*is being typically British and talking about the weather*

It's freezing here in Cardiff. We had a so-so summer, with only a few really nice days dotted here and there, and a fairly mild winter so far. Technically speaking, winter generally runs from mid-November until early March, but in this part of the country we have one week of autumn sandwiched between summer and winter, so winter starts earlier.

So far we've had enough rain to replenish the Atlantic ocean. Or so it seems. I can usually forget all about the length of the grass in my front garden between October and April, because it never rises above four inches or so. Not so, this year.  I actually have real green grass in my front garden at the moment (though the back garden still looks like a dying Sherwood Forest). It looks like it will have to be cut again, which is unheard of this side of Christmas,

Still, as I say, it has been exceptionally mild this winter so far. Right up until last weekend. Since Sunday, we have had nothing but rain, wind, and more rain. Of course, it always rains on a Tuesday, because that is the day when I do my weekly grocery shop and have to take a trip into Canton (the nearest shopping area to me). Said trip involves a bus journey, and a fair bit of walking around between the shops that I frequent in my weekly search for a bargain. So of course, it has to rain on a Tuesday, because that is when I am out and about. I call it Tara-Karma (which means nothing works in my favour). Other days of the week are obviously perfectly suited to shopping expeditions (unless I do my shopping on a Wednesday, which of course means that Tuesday is dry, and Wednesday is wet. Very wet).

Anywho, as I was saying, nothing but rain and wind since the weekend. And it's suddenly turned colder than that forgotten bottle of beer at the bottom of the freezer (you know the one, the bottle that you stash when you get home from work in readiness for drinking an hour or so later, only an hour or so later you are eating a meal and have forgotten all about that bottle of beer you stashed so diligently).

And when I say cold, I really mean freezing. Or, as we Taffies like to say, freeeez -en (with emphasis on the 'r', almost a purr, you understand). I have the central heating turned on full, the gas fire burning merrily, and am wearing a cardigan that is possible older than God, but still I am not properly warm. Brrr.

But I actually don't mind the cold. It's much easier to get warm than it is to cool down. I'm one of those miserable people who hates the summer. And I do mean hate. If the sun is shining, you can guarantee that I will be cranky. Everything is just so much more of an effort when it is warm. The walk back from the school every day exhausts me. And I drink so much water that I spend half of the summer having a wee (sorry if that's too much information *snorts*). And if that's not enough reason to dislike summer, then there's also the fact that no matter how many windows you have open, how little you wear to bed, and how high the setting on the fan is, you're still going to feel like you are being cooked when you are trying to get to sleep.

This is why I don't mind the cold. It could be colder than a deep-freeze outside, with the wind blowing a gale, and the rain coming at you from all directions (including upwards, if you live around here), but when you get home you can forget about it. You can make a hot drink, pull the sofa up to the fire, and warm your frozen toes. And if your ancient cardi and heating sources aren't enough, you can grab your duvet and huddle into its coziness.

As an added bonus, if, like me, you are one of those people who puts their Christmas tree up a little on the early side *shifty*, you can also enjoy the wonderful glow that the tree lights bestow on your room of an evening. All year round, the room is just a room, plainly decorated with the obligatory pieces of furniture in their allotted spaces. Now that I've put my tree up, the room is transformed. In the daytime, it's still just a room, but as soon as its dark (around about 4pm now), we have lovely sparkly reflections on our otherwise drab walls, making the room look a little bit like a festive disco.  Although there is no heat coming from the tree, the room feels infinitely warmer.

So yes, I guess you could say that I love winter. I'd happily agree to eleven months of winter every single year, with one month of summer-ness for the kids to enjoy. Although, when I think about it, we get that already....

*is proud to say she is googleable*

I impressed a couple of friends last night. An unexpected night of wine and beer (wine for the girls, beer for the boys, fun for everyone) turned into a laugh-a-minute heap of hilarity.  The added bonuses of a) the daughter sleeping over her auntie's house, and b) friends bringing their son over with them  (keeping our own son entertained) meant that the four adults could have fun and be pretty much undisturbed.

The beer cans kept lining up, the wine flowed nicely, and much was talked about. The obligatory catch-up (we live literally ten seconds away from each other, but haven't had a proper catch-up for ages), Christmas, what the kids are up to, Christmas, daily struggles with paying bills, Christmas.... well, you get the idea.

Of course, with our main computer hooked up to our TV, and with said TV being 42" and the focal point of the room, we inevitably ended up on the internet.  My friend informed me that she has been reading my blog off an on, which surprised me because, well, there's not really a reason, I was just surprised (but happily so).  Somehow we got onto the subject of how she gets access to it, and said that she wished there was an easier way other than via Facebook.

