pink work dye which no soap removes from my left hand in over a week, but amazingly suet does in seconds [note to self - wash hands in suet], so in future I will suffer the indignity of sticky hands [yuck] and use the old fashioned method of dumpling making ... or not.

The wheelie bins haven't been emptied, tut, you'd think they'd have struggled to get here to wake me up wouldn't you? I've since found out by doing a bit of light reading on t'interweb that we can put 3 extra bags of rubbish out with our bins next time but must still ensure the lids on the bins are closed ... wheelie. Oh well 'rules is rules' ...

Getting Excited!!

2010-11-24T13:38:00.002Z

Oh yes, I'm getting in the Christmas mood ... after the almost total lack of Christmas lights in Langley Mill last year, things are bound to improve this year.

Well, you only have to read about Asda in Langley Mill donating £2,000 to Nottinghamshire's Eastwood switch on - I have to keep reading it because Google kindly sends me alerts whenever 'Asda Langley Mill' is mentioned on t'interweb. Ahem, 4 out of 5 times it's me that mentioned it ... but I digress.

If Asda in Langley Mill, DERBYSHIRE [oh yes it is] was that generous to a nearby town in a different county, just imagine what our Christmas lights and switch on event will be like in Langley Mill itself - where Asda actually is.

Oh I can't wait ...

Mini-Toton At Langley Mill

2010-11-14T14:30:00.011Z

I know our sidings, complete with silver birches are on a much smaller scale than the ones at Toton. But when they bulldozed the trees there everyone seemed to be up in arms about it. Here it's gone relatively unnoticed and unremarked about [except by my friends, the grumpy old man and myself].

Am I to set up a one woman campaign by lying down in front of the bulldozer? I think not, I don't do mud and it's mostly too late. I wonder if anyone has asked the council if it's ok [for whoever now owns that bit of land] to do this tree felling? - by dumping Asda's excavated soil on it. Which is, incidentally [apart from the mountain], still about 2ft-3ft deep, although you can't tell from the photos. So there's still a lot more spreading/compacting/tree felling to do.

I know I used to walk my dog there - and lots of other people did too - until they put up a new fence and notices saying 'Private please keep out'.

At the risk of repeating myself - yet again ... What are the plans for these sidings? I don't know if I'm being thick or blind but I've seen nothing at AVBC except in the 'Scoping Survey Report' done for the Asda/Heanor Haulage plans, with the following quote ... 'The only area with ecological value was found in the area between the railway track and the perimeter wall of the industrial site ... This area is outside the site and walled off from the industrial area and not included in the development plan.

So what are they doing in it? ...

Peace And Quiet?

2010-11-11T11:17:00.001Z

People keep saying ... 'Oooh, I bet it's lovely and quiet now Asda is done' or words in a similar vein ... IS IT BO****KS!!! And to prevent any poor bugger who asks me yet again from getting their head bitten off, I will explain what life is like now Asda has left us in peace.

There is the constant bleep-bloody-bleep of the bulldozer flattening trees and spreading Asda's excavated muck by the railway lines. There's the noise from two lorries whizzing [one much faster than the other, this driver must be a certified lunatic] across the FOOTPATH at the top of Bridge Street, around the back of our houses onto Heanor Haulage land to fetch the aforementioned muck. Plus the digger filling the lorries.

Then there's the resident roadsweeper ... up and down, up and down the back of Asda to stop the muck getting beyond Wesley Street. Unfortunately this roadsweeper doesn't clean the quagmire at the bottom of the ramp or the bit of footpath that the lorries are churning up. May I remind them here AGAIN!!!!! That it's a public footpath they're crossing at speed - not a construction site with attendant security/watchman on duty!

Oddly enough - and I don't know why, maybe a bit of a dispute or strike - but yesterday morning was peaceful until 10.56am. The four men were standing around with hands in pockets or poking about among the scrap. Even the roadsweeper sat idly with his engine running for three hours of inactivity, until a car came racing around the back and they all dashed to their respective vehicles, whereupon work started [damn] ... Oh how I relish those three hours of peace.

And now I've discovered why everything sounds extra noisy even with the bedroom window shut. This morning my curtains were billowing wildly plus the wind chime was jingling and I thought ... 'Well that's a bit odd'. Hmm, not as odd as you'd think, there's a crack in the wall all around the window where the weather and the noise is coming through and the wall has just crumbled near the sill.

