trippy dat at work and the moon in my seventh house
It's been a severely trippy day today.
Went off to work quite happily, ready for a day in the middle of the woods, sans make-up and head to toe in the standard issue National Trust branded clothing in a very un-fetching sludge colour (they only have sludge colours available, it's either sludge brown, sludge green, or a really sickly pale blue with sludge green decoration) and my trusty pink walking boots. The point of being make-up free and in brown clothing was mainly down to me expecting to spend the day getting very muddy and very rained on all day and having resigned myself to the fact for once. Usually I turn up all glamourous and then hobble around in unsuitable shoes, get very uncomfortable and arrive at the end of the day with smudged make-up and looking like glamour that's been dragged through a hedge backwards. Not today. Too much to be getting on with so I can have the weekend off to go see Durans in Liddy.
Went to do the volunteer run and deliver any waiting volunteers down to the Mill for the day's opening and as I drove past the car park I saw a fishing rod. We're a wildlife protection area, the people who run the resevoir up at the top are due to do a lot of fish counts at the moment to check the river quality and so basically fishing is a major no no, now more than ever. So I sighed, ground my teeth, reversed the land rover at great speed and pulled into the car park to question the small group of men armed with said fishing rod. Wandered over all official and full of bravado ready to defend our little woodland wildlife reserve and promptly went a bit wibbly. Managed to say hello to the group, but my brain was going a bit off track as it was processing information that seemed to be saying "the bloke with the fishing rod is Dean Andrews! ohmygod ohmygod". Now, I'm not one to go wibbly in the work place even when I worked at the theatre and the posh hotel and was inundated with nice musicians that I admired on a regular basis. But I don't expect to bump into anyone in the middle of the woods. ...except John Noakes, he appeared once. That was quite exciting. Honestly it was, we're of a very Blue Peter mindset in my workplace. Our caretaker's dream is to one day have our property featured on Blue Peter so he was out of his tree at that visit.
Anyway yes, back to the fishing group. Brain not functioning, not able to construct sentences, meant to be finding out where they're fishing and if they're allowed to be fishing. My initial question was going to be to ask if they were some part of the water board doing part of the fish checks. They did have a big net with them and all the usual gear but the fishing rod isn't normal for river checks. So imbetween trying to glance nonchalantly across to work out of it really was Mr Andrews I managed to stumble over my words and ask if they were part of a group - no - and where they were going weilding that erm, fishing erm erm (am looking in direction of fishing rod and bloke holding it, brain not functioning again) pole! The man who I was addressing in the group ribbed me a little that it was actually called a fishing rod. I know what it's damnwell called, it's just that my brain happens to be away with the fairies. Anyway, apparently they were heading downstream, so off our land, so basically I decided that was enough to make it no longer my juristiction so I excaped back to my vehicle and heade off to the Mill. Didn't get a chance to process if it was really dean cos the volunteer who;d been waiting in the vehicle kept chattering away to me and I was trying to get my brain back in gear to avoid crashing into a tree or driving off the edge of the track and plunging down the valley sharply towards the river.
Got the vehicle down to the Mill, drove past the Mill pond to park at the wood shed and could have sworn there were two men in the Mill pond. Grabbed some paperwork I was delivering, locked the land rover and headed towards the Mill and nearly dropped all the paperwork in the newly flooded wetland habitat area. As well as the two blokes in the mill pond there was now a ladder sticking up out of the water with a giant pink pig at the top of it. Turns out that the men in the water are our new exhbiting artists and this was one of their art installations. Made my way to reception, sat down and tried to make my head function. I think it was about an hour before I was convinced I wasn'ty dreaming and about to wake up.
...really wish I'd held it together a bit earlier on though and found out if it were Dean. Damn.
Am now home and veryvery tired and fuzzy headed. It's a new moon, and both new and full moons alwasy send me into a sleepy trance-like state. Just want to curl up and sleep, but have to wait for the washing machine to finish. *yawn* It seems that the moon is in my seventh house. Oh sodding joy, my favourite. :-( :-( And apparently Venus will be joining it tomorrow. Damn damn damn. Damn the seventh house, I don't do relationships, all planetary related items get out of my seventh house immediately!