Now, I discovered something wonderful last week. If you type 'wobbly sausage' into Google search, you'll get my blog on the first page. I'm varying between  #1 and  #4, but I'm there all the same. I love the fact that wobbly sausages are leading almost directly to me. *snorts*  And friends were 'well impressed' that I was googleable (possibly their enthusiasm might have had something to do with alcohol consumption, but that's not really important).

Of course, what with me being a lightweight when it comes to alcohol - a very little makes me a very lot drunk - I was well on my way to Drunksville after only two glasses. At this point, we had bypassed wobbly sausages (shame), laughed a little about Taffisms (wotyoudooooen?), remembered that Taff boys were 'clarts' and Taff girls was 'clits' (I'll blog about that another time), and were delving through Youtube.

Youtube is an excellent way to spend an evening when you are drinking. *nods* You have humour (video of Rainbow (British TV show from yonks ago aimed at kids) that mentions twangers, plucking instruments and playing with your friend's balls amongst other such gems), insanity (those two guys miming to 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight). nostalgia (music from the 80's), and well, pretty much everything.

The boys enjoyed Sex Pistols, The Killers, and videos of break dancing, and for the girls' entertainment we had Pet Shop Boys, OMD, and cheesy songs to (badly) sing along to (Grease's 'Summer Nights' being a highlight, especially that bit at the end when you can scream 'niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight').

On a related note, there could very well be a new video on Youtube (or possibly Facebook) very soon. *shifty* Both hubbies (er, my hubby and friend's hubby, that is, I only have one husband) recorded our singalong sessions from time to time. Now, this is rather disturbing because a) I can't sing, b) I can't dance, and c) I was drunk. (although to be fair, it is only because of c) that I didn't immediately hide behind a cushion when the camera got pulled out). I seem to remember enthusiastically singing along to 'Sweet Transvestite' (from the sublime Rocky Horror Picture Show), and am slightly worried that this could potentially be seen by a LOT of people.

Still, it was a good night. I got drunk, caught up with some friends, scared the son with my singing skills, and gave the hubby blackmailing options. Not to mention impressing people with my googleability. Successful night all round, I'd say.

*hic*

Hi everybody! Tara couldn't be here today, so she's asked me to fill in for her. Let me introduce myself - my name is Bud, and I'm your friendly neighborhood bottle of beer. Tara told me all about Ana, who is apparently a big fan of beer and wanted Tara to blog about it. In the absence of Tara, I thought I'd just tell you a little bit about myself.

At the moment I'm chilling  (We bottles of beer are always better when we are cold). The ladies certainly prefer us that way, though that might have something to do with the way the condensation trickles down our necks (I've noticed how all you ladies like to lick the trickle, so don't try to deny it).

Speaking of licking, I have a fond memory from my pre-bottlehood. Before we reach maturity, we beerfolk usually reside in a glass and only move in to our bottles when we reach a certain age. I remember when I was a mere few years old, and I had my first date. Man, that woman was CHILLING! Just the right temperature, especially for a young beer like myself. I popped her lid and she licked my frothy head for hours....

*coughs* Sorry about that, I was lost in memories.

Nowadays, I don't really date. I prefer a night out with the lads - all 23 of them. Nothing like a full case of beer to get the party started, eh? Here's a picture from one of my most recent nights on the tiles. Boy, let me tell you, we had our lids popped and necks licked for hours that night, it was banging!

Of course, the following morning wasn't so clever.... somehow we'd ended up taking the party to a local field. We got picked up by I don't know how many people, and by the morning we were all pretty wiped out. It's lucky we were all together, though there was a sticky moment when the local bobby tried locking us up. I mean, he threatened the recycling bin for us! We were so lucky it was our first offence. Phew!


Of course, we beerfolk like to get out and about on most weekends, and sometimes during the week too. It really all depends on the boys, some of them have other interests. Between you and me, some of them have interests that completely baffle me, if you know what I mean. Take this lot, I mean, look at the state of them! A real beer bottle would never dream of wearing clothing, it's just not right. Not to mention the cross-dressing...  *rolls eyes* Beer bottles are meant to be naked.

Anyway, I' really need to get back to my fridge, I've got a big party to get to tonight. I hope I've entertained you with these little details of a beer bottle's life, and if not, then you obviously need to have a beer!  I'll be chilling for the next few hours, but after that, you're more than welcome to pop my lid and lick my neck. I promise you'll get as much joy as me. *winks cheekily*

 

Toodle-loo!