The blackout blind had already been put up by the grumpy old man, but that's driving me potty because the bottom is rattling against the window frame in the breeze.

This crack in the wall must have happened when RG Group broke up the concrete in front of us - they didn't use a pneumatic drill to break this thick concrete, they hit it repeatedly with a digger scoop for over an hour [August 13th] until my fillings were rattling in my head and the cat went into hiding.

Oh chuffing heck! Bits of the bloody roof are dropping off now with the first real wind of the season ...

Avoid The Path From Pottery Lane To Bridge Street

2010-11-10T13:52:00.010Z

If you're thinking of walking to that new shop in Langley Mill - or anywhere else for that matter - via the top of Bridge Street ... don't. When I took the above photo, a lady looked over and said that she'd better go a different way. It was a bit late for a lot of people, they'd already committed themselves with the end result being ... YUCK!

It's a disgusting muddy mess at the bottom of the ramp ... never mind the fact that you're likely to get killed by a lorry crossing the path every five minutes taking muck from Heanor Haulage to the old railway sidings to flatten the trees there.

You should see the state of MY trainers now and I didn't go quite as far as the ramp. Get our footpath and your act cleaned up please - whoever is responsible ...

I Love Tesco

2010-11-08T18:11:00.001Z

I was woken by my new favourite swearword [Asda] at 5.38 this morning by a delivery lorry - and this was with the window shut, I couldn't breathe, I'm all bunged up from lack of air - who cares? It just got worse and noisier as the day went on with the Asda muck-mountain being moved from behind us and over to the side of the railway.

Questions:

Who the hell decided that it would be a good idea to make the lorries sound like a cross between a constipated duck and an angry crow when they're reversing ... again and again and again?
Is the service yard big enough if they have to take 15 attempts to reverse in?
Wouldn't it have been better to have the service yard the other side of Asda?
I've read that Asda has got to offload 47 Netto stores [office of fair trading decision], Morrisons want some of them, but what about Langley Mill's Netto????
Why is Asda's money being spent on Aldercar recreation park and not Queen Street recreation ground? [or is that to happen later?]
Why am I in such a bad mood? ... Crushed Silver Birches, dead wildlife.
How come the rules for Heanor Haulage's workshop [had it been built] stated that they couldn't start work before 8.00am, yet Asda can wake me at 5.38am - they're lorries ... making noise ... chugging fumes.

We went to Argos for the blackout blind I've had to buy to block out Asda's security and loading dock lights [you owe me £12.99 Asda]. Seeing as we were already at Heanor we went to TESCO - bags of space ... loads of offers ... £10 off voucher [coupon, whatever] ... fast and friendly service ... a breeze to get around - well, it was bound to be really. Langley Mill was still full of people queuing to get into Asda's car park and bogging up the roundabout when we left ...

Asda At Langley Mill Is Open

2010-11-08T13:42:00.004Z

What a chaos! The traffic is as bad as it was with the traffic lights - during the roundabout construction - with cars backing up to Heanor and Eastwood. Mini-fights [well, severe finger wagging] in the car park when someone parks in someone else's space. There are community police down there, presumably to try to direct traffic and calm things down. Attendants trying to advise people where there's a space to park ... AND THERE ARE ASDA SHOPPERS PARKING ON BRIDGE STREET when we were promised they wouldn't need to.

Get a grip people, Asda will still be there tomorrow ... and the day after ...

A Blast From The Past And Wholesale Tree Destruction

2010-11-07T14:10:00.022Z

Well, if I thought I could have a nice peaceful birthday, I can think again. PMB Pallet Express were here all day clearing up the crap they left behind when the building was demolished around it - so ... brrrrm, brrrrm, clatter, clatter.

Funnily enough, I was only saying to the grumpy old man yesterday morning that I really miss them waking me up in the night [such a fib!], but it would take a long time to erase the memory of what they sounded like.

Moments later [literally] Mr Heanor Haulage arrived, closely followed by two PMB lorries. Mr HH says that next week we'll have the pleasure of listening to mountains of muck being shifted over to the railway lines to join the other mountains and are to be flattened, crushing yet more trees [not his exact words, but I'm sure it's what he meant].

