The Day I Tied The Knot ... Literally

Yes, this is my chunky little thigh, the stockings went all the way up!

Well, we did it ... At last!

After almost a mere thirteen years of living together, I've finally made an honest man of my grumpy old man.

Of course the date 10.11.12 was significant to me because I've got a 'thing' about numbers. If my family hadn't insisted they were coming - whether I liked it or not - I'd have picked 12.12.12 (a Wednesday). This would have made it awkward for them as they'd all need a day off work ... I am soooooo considerate.

It would also have meant I'd probably have lost the services of our wonderful photographer ... I say wonderful, I haven't seen any photos yet and if he hasn't airbrushed at least 2" off my curves, and removed my remaining extra chin, then I'm not paying him! ... Hmmm, I'd better hope he doesn't see this or he may harbour bizarre notions about actually getting paid.

Right now for a recap on my The Nightmares Have Begun post:

1. We were early and there were plenty of parking spaces.
2. We didn't forget the rings although grumpy had to search frantically through his pockets until I told him which one they were in.
3. We remembered to take our choice of words.
4. He took the cheque - boy am I cheap, is that all I cost!?
5. We still went ahead with the music - Annie's Song by John Denver - that we'd chosen, even though talktalk had recently nicked it for an advert - grrrr.
6. The speakers on the CD player were fine and didn't require hitting with a big stick (I omitted that bit last time didn't I?)
7. Yippee it didn't rain - although the Radley umbrella I bought just in case the skies weren't smiling on us, arrived with a bent and broken handle - so the delicious shade of orange I had about my person, didn't dribble all over Ripley Market place.
8. My stay up stockings stayed all the way up and didn't budge. The same can't be said for my garter, it was silky ribbon on silky stocking, it travelled south frequently.
9. My dress didn't split.
10. No beads fell off it.
11. It fitted perfect with plenty of breathing room by the 4th November, talk about cutting it fine! So although I'd bought a little ivory lacy number as a backup (took the pressure off me) I got to wear the dress I'd bought all those years ago especially for the event.
12. No idea what my make-up looked like, I was hampered by suddenly finding I couldn't see to do it without the glasses that would be covering most of it anyway ... I may have looked a bit panto dame for all I know. The hair ... well that deserves its own paragraph.
13. My bouquet was wearing so much hot glue, it wouldn't dare fall apart (I may do a post about the making of the bouquet and buttonholes in the near future).
14. I didn't lose it or my engagement ring.
15. Even though I'd already done my hair I still had to fasten grumpy's tie around my neck and take it over my head ... hair ... and sparkly fascinator jobby ... for him to then put over his bonce, oddly he struggled, he must have a really big head.

The hair ... well I had to have nail extensions seeing as I'd broken four nails in the last few days before the wedding. These were a jolly good idea and a treat from my youngest sister and niece. What was NOT a good idea for someone who does creative things with their own hair, was having a nail charm on the wedding ring finger.

The ever so charming nail charm ... and still going strong

As fast as I was plaiting/weaving (whatever) my hair, this charm was undoing it. Something I'd previously got down to one attempt, taking a maximum eight minutes now took five attempts (from the left side) and half an hour! It was fortunate that Asda woke me up so early.

I suggested to grumpy - and this is a polite way of putting it - that he went back to bed while I was - literally - tearing my hair out, this is because he was hovering behind me and sighing ... and it was getting right on me nerves, I was fffffizzzzing with expletives. I got on so much better after I plonked down the mirror I should never have attempted to use in the first place - you need not to see what you're doing and just feel your way - on the other side of the room.

.....

The registrar who married us was lovely, he put grumpy at ease lest he should muddle the order of his lines (I am ... I will ... I do ... and not necessarily in that order).

Me? ... not a nerve in sight, I'd used 'em all up on the hair!
 

When he asked the bit about anyone knowing any reason why we couldn't legally marry blah blah blah, my (18 months old) great niece who had already eaten half of her flower girl wand/posy doodah, decided this was a good time to ramp up her volume and tell us all what she thought ... Oh dear. He said he wouldn't take that as a response, cleared his throat and tried to drown her out ... wasn't happening! She just went a notch louder.

The beads that didn't drop off or indeed flirt in anyone's eye

We had a really wonderful day - that we'll treasure for always - with our friends and my/our family ... my lot have long since adopted grumpy. My niece did an impromptu little speech where she said that she'd have liked to welcome him to the family but he was already well cemented in.

I'd like to thank everyone who joined us for making it a really happy event. And the same thanks to those who couldn't come but wished us well anyway - my neighbour fell in the latter category but she was with us in spirit and the item I borrowed was her hanky - and more importantly ... many thanks to them all for being happy for us.

I'd just like to finish with this little observation. Contrary to popular belief that having lived together for so long - not to mention the few years seeing each other before living ovver t'brush - that everything would be just the same ... this isn't so. It's totally weird and unexpected - but for both of us, it feels like starting out anew - and we're loving it!! ...

A Crumbly Day Out And a Grumpy Old Man-nerism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A 'bit' Carried Away

I’m known amongst my contempories as someone who loves computers, almost enough to qualify as a geek [not quite though as I’m far too old and completely the wrong sex], I’ve tinkered inside them, adding bits, cleaning bits, rearranging bits [while suitably earthed against static].

