We’ve been ’slammed’ … but we’re warm.

Much excitement – and it’s only just past lunchtime.

Firstly, the missing spare part for our boiler FINALLY showed up today and John-the-Heating-Engineer shot over and bunged it in.  The central heating worked for about a nanosecond – or at least long enough for the aforementioned John-the-Heating-Engineer to vanish down the drive in a spray of gravel – before collapsing again.  Two heartbroken telephone conversations later, he was back, muttering darkly about “The idiot who last meddled with this thing …” (that would be him …).  One final tweak and – SHAZAAM!  We have heat.

Shortly before 1.00pm, the telephone rang.  it was someone at BT confirming that they’d received a Transfer of Service request and that our BT service would terminate on the 17th of this month.

“But we didn’t ASK for a transfer of service!” we cried, pathetically.  Plainly disbelieving us, the young (and it has to be said rather surly) young lady on the other end of the ‘phone insisted that Oh Yes We Had.

“Oh No We Haven’t … “

(You get the drift …).

Fast forward to the terribly helpful young man on the Freephone number Miss Surly gave us, who politely and patiently explained that we’d obviously fallen victim to a practice known as ‘Slamming’,  which is basically when one of those irritating-as-all-hell telecoms companies who are always ringing up and pestering the life out of you about switching from BT actually switches your service without your express  permission.

All sorted now, but really, how tiresome.  I’m sure life was much easier when telephones were those cute things with whirly dials, and operators on the other end …

Posh shoes to the left of me … lipstick to the right of me …

Not only have I found both my posh shoes AND my lippy … a friend of mine is so appalled by my near-shoeless condition that she’s putting her cast-offs in the post to me.

I’m also receiving sartorial advice from several directions, along with links to clothing websites and helpful suggestions for revamping my wardrobe.

I had no idea I was such a total basket case.  Any minute now I’m going to get an email from someone just checking that I know where London is.

(Of course I do.  It’s south of Manchester.)

Meanwhile, we still have no heat in the Centre.  Our heroic heating engineer has managed to track down the necessary bits and hopes to have it up and running by the weekend, but in the meantime Gretchen and I are both swathed in many woolly layers and are bowling around like a couple of jolly cartoon Inuits.  Only not so jolly.

Found!

Posh shoes!  I found my posh shoes!  They were in my “Clothes I don’t have much occasion to wear” cupboard – the one that’s wedged behind the armchair in my bedroom.  (If you’d ever seen my bedroom, you’d understand, believe me.)

Now, having ticked that off the list, I need to track down the posh lipstick that Lisa bought me in response to THIS TRAGIC POST.

This could take a while … just talk among yourselves for a bit.

Ebenezer Scrooge is alive and well and …

… living in West Cumbria.

The Centre’s central heating boiler has gone ‘phut’ again.  John-the-heating-engineer says the thermostat’s fritzed, so he’s ordered a new one – and a new timer while he’s at it, just as a belt-and-braces job … but they won’t be with us until Monday or Tuesday at the earliest.

What I really want to know, however, is what it says about me and the glamorous life I’ve plainly led that I own not one, not two, but THREE pairs of fingerless gloves.

Off to get a hot drink …

Missing … 1 pair of Posh Shoes

My only pair of posh shoes has gonoe AWOL.  They’re a  neat, understated pair of black court shoes with  1½ inch heels, that I don’t fall over in.  Well, not often anyway.

Those of you who actually remember anything I write about may recall in that in March I’m going down to London to judge The Romantic Novel of the Year Award.  I feel that sturdy boots and hairy socks may not be quite the thing for the Royal Garden Hotel, where the awards ceremony is taking place, so I thought I ought to try and find my Posh Shoes.

I last remember having them for the AGM of the Cumbria Community Foundation in the autumn of last year.  I tried to find them at Christmas, but failed, and in any case they wouldn’t have been much use in snow and black ice …

I have an unnerving feeling that they may be somewhere in the back of my car.  ‘Back’ is a loose term describing the whole area behind the front seats.  If you’ve SEEN the back of my car, you’ll understand my problem.  Most other women I know have neat cars – all hoovered upholstery and scented air.  I have things growing and crawling around in mine.  There are parts of it that haven’t seen the light of day in months.  If my shoes are in there, they’ll take some finding, and are likely to be mouldy, or squashed, or quite probably both.

