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December 11th, 2009
madam_h
 | 07:26 pm - A much better day
Perfectly frosty morning, with a slight misty and golden sunshine glowing through the haze.
Work... not so bad. I went to the deli on the way in and bought some cakey-bread stuff with poppy seeds by way of apologising to everyone for being monstrous grumpy yesterday afternoon.
Came home in heavier mist, all the sounds muffled when we stepped out into the car park. I love the soft-edged discs of colour around the streetlamps, car headlights and traffic lights. Rubies going up and diamonds coming down :)
Most of the debris is now in the front room, where it don't get in the way too much and when it will be easy to clear out when the skip arrives (whenever that may be). This means that I can move in the livingroom again. On Monday I'll spend time preparing beds and curtains and things so that Evy and G won't need a last-minute B&B room.
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December 10th, 2009
madam_h
| 05:01 pm - Grrr, arrrrgh and other similar sentiments
What a crappy day.
And I'm here for another three hours :(
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December 9th, 2009
madam_h
| 10:45 am - My phrase for the day
Hot Mormon elves smeared with pork pie jelly.
I thank you :)
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December 8th, 2009
madam_h
| 10:37 pm - Madness and moaning
So tired of the house. Plasterer is coming to finish off on Thursday, and I found a few little bits on various walls I want to ask him to fill. Plumber and joiner next week because I can't face it this week, even though Evy and G are here next week. I'll send a warning.
I REALLY want to go to see Muse in Osaka-jo Hall, Japan, on 09 January but, yes, I know that I can't... I have bigger fish to fry but right now I don't want to be frying fish, I want to be running away from the fish and the frying pan and the whole damn shebang.
Tired ofsleeping on my sofa becuase I have no curtains in either bedroom. Tired of shifting furniture and debris. Tired of the dust and the bad throat and the claggy nose and... did I mention the dust? Tired of having to watch the worktops like a hawk lest anything spills on them before they're oiled. Tired of even thinking about going out to buy tiles and adhesive and filler. Tired of trying to decide whether to paint the whole house white or to go for colours. Tired of juggling cash. Tired of not sleeping well. Tired of dirty sheets and throws lying around covered in dust and pva after being used to protect doors from plastering. Tired of my livingroom being full of old doors and worktops and architraves.
I had wanted to have this all finished - I mean everything, from the plastering to the decorating - by the end of October. At this rate, end of January looks more likely :(
This weekend in Lincoln can't come fast enough, and I'm on the guest list for the Samson & Delilah gig at Dulcimer tomorrow night :) Drinks and music and a friend to talk with.
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December 7th, 2009
madam_h
| 06:42 pm - Bathroom tiles and Limoges
Righty-ho, my house is playing silly buggers. Yes, I got the tiles off the bathroom wall. Yes, the wall came with them. Yes, it was messy.
I also managed to remove the cardboard-and-expanding-foam filler that had been put in behind the taps years ago. Holy crap, that stuff was bastard fiddly to get out! Took me nearly an hour to clear a space the size of a volume of the Encylopedia Britannica, all of it being done either sitting on/kneeling beside the toiler, reaching under blindly and hacking at it with chisel, screwdriver and brute force, or squashed down into the small space between the toilet and the bath, lying on my side and reaching up with the arm that I was lying on to fiddle about amongst the pipes and and debris. Two good things: a) an immense feeling of satisfaction when it was over and b) an even more immense sense of relief that I will never have to do it again.
Oh, I promised you a picture of the fringe, didn't I? Here it is in Limoges, with the usual apologies for unphotogenicity...
If you ever need to travel to Liverpool Airport from Manchester, try not to do it on the 03:40 Sunday Terravision coach from Sackville Street. The coach itself is fine, but Sackville Street on what is, for the inhabitants, late Saturday night is, as Obi-Wan Kenobi would say, a fucking shithole... a fucking shithole. People - who probably started the night with the intention of having a few drinks and pulling - roaming the streets in torn clothes, no shoes, spattered with all sorts of fluids, shrieking and bellowing at each other and everyone else, manners out of the window, taking offense and taking the piss in equal measure and generally behaving hideously. Bawling tears and uncoordinated aggro, all swirling around in a seething mixture of alcohol, pills and hormones.
Limoges - or, at least, the bits that I saw of it - is nicer than Sackville Street on a Saturday night. It has the smallest airport I have ever seen: the in and out doors right next to each other, four check-in desks, about three staff and a lot of procelain on display in cases.
I hung around, knackered, until the others showed up - Olly, Alix, Pope, Dip, Frank, Lo, Lianne and Ross (I think that that's everyone) - and then we managed to get taxis to the town, with the plan of having an early lunch before checking in at the hotel.