I’ve found that I talk a completely different language from most of my friends, I try not to but I can’t help it. Although I now use the proper and correct terminology [according to them] of ‘bottom bit’, ‘little green man’, ‘orange envelope’ etc.
There are times when I get glazed expressions directly after I’ve said ‘right click’, 'hover' or ‘taskbar’, even ‘desktop’ is foreign to one or two of them.

I still have to remember how three systems differ while giving ‘right click’ instructions over the phone or via Windows Live Messenger. We have thankfully, recently managed to drop Millennium Edition so I’ve deleted that from my hard drive forgotten the settings for it. But someone I know - of advanced years [by computer standards] - has jumped straight in at Windows 7, and now I’ve discovered that it’s no use saying ‘click on the little green man at the bottom right’, when explaining how to find out when her contacts are online. Windows 7 has stupidly ‘pinned’ stuff to ‘the bottom bit’ aka the taskbar [not on mine though as I've beaten it into submission and got my familiar quicklaunch back - yes I know it's a backwards step but I'm getting old, we don't like change].

Of course, all this time I've been thinking that I'm perfectly normal and it's all the others that are at odds with the world ... until now that is. Yes, I've discovered that it’s me that’s out of sync and not them, because the other day when my beautiful marquise cut champagne diamond ring was being admired I heard myself proudly announcing - somewhat breathlessly ... ‘Aren't I lucky? It's a whole MEGABYTE!’ …

A Googling Nightmare

Well the crumbliest among us has been updated [upgraded - I know!] with an XP laptop with wifi - Oh dear.

The first thing I did when summoned, was to sort her an hotmail address to use on Windows Live Messenger as she wanted to 'talk' to me while I was away. I gave her strict instructions to learn how to use this first, plus a little light searching - nothing more. I didn't want her trying to learn too much at once; being overwhelmed, failing to grasp it and giving up. This may sound patronising, I don't mean to be, but I know from helping others that the older you are, the harder it is to take in. I also told her to keep a notebook handy to jot down things she wasn't sure of so she could ask someone later.

'How do I ask for Google?'
'You've got Google there' I answered, pointing to it.
'Do I type Google in there?'
No, it - is - a - Google - search - bar.'
'So and so types Google in there and she gets Google.'
'Well you don't need to.'
'So what do I type in there then?'
'You just type in whatever you want to know.'
'Well, really ... I want Google.'
*@%#!

This would try the patience of a Saint and I'm no Saint.

The other day - via texts and messenger:-

'I tried to sign in to Google Facebook and Yahoo Facebook.'
'What?'
'Neither worked.'
'What?'
'I asked Google for Facebook, tried to sign in, it didn't work so I asked Google for Yahoo, then Yahoo for Facebook and tried to sign in there.'
'Why?'
'Well so and so does it if Google can't find what she wants.'
'Google will find Facebook, Yahoo will find Facebook, you don't need to ask one to ask the other where chuffing Facebook is!'
'Oh.'
'You haven't got a facebook account.'
'Well I put all my details in, my name and school.'
'Did you use your email address?'
'Is hotmail.co.uk my email?'
'No that's just the end of it.'
'And ******-******* is my name on the Internet.'
'No, that's the beginning of your email.'
'Do I need a password?'
'Look I'll sign you up to facebook and send you the details to log in.'

I did the deed.

'Why that password? Can't I have ********?'
'You can change it once you've logged in, I'm not a mind reader, I had to pick summat!!'

I was a bit short with her as we'd already had words about an email address she'd sent me by text - which she knew she'd done right because so and so said so. Yes the address was right including the underscore but she's a demon for full stops and no spaces so I - completely forgetting this foible, put a name and a dot more in the address than I should and ended up with an 'undelivered' notification.

Text received that evening:-

'My family think I'm doing great on the Internet, they also think I need showing only a bit at a time. And they never thought to see me on Facebook. I feel quite chuffed with myself.'

Oh dear, oh dear ...

Windows Update For Crumblies?

I have tried to drag my older friends into the 21st century - I have had only moderate success.
A couple of them are resolutely holding out regards even trying to use a computer as they firmly believe that texting is technologically advanced enough for them.

And over in the other camp of happy button pushing crumblies, we have one or two 'moments'. Very recently I received a phone call from one of them -

'I've switched my machine on but something's not right.'
'OK, what's the problem?'
'Well I can see the Kewlbox games but not Real Arcade.'
'It should be on the quick launch at the left of your taskbar'
'What?'
'The bar at the bottom of the desktop' ... 'On the monitor' I quickly added, realising she could well be looking on her desk.
'I haven't got one. You know, I thought something was missing.'
'Oh right, Windows hasn't loaded properly. OK, press the start button on your keyboard, it'll say start or have a picture like a window.'
'Keyboard?'
'Take - the - cover - off - your - keyboard.'

I talked her through turning it off rather than doing a restart because she's using Millennium Edition and the menu is slightly more archaic than its successors, I knew she'd be phoning me again later to tell me that she was going round in circles and couldn't switch off with just one restart.

'Right turn it back on'
'The button on the big box?'
'That IS your computer ... yes!' through gritted teeth.

She got it back on - with the taskbar. I talked her through making a shortcut and drop it on the desktop - and how to delete the half dozen extra ones she made. I had to go and lie down after that, I find it very stressful trying to remember ME for one friend, XP for another when I'm firmly in the Vista camp with the others.

I am currently trying to get the ME user to upgrade, especially as she has bizarre notions of going on the Internet - can you imagine the fun I'll have teaching her that when after only 5 years she still has to look for her start button ...