According to the 'Ecological Appraisal' done at the time of Asda's and Heanor Haulage's proposals, 'the only area of any ecological value was along the railway track outside the development site, this area is walled off from the site and is not affected by the proposal'.

Should Asda really be chucking their building/demolition waste over the fence when they're trying to aid Langley Mill to become more environmentally friendly?

Anyway since the plans were passed the boundaries have become somewhat blurred - with the purchases of certain bits of railway land - so I think we can safely say goodbye to these areas of ecological value ...

Sold!! To The Highest Bidder

2010-11-06T18:11:00.003Z

Well, I've been sat here waiting to receive some juicy offers to plop through the letterbox from Asda - seeing as they open in less than two days. Nothing! Whereas my new favourite Store ... Tesco - actually, I hate Tesco but I have very low morals when it comes to bribery - have sent us each yet another batch of coupons to spend.

The grumpy old man flashed both our Tesco letters at me, then proceeded to open his and my mail - including one of my birthday cards ... and read it out to me - git [his excuse was that I was having a shower at the time].

But wait!! My GOM has since been out and just returned from Eastwood brandishing an Asda leaflet ... are there coupons within? Are there buggery. All Asda could manage - so far ... there's a little time yet ... Tesco can still be outbid ... I'm very bribe-able - was a store guide.

So, four more trips to Tesco to spend £60 to save £20 ... with a trolley each, plus pen and paper so as not to underspend [my calculator skills are crap, I kept adding things twice last time we went, until the GOM took over].

Am I shallow? You bet I am. I will of course waft through the doors of Asda on Monday night for a browse around - and to see how many times I can drop my Tesco coupon and announce loudly as I pick it up that we're just on our way to TESCO - I may get chucked out ...

The Eyesore

2010-11-03T18:30:00.035Z

I'm referring to the lamppost opposite - the top light on the post works OK but is no longer necessary as it was to light up the bridge steps, whereas the bottom one [in the photo] hasn't worked since E.on fiddled with it a year ago. Of course with Asda's ultra-bright security lights, everywhere is lit up. In fact we no longer need electricity in our bedroom but I really must invest in something to block out the light, I keep waking thinking it's time to get up!

Now that we're all smartened up with a wooden fence and plants - yes, maybe the houses do spoil Asda's view of Bridge Street, but tough, we're staying - this street light is an incongruous mess. It's mottled green, having been painted years ago by the Groundwork crew to match the mural on the side of the bridge steps.

The lamppost is actually on the road, not the pavement, so not the best place for it - no the road hasn't been widened before you ask, it was always on the road but now the bridge extension has gone, it's in the way. It's covered in electrical tie-wraps to keep essentials fastened on, rusted at the bottom, albeit not rusty enough to fall over when I witnessed someone leaning heavily against it [note to friend - push harder].

We contemplated bribing a nice man with his digger to knock it over by accident whilst he was removing the temporary ramp next to it, but tut, he was way beyond careful.

The planting is now complete right up to the fence, so there's no immediate need for me to go out armed with spade and my own trees - shame, I was looking forward to that.

I'm not even going to mention the mess that is 'security fenced' off at the top of the street - oh, what? I did mention it, well it was only a teeny weeny little gripe. We can see the security man's ~~kennel~~ little shed from here, ahh, bless, and lots of old PMB Pallet Express mess.

The detailed plans haven't gone in yet for the new housing on Heanor Haulage's land - I don't mean the outline plans that were passed at the same time as the Asda store - but as soon as they do I'll be having a nosy [and no doubt a little moan].

There's still quite a lot of HH's crap to be moved before anything much can be done. Every so often they come and rearrange the odd scrappy bit of metal with their crane and then re-park it behind our house, possibly to annoy me [so my neighbour thinks], but as I've not been at home most of the summer I'm pleased to say that this would have been a wasted exercise ...

Trees? ... Please

2010-10-28T16:40:00.002+01:00

Well, I waited and waited ... and waited with breath quite bated - ooh, I say, rhyming tripe - for the other trees to arrive across the road from us. There was a bare space at the back, room for lots of trees! Everywhere else had plants right up to the fence.

