NotJustAHatStand

Thanks for all your comments on my last post. We only got back earlier this evening (so I'm still to catch up on all your blogs) but I had a lovely holiday, and a fab birthday on Tuesday. To celebrate my being one step closer to thirty* we went to the Three Chimneys for lunch, which was A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

*I didn't think turning 27 was necessarily something to celebrate but I wasn't given a choice in the matter.

To start I had breast of wood pigeon with crispy tattie scones, and a port and red lentil gravy. Then for my main course I had grilled loin of lamb with spring vegetables and a rosemary jus. I enjoyed my first two courses so much I had to have dessert too, so I had the Three Chimneys Famous Hot Marmalade Pudding with Drambuie Custard. It was all absolutely delicious, and I would thoroughly recommend the Three Chimneys if you're ever on Skye. It's not cheap, but the food is out of this world, the service is impeccable, and the location is unbelievable.

However.

I regret eating that starter.

We got home about 8.15 this evening, intending to get straight into our jammies, and eat pizza in front of the TV. The cats were pleased(ish) to see us - Coco sulked and wouldn't cuddle me until I gave her a KitBit - and the house was fine. We unpacked the car, and I went into the living room to make sure everything was ok. I noticed that our fireguard had been moved. I then saw something white in the fireplace. I went to have a closer look and saw a pile of soot, debris and feathers sitting on the coals of the fire, and more of the same all over the fireplace, and the floor just in front. I then looked a bit further up, to the beginning of the chimney, and saw a pair of feet.

A pair of birdy-looking feet. Attached to something that looked distinctly bird-like.

I nearly crapped my pants of course, and I shouted for the Boy to come and have a look. He agreed that it looked a bit birdy, but was of the opinion that it was dead (he was unable to explain how on earth a dead bird would manage to perch in our chimney however). He went for something with which to poke the bird, for that is what it was. Now I should be precise here, it wasn't just a bird, it was a pigeon.

A WOOD PIGEON. One of these. One of THESE. In MY LIVING ROOM.

The Boy poked the pigeon with the end of a broom. It was most definitely NOT dead. The poor thing got a terrible fright - it squawked and flapped its wings so hard trying to escape from the nasty poking man that it dislodged yet more of the crap that was in our chimney, and did another enormous shit on our lovely living flame gas fire.

The Boy agreed that the bird was not dead and suggested, most unhelpfully, that we turn the fire on. It was at this moment, when he suggested roast wood pigeon instead of pizza for dinner, that I realised this was karma. I ate one of this bird's cousins. Possibly even more than one (I don't know how much meat you get on a pigeon, but I'm guessing not much).

I was in a bit of a state. I didn't know what to do - I kept saying to the Boy 'but what do we DO?', while he stood with his hands in his pockets looking at the fireplace, much like a plumber who looks at your boiler whilst trying to figure out how to break the bad news. In the end, we did what we always do - we phoned our mums ('But what do we DO?!').

However, neither of them were any help, so I phoned the SSPCA. We were lucky that the only animal inspector in Edinburgh and the Lothians was able to pop in on her way to another job - she dove straight in without a moment's hesitation, and after much flapping and flying of sooty feathers, the inspector pulled Priscilla the Pigeon from our chimney. She looked a bit bedraggled and indignant, and her tail feathers were in a sorry state, but she was otherwise ok (hurrah!). The SSPCA lady said she'd take Priscilla into the wildlife centre for a few days, to let her recover from her ordeal, and make sure her missing tail feathers would grow back ok, and off she went.

I took some pictures before I cleaned away all the mess the damned pigeon made, you can look at them here. It's nearly midnight and only now am I starting to calm down and relax after a long journey home from Skye, and an unexpected welcome from a wild creature in my living room. I think I need another glass of wine.

I'll put some of my holiday pictures up in the next couple of days.

Labels: Food, Holidays, Karma

Tomorrow morning me, the Boy, both our Mums, and Boris The Dog are leaving for the bonny Isle of Skye. I'm praying for sunshine, or at the very least an absence of driving rain and howling wind, which is what I remember from my last trip to the island about 13 years ago. However, this being Scotland, I'm packing my waterproofs. And remembering that at least it looks atmospheric when the mist comes down:

Coco and Roo are staying here to hold the fort, and our friendly catsitter is coming every day to make sure they're not having any wild parties in my absence (also to water my carrots, which are going great guns by the way).