Off to Place Stalingrad, and then a brief wander before fetching up in Les Glaciers (sp?) at the top of Avenue de la Libération. It was grand and they treated us very nicely, considering that we were all a bit slap-happy on tiredness and very little French! I had duck (I was in France, I could have no other), Dip and Popey had the steak... and very blue they all were, too :) Crepes with ice-cream for me and an enormous banana split for Olly, which he finished in a manly fashion. Then a drink at La Bibliothèque, with its lovely interior and snippy chappy. By the way, Limoges appears to have a thing for beer-based cocktails... that sound you can hear is my stomach, churning.
A bit of an epic walk through the streets to Art Hotel Tendance... but worth it in the end, as I ended up with what might have been the most comfortable bed I've ever had the pleasure of collapsing on.
I can barely remember what we did for the rest of that first night. I assume that we went out for more drinks.
Next day was an odd mixture of wandering with the others and wandering on my own. Lianne, Ross and I had breakfast (the biggest croissant I ever saw in my life, lots of hot chocolate, all eaten in the company of Dieter, the elderly and friendly golden labrador) and then went walking. First to the glorious Gare de Limoges-Bénédictins, and then on towards the river Vienne, which flows through the city wide and stately and flat as a mill pond. After pottering up and down the bank and on one of the bridges, we took one of the small medieval roads (where I spotted a little stylized, brass cockleshell on the road and so discovered that Limoges is one of the stops on the Santiago de Compostela pilgrim way) up to the Cathédrale Saint-Étienne de Limoges. I don't have the architectural knowledge to describe it properly, but the Eastern end looked suspiciously like Minas Morgul. Imagine trudging along for a few days on the way, tired and sore and hungry and then turning a corner on the road to find yourself face to face with those massive stone buttresses, pointing at you like the fingers of God?
After using more of my stunning French in the little patisserie on Rue de la Règle to buy a butter croissant, a chocolate'n'coconut cookie thing and a fabulous pastry twist stuffed with mincemeat, we strolled around the gardens and then returned to the hotel to join up with the others, and then out to a pub for lunch. A rather disappointing chicken caesar salad for me, but I was glad of the greenery. I left when the drinking got a bit crazy and headed back to the cathedral, which was now open for inspection.
The North Transept and elevation were shrouded in scaffolding for renovation work, and it felt odd to wander around that still stone space to the sound of sand-blasting. At first glance it was all very plain and severe, very dark, and very cold, however my eyes adjusted and I could see the beautiful decoration on many of the pillars, walls, side chapels and aisle vaults. Touching the work was so wonderful - the work of stonemasons and carpenters, plasterers, painters, gilders; someone designed those foliate and geometric patterns and spent long hours painting the stone and wood.
The cathedral's real glory, for me, lay far back in the Eastern End behind the altar, where the stained glass flooded the ambulatory with blue light. So much clear, fine, blue glass in tall, elegant windows. This hard, chilly building, lit all in sky, so cold and calm and serene.
An elderly man, who walked very slowly, leaning on his stick, sat for a long time in the Chapel of the Virgin, under its deep blue vault set with gilded stars. We arrived at the door together on the way out and I held it open for him - his face lit up and he gave me a lovely, gallant smile and a merry, "Merci!"
I bought some food on the way back, sat with the others in the bar for a while and then went home for a good, hot shower and bed, ready for the crazy queueing action in the morning.
Next morning, we all got up and out in good order, arrived at the Zénith de Limoges at 05:50, got mistaken for the support band for a moment (huh?), sat in the freezing cold with half a dozen French musers and then, come 09:00 decided to bugger off because, frankly, it wasn't worth getting hypothermia and frostbite just in order to see Muse from the barrier. Back to the hotel, where we warmed up all snuggled together in bed, and then out again - back to the Cathedral so that some folks could see it for the first time, into the botanic gardens, where I found goldfish and glorious trees, and out for lunch.
At about 6pm we went out to catch the bus back to the Zénith. I hadn't appreciated just what a nice-looking building it is... or what a small building it is! We knew that it only held 6,000 or so, but we would have been quite cheesed if we'd queued for 12 hours as we were practically on the barrier the moment we got through the doors!
Tiny.
Got ourselves a good spot on the floor, right in the middle and about fifteen feet back and proceeded to have an absolute blast. Biffy Clyro were great - I hardly know them but the sound was excellent and the songs were catchy and having your lead guitarist/singer up on stage looking like a wiry length of shirtless loveliness doesn't hurt any.
So, the main event. Muse. Who took forever to turn up on stage. Still, we had time for some great Mexican waves and a load of chanting and clapping.