The gardeners were working further down the street - near our entrance to Asda - we noticed that the planting around there seemed a lot more dense [yes, this could have been an illusion caused by the angle I was observing from, but this is my diary and I'll moan if I want to], with nicer plants ... and more trees.

Wednesday morning:

7.15 - CRASH, CLATTER, RATTLE, RATTLE, flashing orange lights. 'What the chuffin heck are they doing now!?' ... Oh, my mistake, it wasn't RG Group on a mission to wake me up. It was the recycling lorry, which has been coming early since it could no longer get up the street at it's more normal we're-all-awake-and-I'll-just-dash-out-with-a-bit-more-recycling-if-you-don't-mind time. Bugger, I'm awake now, I may as well open the curtains and watch the trains and site workers arrive ... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

8.00 - I'm awake! I'm awake! Y-a-w-n, s-t-r-e-t-c-h, I really will open the curtains now. YIKES! Where's me nets when I need 'em? - actually I did try them back up but didn't like them. They're proper, heavy Nottingham lace and block out everything, which was fine when all we'd got for a view was a brick wall and a rusting mural on the side of the bridge steps - there were men, straight across from us taking down the temporary fence, I had to hide what was left of my dignity behind a curtain [yes, it is wide enough], somewhat sharpish.

8.20 - Knock at the door ... 'Can you move the cars please?' He meant, of course, the ones in ~~our private car park~~ the turning circle. I phoned one neighbour to tell her ... 'What, now? I'm not dressed, mutter, mutter...' The grumpy old man told our other neighbour - well, he told her son as she too was indisposed. They're an idle lot up here when the kids are off school ... I'm going to suffer for that comment aren't I neighbour?

Whilst the GOM was down the street after moving the car, he decided to ask the gardeners about our trees - or lack of ... 'Have you forgotten the trees at the top of the street?'
'There are no more trees'
'Are you sure? There's only a little one and we think there should be more, especially as they chopped a big one down from near there. That should really be replaced' [I have the evidence of this tree murder].

Upon grumpy's return I text my neighbour and relayed this latest annoyance, she was still outside having just moved her car so she asked the foreman - who was standing in the wrong place at just the wrong time - 'But there's space left for more trees ... leave it with me'. was his reply.

A little later, the bark arrived, don't they normally put that down after the planting? ... I wasn't to worry, I need to be more patient [I don't do patient, I'm getting old you know!!]. We were assured that the trees were coming but the bark had arrived and needed shifting straight away. OK, I'll wait ... and wait ... and wait.

Oh bugger this, I'm going across to plant my slightly dead Christmas tree and very much alive cherry tree if they don't bring us more trees soon. I'm also willing to go on a mission to dig up a couple of silver birches from nearby - seeing as they've already crushed countless trees with their big heaps next to the railway lines.

Thursday morning:

9.15 I SEE TREES!! Well, two more anyway. There is still a huge empty space at the back - hmm, I suppose it's somewhere for all the cats to have a wee. But, ho, hum, if it's not planted soon it may end up accommodating some unexpected flora ...

Tesco Generosity And A Conundrum

2010-10-25T13:55:00.006+01:00

Thanks Tesco for your very generous £10 off coupons, most people I know only got £6 off. Even better, you sent both the grumpy old man and myself the same letter, so two lots, unfortunately as I was in exile at Skegness with my cat for the last two months we missed the first week.

These coupons, ostensibly, are to celebrate the revamp of our local Tesco in Heanor ... nothing at all then to do with the fact that Asda in Langley Mill - with our own little path from Bridge Street - is nearly open ... No? OK. Well whatever the reason, thanks for these lovely coupons - ARE YOU TAKING NOTE ASDA??? I can be bought! - we'll be up to whizz around Tesco with a trolly and calculator each [well I don't want to accidentally spend £29.95 and himself £30.05].

Now Asda, you seem to have sparked a mini-debate amongst my friends on seasons. You advertise your Langley Mill store opening as the 'Winter Opening' on November 8th. I've asked one or two intelligent people who surprised me by agreeing with you, that November is indeed a winter month.

As far as I was aware - obviously making me less intelligent than I thought I was, but I can live with this ... just - November in England has always been firmly lodged in Autumn, at least it has in my lifetime. This is something I knew from an early age because I wanted my birthday to be in winter - I can't help it, I love snow and sparkly frost; even now - and I was told by someone nasty [my mother] that it wasn't.