I'll be back next Saturday, hopefully tanned and relaxed, but more than likely knackered and midge-bitten.

Keep an eye on the place, won't you.

Labels: Holidays

...I am ill.

I have what I sincerely hope is a cold, and not the 'respiratory virus' that seems to have infected everyone south of Inverness. At the moment I just feel like I have one of my many colds, but I hear that that's how the nasty bug starts, so hopefully it doesn't develop any further. I wouldn't be surprised if it does end up being a virus though - we spent most of our night with the neighbours on Friday being coughed upon by the lady next door, who sounded like she might hack up a blackened lung at any moment (which really put me off my sausage roll).

Despite feeling crap when I got up today, I went into work and spent most of the day dreaming of lying under a blanket in front of a roaring fire. At lunchtime I took a break from staring moronically at my computer screen and went out for a bit of fresh air, thinking it would help. Instead I got rained on, and stepped in a big puddle. For the rest of the afternoon I sat at my desk and tried to look busy, whilst sniffling and applying Vaseline to my poor red hooter. I really am quite pathetic when I'm under the weather.*

*Fiance will vouch for this. I guarantee it.

ANYWAY, we booked a holiday last night!

I know, it's exciting isn't it?!

We'll have our honeymoon later in the year (which ISN'T booked yet) but C and I both felt that we couldn't wait till September to have a break. We're going away for a week with both our mums and the dog to a pretty little cottage on Skye. We plan to do some walking, lots of eating and drinking, and generally just chill out away from Edinburgh and any wedding-related stress. I'm really looking forward to it. I wasn't sure I would be - I love both mums to bits of course, but it can sometimes be difficult having two grieving widows to think about - but I genuinely am looking forward to going away with both of them. It helps that both of them seem to be quite positive and cheery now that the festive season is over.

The only slight downside is that I can't take my little cats with me. I'll be enlisting the help of the catsitter, Alison, to take care of them while we're gone. Roo and Coco love her - she jokes that it's because she rolls in catnip before coming round but I'm not so sure she's joking. I think they like Alison more than they like me.

Hopefully I will live to post another day, but for now I have a date with my sofa and a blanket.

Labels: Holidays, Illness, Pets

We bought a Christmas tree yesterday, so I'm feeling rather festive today. We braved the weekend crowds and atrocious weather at a garden centre near Stirling and managed NOT to kill each other or anyone else. I think this deserves some kind of award because the people in that garden centre were not displaying any of the goodwill towards their fellow man that you might expect at this time of year.

The new tree is not real unfortunately (I love the smell of a real tree) because our cats would probably eat the needles and get sick, because I hate hoovering and because real trees are a bit more high maintenance than the fake kind. But all the same, it's lovely - it has twinkly little white lights all over it, and I bought some fancy new red and silver decorations for it. I'll upload a picture tonight if I can get a good one. Coco was verrry interested in the big green thing that suddenly appeared in the living room. Unfortunately she seemed to think the best way to investigate it was to chew the ends of the branches (where the twinkly little lights are wired on) so I spent most of last night chasing her away from it with the Dustbuster, which is the only thing that she's scared of.

Every Christmas for as long as I can remember (and, I'm reliably informed, before that as well) I spent at my mum and dad's house. Until last year, when everything in my life changed irrevocably. None of us could face a Christmas at home because my dad died in November 2005, so we all went up to my sister's. It was lovely (my sister and her boyfriend put on a good spread), but different in so many ways to the last 24 Christmases I'd had. And this year it's going to be different again. My sister and her boyfriend are coming down to Edinburgh, and everyone is coming to OUR house for Christmas Breakfast* and present-opening and then we're going to my future Mother-in-Law's house for dinner.

I'm actually really excited to be having everyone round - we're so happy in the new house it's not going to be a chore at all. We're going to work really hard to get it looking lovely, make lots of lovely breakfast food, and spend the morning in our new house with our VIP's (our mums, my sister and her boyfriend and my wee cats).

