Tag Archives: husband

The Day We All Learnt to Fly

The Day We All Learnt to Fly

Since I’ve started to read books from library once again I also have had to start to pay attention to the dates I need to return them – or else. (Or else its one pound per book per day, that quite makes me keep the dates.)
Today was, quite unfortunately, the last day I had available to go up to the Byker branch and return four books I’ve borrowed from there (or else), hence I had to go even if the weather forecast had been such as falling llamas; I have to say that it’s really close to that, though – looking from the window and remembering the flying on my newly grown wings (made from jilbab).
Very, very unpleasant wind and losing balance in it with my plus minus 60 kg I can’t really imagine how my 12 kg daughter felt like – but she surely grabbed on my hand often very tightly. Uncommon in these days of “ME MYSELF!”, but not as shocking considering the flying trash cans in the back streets.
So, whoever always dreamt of flying without wings – come up to Newcastle today, we guarantee you a really exciting experience! (Try to avoid a head bump to a double-decker, I dare you.)

PS.: Very essenatial information for most people (sarcasm alert) – the photography is taken with my brand new again-older-than-me lens I’ve purchased on eBay. Smc Pentax-M 28mm, f/2.8. On DSLR not really a wide angle, but I’m learning to co-op with it. And I’m starting to love it as my new-old 50mm. God bless Pentax for making cameras able to mount very old lenses on very new bodies!

Morning Walk and Recent Days

Yeah. I won the fight with my laziness (and migraines) and actually took my butt outta the pit of our house, to take Dori on a walk, and we decided to go to the sea. No big traveling, just 20 minutes by metro to the seaside.
Due to early hours of the day (at least for Britain) and the fact it was Monday, most of the places were empty – best time of day for me, personally.
We had some fun on the beach, Dori exploring something quite new for her (and she started to like the waves too much, for the weather it was, I say), me just having fun with camera after a while I didn’t take any pictures at all. Wasn’t in the right mood for that, I guess.

Dori at the Beach

Virgin Media: Powerful Incompetence

The internet service provider for a big part of Britain has a widely spread advertisement: Powerful Stuff.
It promises broadband of nice download limits (we personally pay for XL package, supposedly 20Mb which we never got, but, oh well), nice upload, TV and phone line; package of powerful stuff.
We bought it – and started to use XL package, 20Mb download, not so bad fair user policy.
Virgin was serving ok for nearly two years. Occasional problems with lag usually solved in few hours.
But…
When a problem occurred, Virgin has shown it’s real face.
Crap support, crap service, crap excuses.
Our internet connection is literally worse than dial-up for about a month already. It randomly even disconnects, just for sure. Pings to close servers end up in time outs mostly. When they manage to go through, the show catastrophic numbers of 1000+ ping within the island, package loss in most of the cases over 10%.
First call, maintenance.
When the imaginative maintenance of some incompetent support member passed by and our internet still sucked, we gave them a second call.
Second call, too much students in the area.
Yeah, right. And last year Newcastle didn’t have a student in town. Bull-poo. If you can’t have a server which can support enough people on 20Mb per household, don’t  offer it! That is suable false advertisement and cancellation is for free. Because you fail to deliver something you agreed to provide in the contract. We pay money, you give us service. Not like now – we pay money and you messed up, but you won’t admit it.
Third call was already clear – just another bull-poo about another imaginative maintenance to shut us up, the usual round of making excuses about our end of line (trace route show else, you stupid *bleep*).
Fourth call will be only for one purpose.
We are changing ISP.

Ayayayay

So… today, in about half an hour, we (me and my daughter) leave to Czech. Wow, after a year, I don’t even know if I recognize my country anymore. :)
Wish me luck!
(And to my beloved husband, who leaves right after me, tomorrow, back to Kuwait.)
Holidays, thrice hurray.

Myšlenky slunečného dne, tolik netypického pro severovýchodní pobřezí Británie

Když se ráno konečně vyhrabu z útulných hloubek postele, ještě zahřáté teplem těla manžela a jeho vůní, zjistím jedním zběžným pohledem z (jediného) okna obývacího pokoje, že je další slunečný, neuvěřitelně neanglický den. Slunce pere jak o život, nebe azurově modré bez mráčku, všudypřítomný vánek od moře se uklidnil a ve vzduchu je jen nádech soli, který k nám donesli racci bloudící od pár kilometrů vzdáleného pobřeží.
Pohled do nemilosrdného zrcadla mne ovšem ihned ujistí, že nikam mezi lidi dnes nejdu – má hormonální hladina je stálá jak moře před tsunami a s obličejem, který na mně v odrazu šokovaně zírá, mě mezi ostatní lidi nevyženou ani ručně pleteným bičem.
V malé lednici, sedící v rohu kuchyně, nemáme skoro žádné jídlo; ale já radši umřu hlady, než se objevit na veřejnosti s obličejem jak beruška po náletu šíleného malíře – a k niqábu, kousku látky nošené přes nos, jsem se ještě nedostala. S brýlemi je to, koneckonců, nepraktické, pokud nežijete na poušti. Brýle se totiž snadno zamlží a potom jsou vtipy o niqábi řidičkách stoprocentní pravdou.
A doufám, že se k niqábu ani nikdy nedostanu, dokážu si představit Aboodyho křepčícího vedle mne a pokřikujícího na mně “ninja queen”… ne, děkuji. Doma budu.
Po pár hodinách neklidného sezení na gauči je mi mého rozhodnutí líto, musím se jít do koupelny znovu přesvědčit, že bez plného šátku nikam nejdu a ten nenosím, tudíž ne, ne a ne.
Po nějaké chvíli otevřu alespoň všechna okna bytu, dokořán; vůně téměř-léta zaplní byt a já si jdu raději udělat kafe, doufajíc, že vůně mletých zrnek kávy přebije čerstvý vzduch a dá mi zapomenout. Nemožné dny, říkám si, vsadím se, že až zítra vylezeme před dům a zamíříme na Parent-Toddler Group, bude hnusně. Chimney day. Tak je to vždycky, ne?
Nakonec se vzdávám myšlence na slunění se – jak dlouho jsem nevystavila svou bílou, manželem tolik ceněnou pokožku teplým, hřejivým paprskům slunce? Dlouho, dlouho; dva roky nejméně.