My election night.

It started five hours earlier than yours, that's pretty certain.

I ended my parents evening with two of my favourite parents, proper Norfolk folk, my own kind, simple, earthy, with big smiles and rough hands. They warned me about the outrageous and very scary fog creeping in over the fields. That was very nice of them.

They were nicer than the American parent who noticed my new tie filled with little donkeys.

"Democrat?"

After that he let his agreeable and not uneasy on the eyes wife do the talking while he looked through his daughter's books.

The fog was indeed outrageous and scary and it took me ages to drive home. I would have got home sooner but at the Hackford turn I got stuck behind somebody doing 12 (TWELVE) mph. The fog was bad but for f**** sake! This is Norfolk! LEARN TO EFFING WELL DRIVE DOWN TWISTY AND SHIT SCARY COUNTRY LANES IN FOG WHAT YOU CAN'T SEE YOUR WINDSCREEN WIPERS IN!! IT'S WHY YOU HAVE HEADLIGHTS!!

The fog seemed to bring out the crowds when it came to the chip shop. When I walked in there were 7 men and a lady waiting in silence. The boy Kenny sorted us all out pretty quickly. When the lady left all the men started chatting, the boy kenny asked me to add up some prices "Come on, you teach maths dontcha?"

Frau Random Doubt had gone to her American chum's house for an election drinkette and girly gossip so I popped into the off licence and the chip shop before getting home to release the babysitter (my mum).


I'm tempted to rise at 4am and follow events. I'm that excited.

Intensity and the prospect of victory.

It's going to be an unbelievable week, which ever way things turn out on Tuesday.

Due to the time difference I will find out the results as I rise on Wednesday morning. It's Sunday evening now, I've been on the go all day taking the toddler out to the beach and to lunch with grandparents and then noticing that toddler isn't himself (he's never not himself, this kid is a pro, he's the hardest working toddler in the business, which throws us through a big fiery loop when he's not himself.) We've put him to bed with some medicine, a lullaby and some hope.

Then it was the turn of the kitchen, long forgotten as we've eaten out and done other fun things these past few days as it's been half term which brings me onto getting my shit together for a big week back at school after a week off which coincides with the election which turns my political junkie head and reminds me that I must read the paper which is still in it's plastic bag since i bought it at 10am.

That's why there probably won't be an incisive post anytime soon about the election (because there have been so many up to now? Right?) You all know where I stand and will have a very good idea about how I will be feeling on Wednesday morning.

I'm going to sit down and read the paper.

Have a good week (as long as you're a Democrat, if any republicans read this, I hope your week sucks.)

Needle in a haystack

There are over 2000 National Express buses in the UK.
Frau Random Doubt travelled on one to Heathrow Airport last Thursday.

She lost her phone.

It slipped down the side of the seat, or something like that.

I got a call from a payphone in the airport when she told me that, oh bugger, she'd lost her phone.

I called her phone company, got a lock put on the phone, called the bus company, asked them about it. They had me ring round the airport garages.

Oh joy.

Everyone was helpful, The woman from Stansted airport told me that they get lots of lost property every day so it might turn up, then again. The woman from Gatwick airport told me not to hold out too much hope. The woman from Heathrow airport told me to call again on Monday but, to be honest, I'm thinking that we'll not be seeing that phone again.

Modern life is rubbish isn't it?

On Monday I'll give up hope and call the phone company again and deal with the fact that I'll have to shell out for a new phone.

Bleugh.

Then today I got a text message. I was in Starbucks with the wee hen attempting to juggle toddler and mocha when one of Frau Random Doubts mummy chums asked me if she had lost a phone on a National Express bus? She had been phoned by a driver who wanted to return the phone.

Really?

Great!

I called a fella called Matt who spoke to a bloke called Steve and I'm meeting the bus tomorrow when it pulls into Hometown. then a geezer called Ian, the driver, wil return FRD's phone.

It's not that amazing but it's a lovely reminder that people are more often good and straightforward and helpful than not.

Radiators

The trouble with talking about our new central heating system is that people misunderstand me. They think it's a replacement for the 'old' central heating system.
No, It's a new one which replaces the aged gas wall units we had, until today, heated our home with.

To be without central heating in 2008 is a bit like being without a telly or a phone.

People are shocked and bewildered.

We are warm and happy.

My journey home.

I was placing my phone on the dashboard after calling Frau Random Doubt to see if we needed any potatoes or some such menial domestic errand and the damn thing went click.

This is the result.

The road between work and hometown on a Friday afternoon.

And before I get all the road safety calls I was using a hands free headset thingy and was within the speed limit/sobre/obeying the two second rule etc etc....