I was dreading it last year, so it's nice to be looking forward to Christmas Day again.

*Because a) although we'd like to we don't have the room to facilitate Christmas Dinner and b) the thought of dealing with giblets makes me want to vomit.

Labels: Christmas, Dad, family, Holidays

I can't wait for my wedding. As terrified as I am about the whole thing, I can't wait to put on my dress and make Fiance REALLY mean it when he says in his speech that I'm the girl of his dreams.* I'm excited at the prospect of being married, and being Fiance's trouble and strife (even more so than I am already).

However, I'm VERY excited about the honeymoon. Fiance and I have agreed that we're going to splash out as much as we can without having to file for bankruptcy and have the holiday of a lifetime, so I kind of feel like the world's my oyster (Fiance: 'Don't you mean OUR oyster? And while we're at it, it's OUR wedding remember!').

I'd always figured we'd end up somewhere like Mexico or the Caribbean but then I got this for my desk at work (my boss is fairly relaxed about the desk accessories we purchase on the departmental budget), and ever since I've been like a kid in a sweetshop. Whenever I have a spare minute at work I pore over my miniature world, picking out interesting destinations and planning itineraries that would keep us occupied for months on end, never mind the three weeks max that we'll be able to afford (or not as the case may be).

Fiance is fully on board about the whole 'holiday of a lifetime' thing, but he's a bit more practical than me when it comes to paying for the thing. He realises that, much as we would like to, we can't do both North and South America. Or China then Japan. Or Malaysia then the Maldives. Or Australia then Fiji. Or the Ice Hotel in Sweden then somewhere else to warm up.

It's such a shame, I have such a lot of good ideas. There's so many places in the world I want to see, I'm never going to be able to pin it down to just one. Still, it's not a bad decision to have to make!

*Not that I'm hinting or anything.

Labels: Holidays, Wedding

Oy. I've just realised it's Saturday night and I've not posted anything since Tuesday. I've not really been up to anything very interesting (until today, but I'll get to that later), and to tell the truth I've not really had anything to say. We've been pottering around the flat, shopping, eating, gardening (I know!), and just generally enjoying not being at work.

We had our mums round for dinner, which means I cooked an entire meal for four (homemade lasagne with salad and tarte tatin with creme anglaise for dessert, thankyouverymuch) without poisoning anyone or setting anything on fire. Both mums seemed to enjoy it, but they may have just been saying that because I was still holding the bread knife.

We also took Coco to the vet to have her stitches removed, so she is no longer my little Frankenstein cat, and is MUCH happier without that nasty buster collar on:
She's now back to her old self - terrorising poor old Roo and eating my houseplants.

On Hallowe'en we did the friendly-neighbour bit and had six groups of guisers round, including one child I wanted to keep for myself, purely for entertainment purposes and the odd bit of smooshing cause he was just so darn cute. He came round with his dad (while all the other kids had come round in groups), and when I opened the door he told me he was going to sing a song. I don't know what I expected, The Alphabet Song or something relating to the Teletubbies maybe. I certainly did not expect him to start belting out Blue Suede Shoes in a pretty darn good impression of Elvis. I was so impressed with both his voice and his guts for standing in front of a complete stranger and singing all by himself, I gave the wee lad extra sweeties and a round of applause.

But today, I actually did do something interesting - I went shopping for my wedding dress. We only went to two bridal shops but I think I may have found The Dress. I had an idea of what I didn't want, and I tried on a few nice dresses that kind of almost fitted the bill in the first shop. Then we got to the second place (a tiny boutique owned by a mad Polish lady who designs dresses and makes jewellery), and I realised the nice dresses I'd tried on in the first shop were actually nothing special at all. The last dress I tried on was one the mad Polish lady suggested, and not one I would have picked out myself but MY GOD that woman was a genius. I loved it. I'm trying not to allow myself to get too excited as it was probably only the 10th or 11th dress I've tried and it was also the most expensive dress of any I looked at today - by a long shot...

[Insert sarky comment from Fiance here.]

Labels: Hallowe'en, Holidays, Wedding