As I grew up [a couple of years ago] I understood there to be two recognized dates for the start of winter here. There’s the astronomical start on the 21st/22nd December [the date I adhere to] and the meteorological start on the 1st December and now we have the Asda [or even Celtic] start to winter on 1st November.

Anyone who wants to join in this debate please feel free to leave a comment, I won't be at all offended by anyone disagreeing with me as my childhood wish of being a winter baby will be fulfilled.

Umm, Am I being boring? Yes, I thought so.

OK, back to the real world - there are now men high up on a 'cherry picker' sticking green 'ASDA' letters and a red blob with 24 hours cut out around the back of the building, I think there may probably be more of these cheapo signs to come. Presumably this is in case we're all unaware that Asda is there or maybe they're trying to attract passing custom as the trains go by, hmm, well it's a thought.

Soil is being turned over across the road as I type and there are lots of plants with a few diddy trees, apparently the larger specimens are due this week. I await their arrival with bated breath, you know I absolutely adore trees.

What the chuff is that!!?? It's 7.35pm and some pillocks are grinding/cutting something noisily with sparks flying everywhere, straight across from us on Heanor Haulages bit! Bog off back into Asda to do it. And why do the workmen do everything in reverse? Can't they drive their diggers/lorries etc forwards? It's bleep-bloody-bleep all the time - moan, whinge. And my front windows are FILTHY, it looks like they've had wet sand sprayed on them, I'll have to put my nets back up to hide the muck at this rate, which is not conducive to my nosiness - tut, I've only been back a day ...

And So It Continues

2010-10-17T21:58:00.002+01:00

RG Group say they're putting Bridge Street back to it's full width this week which will seem very odd after seven months, and they'll be removing the 'turning circle/private car park'.

They've been working constantly on the white box that is Langley Mill's Asda and its surroundings for what now seems like forever, including doing the smelly tarmacking today - Sunday! I can only assume this is RG Group's version of working on Bridge Street during 'off-peak' hours as they said they'd be doing in one of their letters. They also regard delivering concrete at 8.00am on a week day as 'off-peak' - how strange.

Really, the noise and disruption plus a total disregard for safety at times to Bridge Street residents has been horrendous just lately, I only hope it'll be worth it in the end because some of us are starting to get very fraught and close to the edge.

RG Group, in my opinion started quite well in the beginning when I gave them 'gold star' status because they really tried to be as considerate as possible - then they slipped progressively down my scale of excellence, passing through:

Noisy gits.
Pains in the arse.
Ignorant sods.

They now seem to be giving the impression that they'll soon be going so who cares. And where are our greenery and trees? They haven't arrived yet!!

Now ahem, we've heard a rumour that if you complain about the noise and muck etc. you'll be given vouchers to get your car cleaned. But it hardly seems fair that we should have to complain to receive anything from Asda or RG Group after all this constant disruption to our lives. Cleaning our windows a few times so we can see better what they're doing really isn't really much of a compensation even if I am nosy, now is it?

And seeing as I'm the shy retiring type who doesn't like to moan about anything [cough, splutter], I can't really see us complaining, can you? Even though they put the grumpy old man and myself through absolute hell when it was so earth shatteringly noisy and shaky they scared our cat into hiding where she was trapped for five days. Then we weren't allowed to look for her even though she was only a stone's throw away, resulting in me being forever branded a trespasser [oh yes, I'm a proper rebel I am].

Hmm, now where is that pile of letters with their phone number ...

New Housing On Cromford Road

2010-10-09T20:34:00.075+01:00

As per usual, I've been nosily looking at [AVBC] plans for our area just in case there's summat worth moaning about. I noticed one plan for up to 76 lodges plus two carp lakes behind Stoneyford Lodge, then I came across another that I thought had already been passed.

I soon realised it was yet another amendment [Variation of unilateral undertaking] to something no-one wanted in the first place. Oh yes, I can definitely feel a whinge coming on [of course in the meantime I've since read another interesting and far superior blog on the same subject but I won't let that put me off].

