i robot...

Ms Ginger Cake's son thought of us and gave us a copy of i Robot. It was one of those nearly free ones, apart, that is, from the obvious damage that it does to your soul. It wasn't that great a copy, but it was watchable (just the occasional person getting up to go to the toilet). The film was fantastic. Block busting action and something to think about. Who could ask for more? I can't wait for it to come out in the cinemas so that I can see it again. I got so caught up in the film that it was easy to put aside any quibbles that I may have about what they have done to Asimov's stories (Susan Calvin with a machine gun!) A great film that is sure to spawn many sequels. I would give it 8.5/10.

us...

Here is something else I did instead of cleaning. It is Mrs McMuffin and me in profile. There was a lot of photoshopping involved.

dear old blighty

Oh its good to be back in the land of hope and glory after our time away. Our little eyes misted over as we saw the white cliffs of Dover and even Mr McMuffin shed a tear of happiness. We spent a whole nine hours in France and ate a lovely lunch in St Omer, but you just can't beat the congestion and sheer overcrowding in the southeast of England. How would we have coped with a whole weekend in Warsaw? We are thankful for our lucky escape.

Actually we had a lovely day. I had forgotten how going across the channel feels so romantic and like the start of a proper journey, I fear flying, but it's also too fast to give a sense of distance. I was pleased to find that my schoolgirl French was understood and that a lot of vocabulary came back to me. Not useful stuff, mind you, unless a situation arises where a monkey really is on a table.

I have been betrayed by my own family. For some strange reason they have sent us anniversary cards (even we don't bother, after all we were both at the wedding) addressed to Mr and Mrs (insert Mr McMuffin's real surname). How many times do I have to tell them that I have not lost my own surname? It's not like they can't remember it. The only place Mr McMuffin's name is linked to mine is on my passport, where I have (please don't be sick) double barrelled. This didn't stop my airline ticket to Madeira having only his surname on it following on from the title 'Mrs' which I have only EVER used on blogs. I wonder what they'll do when Mr McMuffin changes his name on his next passport. My guess is they'll put all of it down, because he's the man. I am aware that women of the world are persecuted in horrendous ways and this is so minor in comparison, but it's still bloody sexist and pisses me off.

Us McMuffins are cleaning up today, once again I am flipping stunned by the hard work this entails. I want our old flat back, where two hours hard work=spotlessness. I also need the life laundry people to come round as Mr McMuffin and I seem to be the victims of an experiment by an evil scientist, the polarities have been reversed and he is now a bigger pack rat than me. I just want to throw things out.

i also made...

I am very pleased with myself. I have made an icon for my new camera, so that it shows up in iPhoto when I connect it. Not much cleaning getting done here.

ra...

We are just doing a bit of cleaning up in preparation for Mr TEFL Smiler's stay with us this weekend, but before I could do anything, Ra managed to strike a pose that I just had to photograph. This is the cat that has been making our life a misery over the last few weeks. For some reason he has decided that he wants to spend his every waking moment with us. This is driving poor Slinky a bit mad. There seems to be some kind of spraying and pooing cat battle going on around us. Last night I decided that I wouldn't even let Ra in the house, so that Slinky could have it all to himself, but Ra set up post outside on the windows and wailed and wailed. I could see that Mrs McMuffin was close to breaking point, so I suggested that she go to bed, and ignore him. This morning, she tells me that she and Slinky had a long talk last night, and he has agreed to share the house with Ra. That isn't strange, is it?

feed and weed

I am getting to the age where more than a couple of beers is not a good thing. I'm not much of a drinker by inclination, but when Gypsy Tart nipped round yesterday to say that she had bought me a bottle of Hoegaarden, it would have been churlish to refuse. We had a long night of eating, chatting and drinking but I managed to get up this morning with some energy to tackle the garden.

I can't believe how much it had deteriorated in the last couple of weeks. The 'grass' was more of a shrubbery and the plants needed a good watering. I'm getting sick of digging up the weeds, but don't want to 'weed and feed' it as I worry for our frogs. I know they show happy little frogs in the advert, but the product carries a warning about not using it near to ponds. I cut masses of the grapevine away so that the grapes will ripen properly, but still have loads to do, as we allowed ourselves to be distracted by Ms Ginger Cake and taken to IKEA and Costco. If the weather's good I'll be out there tomorrow, bugger the cleaning.

I am a little disappointed that Mr McMuffin hasn't been able to have the anniversary break he would have liked, but amazed at the sneakiness of Ms Ginger Cake and our boss, who arranged my leave for Monday and Tuesday without my knowledge. Bless them, they didn't even cringe when I was prattling on about some of the stuff I was going to follow up after the weekend. I now have a long weekend to enjoy and prepare me for the next few weeks, where I'm going to be covering a lot of leave and will probably up my swear rate to prosecutable levels.

said the spider to the fly...

I found this in the garden. An odd looking spider eating a Dragon Fly. I love my camera.

for slinky...

Keith over at The Sturdy Soapbox sent this to me this morning. Thought it was such a great idea that I just had to share it with you all.

lovely stuff...

We are having a lovely relaxing evening with Ms Gypsy Tart and Mr Rock Cake. We have drank ourselves silly with wine and beer, and now moved onto spirits. We are trying to combine our respective dinners. I am cooking a strange pasta concoction and bread, while they are cooking salmon fillets and making some kind of salad. I really like living so close to them. We have a fantastic four day weekend. I have arranged with Mrs McMuffin's work for her to have Monday and Tuesday off. It is all a bit sad, but it is looking unlikely that we are going to get to see Warsaw, and more likely that we will have a day trip to France instead, which seems like a bit of a comedown. Ah well, I have found this amazing site that does really cheap flights to eastern europe, and we can get to Budapest in December for only £44 return. This may be a bit of a ramble, as I have had too much to drink. Got to go and sort out our dinner. Hope you are all having a lovely evening.

cats; can't live with them, can't shoot them

So much for another early night. Slinky can't settle, so neither can I. He knows better than to try and wake Mr McMuffin, so he just yowls at me. I've kicked Ra out because I just won't have two cats that don't belong to us living in our home and Slinky's fast heading towards the door. Sadly, he is very good at reading my mind, so with an impressive piece of paw action has opened the door and run upstairs.

As I was coming down the stairs I smelled 'the smell'©. Ra's revenge has been to spray the front door so that the enticing aroma of disgruntled cat permeates the house. Who will rid me of these cats? Clearly not Mr McMuffin and the scaffolder who came to our house today to price up some work. Apparently the pair of them had a lovely chat about how much they adore cats. Since when have men felt able to express their feline feelings?

As an aside for Karan, a 2:1 is an upper second class honours degree. I don't know the US equivalent, but I think it's something to do with 'cum laude'. We have first, upper second, lower second and third class honours degrees. Degrees without honours are graded in the same way as Master's degrees; pass, credit, distinction. Of course this could be complete rubbish, but what do I know? I only got a 2:2.

!!! Mr McMuffin has just come downstairs holding a bashful Slinky.
He has now thrown him out and explained that Slinky woke him by SPRAYING on his leg.
He says he feels cheap and used.
Slinky has jumped back in through the window, so obviously wants to reassure Mr McMuffin of his love for him.
Slinky has gone upstairs again.
Mr McMuffin has a haunted look.

This last part was brought to you in REAL TIME by the intrepid Mrs McMuffin, girl reporter of the McMuffin household.