Went off to work quite happily, ready for a day in the middle of the woods, sans make-up and head to toe in the standard issue National Trust branded clothing in a very un-fetching sludge colour (they only have sludge colours available, it's either sludge brown, sludge green, or a really sickly pale blue with sludge green decoration) and my trusty pink walking boots. The point of being make-up free and in brown clothing was mainly down to me expecting to spend the day getting very muddy and very rained on all day and having resigned myself to the fact for once. Usually I turn up all glamourous and then hobble around in unsuitable shoes, get very uncomfortable and arrive at the end of the day with smudged make-up and looking like glamour that's been dragged through a hedge backwards. Not today. Too much to be getting on with so I can have the weekend off to go see Durans in Liddy.
Went to do the volunteer run and deliver any waiting volunteers down to the Mill for the day's opening and as I drove past the car park I saw a fishing rod. We're a wildlife protection area, the people who run the resevoir up at the top are due to do a lot of fish counts at the moment to check the river quality and so basically fishing is a major no no, now more than ever. So I sighed, ground my teeth, reversed the land rover at great speed and pulled into the car park to question the small group of men armed with said fishing rod. Wandered over all official and full of bravado ready to defend our little woodland wildlife reserve and promptly went a bit wibbly. Managed to say hello to the group, but my brain was going a bit off track as it was processing information that seemed to be saying "the bloke with the fishing rod is Dean Andrews! ohmygod ohmygod". Now, I'm not one to go wibbly in the work place even when I worked at the theatre and the posh hotel and was inundated with nice musicians that I admired on a regular basis. But I don't expect to bump into anyone in the middle of the woods. ...except John Noakes, he appeared once. That was quite exciting. Honestly it was, we're of a very Blue Peter mindset in my workplace. Our caretaker's dream is to one day have our property featured on Blue Peter so he was out of his tree at that visit.
Anyway yes, back to the fishing group. Brain not functioning, not able to construct sentences, meant to be finding out where they're fishing and if they're allowed to be fishing. My initial question was going to be to ask if they were some part of the water board doing part of the fish checks. They did have a big net with them and all the usual gear but the fishing rod isn't normal for river checks. So imbetween trying to glance nonchalantly across to work out of it really was Mr Andrews I managed to stumble over my words and ask if they were part of a group - no - and where they were going weilding that erm, fishing erm erm (am looking in direction of fishing rod and bloke holding it, brain not functioning again) pole! The man who I was addressing in the group ribbed me a little that it was actually called a fishing rod. I know what it's damnwell called, it's just that my brain happens to be away with the fairies. Anyway, apparently they were heading downstream, so off our land, so basically I decided that was enough to make it no longer my juristiction so I excaped back to my vehicle and heade off to the Mill. Didn't get a chance to process if it was really dean cos the volunteer who;d been waiting in the vehicle kept chattering away to me and I was trying to get my brain back in gear to avoid crashing into a tree or driving off the edge of the track and plunging down the valley sharply towards the river.
Got the vehicle down to the Mill, drove past the Mill pond to park at the wood shed and could have sworn there were two men in the Mill pond. Grabbed some paperwork I was delivering, locked the land rover and headed towards the Mill and nearly dropped all the paperwork in the newly flooded wetland habitat area. As well as the two blokes in the mill pond there was now a ladder sticking up out of the water with a giant pink pig at the top of it. Turns out that the men in the water are our new exhbiting artists and this was one of their art installations. Made my way to reception, sat down and tried to make my head function. I think it was about an hour before I was convinced I wasn'ty dreaming and about to wake up.
...really wish I'd held it together a bit earlier on though and found out if it were Dean. Damn.
Am now home and veryvery tired and fuzzy headed. It's a new moon, and both new and full moons alwasy send me into a sleepy trance-like state. Just want to curl up and sleep, but have to wait for the washing machine to finish. *yawn* It seems that the moon is in my seventh house. Oh sodding joy, my favourite. :-( :-( And apparently Venus will be joining it tomorrow. Damn damn damn. Damn the seventh house, I don't do relationships, all planetary related items get out of my seventh house immediately!