Over the last few years estates have sprouted up on all our green bits - the new housing on North Street is ok as it was mostly replacing Aristoc. But the estate at Langley really peeved me at the time as I then lived nearby - a bit of it was land previously owned by Heanor Haulage [yes, the same Heanor Haulage that sold the land for our new Asda in front of us], but the rest of it was fields. To be extra annoying they cut our road [Laceyfields Road] into four bits so the new estate had priority, oh yes, and they completely arsed up the bit of road near the school.

I can't really see how we can keep having more and more houses being built, but no new schools, doctors or amenities etc. to keep up with them. There are now no spaces between our towns and villages in the surrounding area - you can tell this while travelling as the speed limit is always 30mph meaning it's a built up area - making us one vast sprawl rather than the proper communities we used to be.

The Post Office already got rid of place names like Marlpool and Langley years ago, telling us that we lived in Heanor. It was like being told I'm British and not English so I was always one of those people that insisted on keeping Langley in my address whether the post office liked it or not. Gosh, I thought my grumpydom was more recent than that.

Anyway, where was I? Tut, this was only going to be two chuffing paragraphs when I started, I've got sidetracked again. Ah, yes, on to my newest moan:

Talk about cheap, nasty and GREEDY! Miller Homes who have already had their highly controversial plan passed for 109 houses - to be built on one of our few remaining green bits in Langley Mill - against our community's wishes, now want to renege on the deal with the council. Specifically, the amount of affordable ~~boxes~~ homes. They now want to build 6 instead of 30. They also want to reduce the ~~bribe~~ S106 monies agreed to. Presumably this poor company is now bleating about their profits not being big enough. Ahh, shame.

Well here's an interesting suggestion Miller Homes - bog off and build your houses elsewhere ...

Banking In Langley Mill?

2010-10-07T17:22:00.001+01:00

I have read that Santander would like to open a branch in one of Asda's units. I hope this gets approval because I happen to know some crumblies who have to go to Derby every time they want to do a bit of banking.

I also happen to know a much closer and grumpier crumbly who is sophisticated enough to do telephone banking with a couple of his accounts. This was a real treat when listening to the 'password' bit of the conversation:

'The third character, hmm ... is it *? Oh good.'
'The eighth one!! ... Er, I've only got five, are you sure I've got eight?'
'Can't you ask me the next question instead?'
'Can't you give me a clue?'
'Oh does *** come at the end?'
'Well it'll be *.'
'YES!!'

Shortly after witnessing this one sided conversation I upgraded him to online banking where I'm in control - with my moderately younger memory - of all the letters and numbers.

Oh bugger it! I've just tried to log onto his ******* account in a smug-show-offy-I-do-online-banking-you're-a-div-if-you-don't kind of way, and now I've remembered that last time I logged on, WE had to create another memorable bit after the password - yeah, I've forgotten it ...

More Heaps And Bleeps

2010-10-06T19:17:00.001+01:00

Ooooooh, it's getting exciting now! The hoarding has been coming down on Bridge Street the last couple of days, new fencing has gone up and there have been numerous deliveries of soil all day - very noisy with lorries bleep bleep bleeping! I suppose it couldn't be helped though and the drivers always gave way to residents wanting to get past.

I can't wait for my huge tree to arrive to block my view of everything [that was a dream I had - I can't help my dreams]. The landscaping should be properly under way soon, with lots of green stuff for us to look at instead of the truly awful view we had.

Well, it's beginning to look like the end of the disruption to Bridge Street residents is in sight and we'll be left in peace at last, I won't have anything left to moan about.

What's that you say? Asda will be open soon with people shopping and deliveries being made all hours of the day [tut]. Then of course [lucky us] we'll have the noise of all sixty new ~~peasant boxes~~ affordable houses being built behind us - hmm, we'll see ...

Stargazing And A Caravan Fire

2010-09-27T11:38:00.056+01:00

Just lately - now I've got a new super-zoom toy - another of my other gentle pastimes has has been rekindled, namely stargazing. Not the serious stuff, I'm not bright enough for that, but the easy to notice things like the phases of the moon and the planets that can be seen just by looking up.

To help with this I started following Jodrell Bank on Twitter, they tweet and re-tweet and I was lucky enough to have checked just at the right time on the MW zinc ii for us to dash out onto the veranda [no, we're not posh, we're just at the caravan], to spot the International Space Station passing over. I've since used the website heavens-above to follow the ISS and visible passing satellites.