Object of desire

Once we return to blighty, away from all this godawful rain, I want one of these. It's a Bakfiets. that's Dutch for "amazin set of wheels".

Random roundup

The home computer (does anyone use that term anymore?) broke down last week. We had a nice time thinking about googling things and then realising that we couldont. I learned how to text message. Henry is huge and I am now back at work.

My street.

Once the home of the mafia, now a strict observer of alternate side parking regulations.

The beginning of the end.

And so, as spring comes in with a whimper or whatever it is folk say, we begin our slow descent into London, Heathrow, England, Norfolk. Rural strangeness, financial obscurity, solid breakfasts and mud.

A few pointers have recently pointed towards the reality of our move.

We are seeking a home for our elderly and misanthropic cat. We would love to take her with us but it's just not practical. We would spend $$$$ to get her injected and certified and more $$$$ for a place in the plane knowing that for all intents and purposes she could die in a week. She could also live for another 5 years. Bloody cats, there's just no knowing. And before you all kick me over this one, we are all about being romantic and allowing her to live out her remaining days in the beautiful Norfolk countryside but it's cruel and simple math. She comes with us or we buy a dishwasher and a new fridge at the other end.



We have also just cancelled two long standing and much appreciated subscriptions.

Our weekend delivery of the New York Times. Since Henry was born we have simply moved the paper from 'gonna read' pile next to the sofa to'recycle' pile by the door. Neither of us has had the time or inclination to do anything more than glance at the magazine section over a bowl of cereal. Don't worry New York Times. We'll buy you when we need you on an Ad Hoc basis fom now on.



As well as the Times we have had to say adieu to our old friend Netflix. It's been a wonderful ride since a hip cousin gave us a month's subscription for a Christmas gift a few years ago when it was all shiny and new. He let the month lapse on his credit card and I had to meet him for lunch with a check for the rest of the year. That was in August. We've loved the endless episodes of The West Wing and Frau random Doubt particularly enjoyed watching every episode of Upstairs Downstairs. It was also a useful way of catching up with some of the wierdness that is Listmaker's annual movie list. Today it's the same problem as the Times. The discs have sat there since Henry was born and we watch very little TV beyond The Daily Show and a few assorted dvr'd treats. We haven't been able to settle down and watch a movie or devote ourselves to something whilst also allowing for inconsistent fatigue and Lil'un's demands. I watched a movie on the plane last week and had kinda forgotten what to do.

It's not all bad, we have become whizzes at dvr'ing lots of shows and have got into some pretty good stuff through that.



I should add that I find the value of an organisation in the ease of leaving it. When calling or emailing both the New York Times and Netflix I was met with brevity and understanding. No harrassing me with special offers (although Netflix did ask me if I was going over to Blockbuster and I'm not and I don't mind them asking). As a result of their very grown up approach I would heartily recommend either to anyone.

Extras

I've been making the mistake of trying to watch Extras whilst comforting the boy Henry.
Trouble is, he keeps getting woken up by me laughing at Stephen Merchant.

Thank you.

I (we) just want to thank all of you who sent good wishes, vibes, cards, emails, food etc.
We are a touch overwhelmed right now as we settle into this parenting malarkey.
Henry is an absolute delight and actually had a fairly successful night, he only kept one of us up for most of it. My turn tonight I guess.
You can follow his progress on his own blog across the way.
These few things I have learned so far.

Never investigate a diaper unless the kid draws your attention to it.

It's fantastic having friends in the restaurant business. "Oh? herb encrusted organic pork loin in a rosemary and garlic vegetable stew? No thanks, we'd rather eat cold toast".

There is a wealth of great TV during the early hours.

Elderly cats and newborn humans can coexist in peace, you just need to explain this to the cat, she now views herself as some type of maiden aunt. She can sometimes be found peering at him as he feeds.

But mostly thanks to you lot for your support and to Henry for being so well behaved (so far) and to Mommy for doing all the work (I would but, well, you know)

Law and Order

This morning as I was attempting to fix a car seat in the back of the car I noticed a police van and several SUVs outside the next door building. I half expected to see a film crew and Ice T shooting a scene from everyone's favourite crime show.
Then I saw a cop in full body armor with a shield and a machine gun!
This was the real thing!!

Gentrification take a back seat!!

When I later strolled past on my way to get a cup of coffee I saw the cops muttering about how the "Staten Island team had got him and this one says she hadn't seen him in weeks". Then they got back in their vehicles and tootled off, no doubt looking for bagels and coffee.

Later on I noticed the young ner'do well who lives in the building clearing out with a couple of very large bags and looking kind of 'nipped'.