On the other hand of course, Helena Bonham-Carter can get away with boots.

On the OTHER other hand, Helena Bonham-Carter looks as if she’d blow over in a light breeze.

It would take something of the order of a Storm Force 8 to make me so much as wobble …

The prizes so far …

Thought you might like a sneak peek at how the prizes are lining up for our decidedly snazzy Spring 2010 raffle …

A Super Genie 16″ folding bicycle:

A unique autographed photographic self-portrait of the actor Edward Petherbridge, entitled “Wimsey Through the Looking Glass”, kindly donated to us by Edward himself.  It was taken by him in the dressing room mirror at the Lyric, Hammersmith, when he was playing Lord Peter Wimsey in “Busman’s Honeymoon”:

A beautiful handmade double quilt with what can only be called “A History” … It was a prop in the ill-fated West End ‘musical’ about the suicide of Ernest Hemingway entitled Too Close to the Sun, which ran for just two weeks in the summer of 2009 after one of the worst critical drubbings in theatre history.  In a forlorn attempt to recoup SOME of the  money it lost, the producers took the unprecedented step of putting the props up for sale on eBay while the production was still running … which is how we ended up with the quilt.  It comes with a Programme and a letter of provenance.  But even without the track record, it’s a gorgeous quilt …

An autographed copy of Edward Enfield’s latest book Old Age and How to Survive It:

A boxed 3-DVD set of the BBC’s award-winning documentary series Seven Wonders of the Industrial World autographed by Jay Benedict, who played legendary engineer Frank Crowe in the Hoover Dam episode:

A signed copy of Ranulph Fienne’s latest book Mad Dogs and Englishmen – An Expedition Round My Family.

A bit of a ‘do’ …

I went to a bit of a ‘do’ last night – the opening of our friend Ralf Bidder’s exhibition of furniture at the Lowes Court Gallery in Egremont.  You know,  the usual thing – nibblies, convivial company and trying to sip your drink without moving your elbows.

Everything was going swimmingly until I realized I was wearing odd socks – one brown and one black.

Does nothing for your savour faire, I can tell you.

Coitus interruptus … and how

An interesting weekend – or more exactly, an interesting Sunday.

We have a tame pheasant in our back garden at home, whom we have christened Victor.

Yesterday, Victor was in the garden, patrolling the tree stumps where I put the food out, and he had a  FEMALE PHEASANT at his side. The old rogue was plainly trying to impress her with his wordly goods, showing her all the glories that could be hers in exchange for a little nookie:   raisins, sunflowers seeds, dried mealworms, insect-laced suet, peanuts …

The next thing we know – the pair of them are diving for cover as a buzzard swooped low over the tree stumps, coming in like a dive-bombing Stuka.

Bet that put Victor right off the idea …

Rather like the unfortunate soul who strolled up our driveway in the afternoon while I was out splitting logs and chopping kindling. I saw this slightly shifty individual pull up at the bottom of the drive in a white van (natch) and head for our front door.  I waylaid him from the shrubbery and he sort of stepped back, bug-eyed and slightly startled.

I smiled at him winningly and he managed to mutter something about being interested in buying the Fiesta that was sitting on our driveway.  (Scrappage scam, anyone?).  I said ‘Not interested’ and he scarpered without a whimper.

It was only after I went back to my logs and kindling that I realized I had an axe in one hand and lump-hammer in the other …

Aubrey Rose CBE DUniv

I’ll be sending out a Press Release on Monday about our new Patron,  but you, our good and faithful followers,  are the first to know:

PRESS RELEASE

New Patron announced for the Centre for Complementary Care.

The Centre for Complementary Care is delighted to announce that they have a new Patron, who joined the existing patrons – The Right Reverend George Hacker, Patrick Gordon-Duff-Pennington, Harry Enfield and Peter Marshall – at the beginning of January.