I also downloaded a program called 'Stellarium', this shows all the stars and planets and where they are at any given time. You can fast forward and zoom in amongst other things, which was a great help for spotting the four largest moons of Jupiter through my telescope - 13 years old, in pristine condition, recently hoiked out of the cupboard it had been banished to shortly after purchase [a surprise Christmas present from the grumpy old man] and taken to the caravan where the lighting conditions are far better than at our winter abode.

Anyway, in-between taking photos of the squirrel, birds and some very obliging fungi [they tend not to dash off while I'm composing my shots] during the day and the badgers at night - although I've still not managed to get the elusive fox or owl to stand still long enough to have their pictures taken - I've taken some [not brilliant but wonderful for me] pictures of the moon and a few blobs of Jupiter and her largest moons.

I was tiptoeing the other night among the slugs to get a close up of the badger noshing on peanuts when he suddenly shot off [they can move fast] as he had been disturbed by a WHOOSH! He made a hasty retreat along the fence and into the dyke. The cat was in a state of panic too. We couldn't work out what would have made such a strange noise so late at night - most normal people [wimmin] were in bed snuggled up with their electric blankets while the others were watching football on the telly.

Then I spotted the flashing blue and red lights and smoke, oh heck, right where the gas tank is [or so I thought]. Yes one of the fire engines plus the ambulance were there but the fire was a caravan further down the site.

Of course, being nosy I went to investigate, well I was already dressed in my bright-cream-fleecy-stop-up-late-when-it's-cold-to-take-photos pyjamas over my normal flimsy bed attire. Some people gave me a bit of an odd look as they turned up to see what was happening, because there I was, armed with my camera. I explained that I'd been taking photos of the badger but I'm not sure if anyone believed me - our caravan neighbours are used to seeing me with my camera at night but I don't go far with it [not needing to] - they probably thought I was some sort of opportunistic ghoul who likes taking disaster photos.

We all stood around in the drizzle, comparing caravan insurance that we'd had to pay at the beginning of the month. And agreeing that we hoped it was a caravan that belonged to 'she who must be obeyed' - not out of spite, but if it was an owned caravan, then there's always personal stuff left inside, whereas if it's a site caravan, it's only fixtures and fittings.

We've since found out that someone was staying in the caravan but were out at the time and the fire was caused by an electrical fault - it was actually a bimbo's hairdryer with an intermittent fault, left plugged in - as you do [not]. What was left of the caravan has now been taken away to caravan heaven.

We've also all had to pay for an electrical check that we didn't need. But someone - in the right place at the right time has made vast amounts of dosh, charging £25 for approximately 8 minutes work, umpteen times over a few days [with a Leicester telephone number, so not local but cheaper than advertised onsite] - unfortunately, having retired the GOM is no longer certified to do any electrical work, even though he has the technology ... which I heard about, oooh, every time he saw another ~~victim~~ friend to ~~harass~~ tell his tale of woe to ... bless him.

Did I take any photos of the caravan on fire? Well of course I did, I couldn't miss an opportunity like that now could I? I'm as ghoulish as the next person ...

Name Confusion

2010-09-19T20:18:00.002+01:00

I was asked to print a copy of 'A Game Of Bowls' post for our next-door-but-one caravan neighbours, as they'd read Betty's copy and wanted their own - sad people. Anyway, I'm quite obliging and to save myself having to get the printer out again in the near future I decided to print a few of my posts - the ones that didn't involve Asda because no-one in their right mind wants to read my rants about them.

I saved them in 'Word' before printing as it was easier to get more tripe squeezed into one page. I noticed along the way that I hadn't gone back to remove all the offending ampersands [&] as I'd promised. I did a bit of that while I was copying and pasting so couldn't help reading a few of my own posts. Even I had a titter occasionally because I'd completely forgotten about at least half of them [just as well sometimes].

One in particular made me laugh when the grumpy old man had started calling me Judy. I reminded him of this last night and asked him if he could remember why he'd taken to calling me by a different name.

'Well,' he said. 'When you get a bit older, you start to forget names ... Anyway, you're nearly as bad as me - just look how often you call me Twat' ...