Job Things

Well work is ace and it appears I might even get a money increase due to my obviously enchanting nature which is rather lovely...

What's even nicer is that apparently all the other people that applied were as qualified as me, 1 had an MA and 2 even had PhD's. But they chose me over everyone else because I was the most 'likeable'. I had considered that maybe I was picked because I was by far and away the most qualifed - I mean who else with my qualifications would apply for a job with such bad pay?

Well it seems lots of people did. And all with the same idea as me; to use it as a stepping stone into the environmental industry.

So yes, today my job involved well, lessee, a little meeting in the morning, replying to some letters from local residents and then a lovely 4 hour walk around the Stonehenge site looking at the impact the application could make.

Bother. What a chore.

And when I come home, when I come home there's an angel waiting for me who kisses me and sings beautiful things to me and who writes delightful poetry. "Darlink, the voice of an angel" in every way.

It makes me want to dance and weep with the loveliness of it all and I never want it to end.

On Shortly Returning To The Working World.

I've got a job! (Well I have subject to references and all that palaver). I shall soon be working out a six month contract as part of the special planning team responsible for overseeing the planning application for the redevelopment of the Stonehenge site.

Which is exciting.

It's appalling money - even less than I am getting on benefit (I can't quite work out how that's legally possible, but still) because it's part funded by English Heritage.

So part of my job will be to field all the complaints, enquiries, comments and general kerfuffle from local residents, druids, politicians, environmental groups and basically everyone with a point that a project application like the Stonehenge one generates.

I'm really looking forward to it, not in the least because there is no ideal solution to the current problem which is as follows:

The visitor centre and welcome area is basically completely shit, the current A303 road runs directly to past side of the site and another local road runs directly past the other. This is not good for the monument itself or for the visitors who come to see it. The idea is to re-route the A303 underground (and widen it in the process) rebuild the visitor centre 3 miles away, close off the local road and bus visitors to the site itself. But some people say all the land around the site is sacred and shouldn't be interefered with, some people say re-routing the road is just a sneaky way of beginning the process of building a motorway to the South West, some people will object to the new location of the visitor centre and some will object to the closure of the local road. Some will object to the cost, some will object to the noise and upset and some will object just because they like writing stroppy letters to governmental bodies.

Currently, I have no definite opinion on it. I am just glad to be part of the team who is working on deciding about it, because it's a site that really, really matters to me.

So Yay for me. I feel very proud of myself for getting it.

Raindrops On Roses and Kettle With Noses And Other Lovely Things...

So we're busy chopping the long limbs off trees and I'm balancing precariously up a ladder trying to saw the branch off an overgrown Ash, and then Harry offers to help. He wants to hold the ladder.

"No," says my Mum, "Your Mummy shouldn't really be balancing like that at all, and I have to hold the ladder very still. But you know what? I wish you could make us a cup of tea."

Tea! Oh please, bring me tea!" I say, and we both laugh.

But Harry says, "I can! I can do that! Can I try? Mummy? Can I try?"

"Well," I say, "I suppose you can put the kettle on, that would help."

"Cool!" Says Harry, "What do I do?"

"Go into the kitchen," I say, "Get the kettle, fill it about half full with water and then put it back on the base and switch the red switch on."

So off he goes, and he's gone a while and then he comes back and he says, "Mummy, where do I put the water? Does it go in its nose?"

And my Mum and I crease up at the idea of the kettle having a nose.

And I say, "Yes, it goes in the nose."

So off he goes again, and then he comes back and he says, "I've done it. But Mummy, why were you laughing at me?"

So I tell him, "We weren't laughing at you my love, we were just laughing because you called the bit where the water comes out a 'nose'. It was cute. It was funny. But the actual proper word for it is a spout."

"Oh." He says. "Spout."

And you can see him thinking.

And then he says, "What, like dogs have, instead of a nose? A spout like them?"

And I practically fall off the ladder I'm laughing so much.

***

Nose?
Spout?
Snout?
It's all much the same really, and to be honest I far prefer the idea that my kettle has a nose and my dog has a spout. It makes the world a much more interesting place to be. Don't you think?

Officially My Bestest Ever Joke.

A chicken and a frog are in the library. As the chicken walks along the shelves he goes, "Book, book, book."

The frog follows behind going, "Readit, readit, readit."


The beautiful man told me that.