All quite fascinating street theater on the very day we brought young Henry home.

Cleaning House

Is it wise to get into Deadwood just minutes before becoming a parent?
Will the increased use of the expression "C*cks*cker!!" have a positive influence upon the development of our unborn child?

No news yet.

I'm no Unwellness., I don't regale the blog world with the intimate details about my personal health and wellbeing.
However, regular readers of this blog will be aware that Frau Random Doubt is about to give birth. By this I mean that we are waiting for something to happen. Right here, right now.
The Doctor told us to wait another week and then we'll "review things" That means induction. Fine, whatever.
For now The missus and I have been loving the lie ins, the peace and calm and the eating out. The eating out in almost any half decent place we pass on our strolls through the neighborhood. The eating out, the strolls and the afternoon, early evening trips to the movie theater.
in short we have been enjoying life to the limit, as much to the limit as a 9 month pregnant lady can.

All this has been done with a wonderful sense of "why not?"

This cannot last.

You will be informed.

New Year's Eve.

Much of the night was spent marvelling at how grown up we had all become and how pregnant some of us had become. Yabs checks out the rules and Nabdor looks on.


The scary guest of honour. Waitrose Christmas pudding. After lighting it with hot brandy we all sort of stood and stared. I because I've been there before and have no desire to go back, them because of my reaction.




The rest of the evening was good food and conversation, and then the grimacing at Dick Clark.

Just because we got home at 12.30 and went straight to bed doesn't mean 'the hood' slept. Fireworks, noise and shouts of happy fuckin new year!!! abounded until the rain at 3am.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year

Hapy New Year everyone!
Here at Mondale Towers we await the arrival of a new Mondale. Nothing yet!
We spend our days taking strolls and eating fine lunches in our favourite places. Everything we won't be able to do in a week or two!

update

Bought a red bugaboo frog.The chameleon was too big and made out of a nasty fleecy material, I wanted canvas. Canvas rocks. Red means no green but hey, what can you do? The salesman at Buy Buy Baby on 7th ave was very talented and won me over. I liked that when we decided on a frog some of his coworkers came over and gave him high fives and said things like "dude! another frog!". It's like he's the champion bugaboo salesman. His name is Jamie. He rocks.

Got rid of two nasty old chairs, sidewalk style.

Second weekend of serious nesting, revolutionised the apt.

Just ready to meet 'lil'un'.

Frau Random Doubt has shown interest in another cool name for a male child. This came about after I recounted a highly amusing story concerning a child of that name. I asked him what I should call my child were it to be a male child. His instant response was "my name". This made her laugh.

Crate and Barrel

Due to circumstances involving the winter party, my boss, some coworkers, a pulled pork sandwich, several (read many) pints of Brooklyn lager and a magical late night cab ride I spent last night on the couch in the living room.
Imagine my astonishment when the phone rang at 6.15 am. I thought the worst (well one does when the phone rings at odd hours) I thought family disaster, Trafford has died, something like that.

No.

It was Crate and Barrel calling to confirm a 7am delivery of our new sofa.

fan-bloomin-tastic.

Up I got, scrubbed and scrubbed some more and within half an hour two marvellous gentlemen had presented us with a shiny new chocolate colored sofa and storage ottoman!

I'm thinking of calling the lil'un "crateunbarrel".

Right, now it's silent reading all day.

sofa of my lethargy.

Ah, the old sofa*, the trusty old family, post college sofa. Handed down from generation to needy generation until you are grown up enough to be able to afford your own furniture. This sofa was one of those "I don't know how they got it in (broken walls and light fittings actually) but I sure as hell have some good ideas about getting it out! Today is the day of your destruction!


Kitten puts up a bit of suffragette style protest, as I began to cut through the fabric to locate the wooden slats she refused to get off the aging couch.
Der Vetter Kevin, sleep deprived following the arrival of wee Emerson gets handy with a circular saw. I was a bit disconcerted when I thought I saw him begin to doze off mid destruction.

The tattered remains of many a night of drunken slumber, of pints of Ben n'Jerrys, of Law and Order marathons.

At last, out on the street, Brooklyn style.

*The nasty Tex-mex pattern was long ago covered by a much more tasteful suede cover.

Random musings are often irrelevant, sometimes just stupid.

There's not been an huge ammount of excitement here at Mondale Towers. Listening to Johnny Cash, hoping the unseasonably warm weather will chill out (in all sense of the word) and looking forward to a bunch of beers with coworkers after school.In fact that's really what I'm doing right now, just killing time untill the beer begins to flow.





Who doesn't love pictures of Kitten?

She's really not half as grumpy as she looks.