Describing Aubrey Rose CBE DUniv as a remarkable man is rather like  describing Harry Enfield as ‘a bit of a joker’ – entirely true as far as it goes but a bit short on specifics.

Aubrey was born and raised in London’s East End, the son of Eastern European immigrants.  Starting as an articled clerk in a solicitor’s office in Leadenhall Street he eventually qualified as a solicitor at the age of 25 and went on to become on of this country’s leading human rights lawyers – sought out by Governments and shoplifters alike.  He was – amongst many other things – an advocate at the Scarman Tribunal, Senior Vice-President of the Board of Deputies of British Jews and Deputy Chairman of the Commission for Racial Equality.

He is also a respected interfaith leader – joint patron with Dr George Carey of the New Assembly of Churches, and even appointed “Ambassador for Islam” by a Paris-based organization, a rare honour for a Jew.

His long-standing interest in healing stems from the loss of his eldest son David to cancer in 1978 – and in August of last year he made the journey up from London specifically to be with us for our 20^th Anniversary celebrations.

After the celebrations, dozens of people asked us who ‘that lovely man’ was and that – combined with his enthusiasm for the work of the Centre – made it an obvious step to ask him if he would consider becoming a Patron.

We were delighted when he wrote back by return of post to say ‘Yes!’.

Aubrey very much intends to be a ‘hands-on’ Patron and will next be visiting us in May – when hopefully the weather will have improved a little …

—:oOo:—

(The photograph of Aubrey was taken at our 20-10 Birthday Party by our Centre Manager – you know – the one who always writes about herself in the third person …).

Eskdale Parish News – January

I’m supposed to post the Centre’s page in the Parish News here every month, but 9 times out of 10, I forget.  So – I’ve made a New Year Resolution that THIS year, I’ll remember.  It won’t make a blind bit of difference, of course – I’ll still forget, but hey – it’s the THOUGHT that counts, right?

Anyway, here is our January contribution to the Eskdale Parish News:

Oo:—

The Centre for Complementary Care

Now look, it wasn’t my fault.  All I said in the last Parish News was that we didn’t really care if it poured with rain for our Christmas Fair because we knew we were lucky to get away with a beautiful summer’s day for our Birthday Party.  I did NOT say anything like “Let it pour, let it pour, let it pour!”.  (Well actually, I DID – but then I thought better of it and deleted the unfortunate sentiment – and aren’t I jolly glad I did?).

It did, of course, pour for our Christmas Fair, and then just carried right on pouring, with far from funny results.

However, deluge notwithstanding, we still made over £600.00 on the day, mostly thanks to a quiet and relatively dry period just after lunch when all our faithful supporters, bless their good and kind hearts, all scuttled out from under cover to surge around, buy cakes and generally hand over their hard-earned pennies.

Thank you, one and all … we really DID appreciate it.

Shepley Engineering have been weaving their metal magic at the Chase again.  NOW – for the first time in many years – the rear courtyard has gates again.  They’re beautiful wrought iron ones, with a couple of special embellishments just for us – an unusual arch featuring the dogs that are disporting themselves across the top of our roadside sign AND two sweet little squirrels, down in the corner of each gate.  DO pop up and have a look at them – they’re an absolute joy.

—o—

Now, we have some slightly bizarre news with which to start 2010 – which some of you may already know. Remember our Centre Manager?  The slightly fierce, mouthy one who always writes about herself in the third person?  Well, it turns out she has a whole other life outside the Centre in which she helps run a book review website and because of that she’s been asked by the Romantic Novelists’ Association to be one of the three judges of the Romantic Novel of the Year Award. This involves a couple of all-expenses-paid trips to London and will probably also necessitate her not only  buying a pair of respectable shoes but also finding something to wear that she didn’t claw out of the jumble.

She’s vaguely embarrassed and a bit defensive about the whole thing, so if you should decide to pull her leg the next time you see her, you might like to check first that she doesn’t have a heavy object in her hand … like a very large romantic novel.

Oo:—