When they finally stormed on they put on a helluva show and we think that they really enjoyed themselves. A lot of the group I was with had bought flashing glasses like Matt's and they all went on when Uprising started - you can see the group just below the left-hand laser...
Setlist was alright - we got MK Ultra and lots of decent riffing - and Matt threw in some unexpected lyrics :) We went crazy with the air drumming, guitar licks, yelling and cheering, jumping up and down and generally having a whale of a time. We got out knackered, sweaty and utterly buzzed on one of the best gigs Muse have done for some time (well, since Dublin, anyway!)
Then the insanity over taxis, which ended up with at least one taxi company blacklisting us. Too cold to stay, Lianne, Nic, Brian and I decided to walk back. After the first 5-10mins we warmed right on up and had a very pleasant fast stroll home - the tower of the train station lit up ahead of us was a very welcome sight, and we fell into bed sometime in the wee small hours, happy and exhausted.
Next day... bit of a rush back to the airport and then home, most of us on the same flight. We trooped merrily off to the Rocket near Euston station, for food (rack of ribs, mmm) and drinks and good times. Laure, Debs, Josse, Chris and others turned up, and it was fabulous to see them all again - I've met so many fine, fine people throught this damn band!
Then off to Victoria for a distressingly hot coach journey back to Manchester.
Um. Sudden cessation of Musing.
I want to go back to Limoges sometime for a real holiday: eating the food, drinking the wine, improving my French (which, to say the least, wouldn't be difficult) and seeing all the sights.
It was a blast.
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madam_h
| 11:33 am - Dad and Christmas
It has been several weeks since I last cried about Dad. Sometimes I get right to the end of the day and realise that I haven't thought about him - it startles me and then I realise that it's okay, it's fine, it's healthy.
Thinking about Christmas - Dad, consumerism, de-cluttering - I realise that, while I don't want to do nothing at all, I don't want to send presents, either. Instead, I've made a donation to the Jubilee Sailing Trust. Dad might not have managed to get to sea, but I can help other people to get there.
Right, I'm off into Chorlton to buy a few cards to send out to people.
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December 6th, 2009
madam_h
| 07:41 pm - ARGH - kitchen worktop woe
Joiner told me that I would need to oil the wooden worktops once they were in. I've just found one of the installation and maintenance sheets...
Prior* to installation you must generously oil all the surfaces of the wood paying particular attention to the underside and back edges.
So, I need to call him and point this out, get him to oil the worktops and try to stop myself from paying him for the extra time for removing and then re-fitting the damn things.
* My emphasis.
Current Mood: frustrated
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madam_h
| 08:42 am - Grumbling about how nerves make me stupid
Okay, my only major beef right now about the work that's been done on the house so far is with the doors. I wish I hadn't gone along with the joiner about getting slightly narrower doors and rebating the frames. I wish I'd held firm and told him that, no, we are going to look for wider doors and use the frames exactly as they are.
The doors themselves are lovely and it will all (fingers crossed) look fine when it's sealed and painted, but the rebates will almost certainly look a little odd. It would have looked the bees knees if I'd stuck to my guns.
*sighs*
ANYWAY.
Tea, maybe breakfast, and then start work.
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December 5th, 2009
madam_h
| 11:51 pm - To Do List for Sunday + Monday
- clean plaster dust and wood shavings off every surface in the house
- laundry, oh so much laundry
- dishes
- remove shower rail
- strip tiles from head of bath very carefully... now half done, with half the wall gone. Um.
- soak the adhesive off the tiles... not done, but not sure I can be arsed.
- move the units, sofa and Cutty Sark out of the livingroom
- clear a pile of debris into the garden
- food shop, because the cupboards look remarkably bare
- take down the curtains from the second bedroom
- jerry-rig something curtain-like in the first bedroom without damaging the new plaster
- write up my trip to Limoooooges and Muse ♥
- send a card to a friend
- pack some bits and pieces away now that my travels are over
- dust the plants, poor dears
- strip paint off the skirting boards
I'd like to write some porn, too, but I doubt that it will happen.
Current Mood: busy
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December 4th, 2009
madam_h
| 09:56 pm - House update - Limoges to follow in due course
Doors are on complete with fittings, worktops are in, plastering is almost finished, radiators are up and running, shower should happen next week once I've stripped the tiles away - they seem to be coming away whole, which is a great relief.
I am, however, knackered and cheesed off with living in this mess.
( picspammy update of house gubbins )
I have a Limoges write-up and pictures of Limoges Cathedral to post sometime this weekend.
Utterly unrelated... Memorial is one of my very favourite pieces of music. Here are the first 5 or 6 minutes of it, although you need the full 12 minutes to get the full impact...
Current Music: Michael Nyman Band - Memorial
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