If you've got time, stay and listen to my story...

I think I've known all of you long enough now that you may all remember this incident in September 2008, where my flat got flooded out after heavy rainfall.

( Yeah. Guess what.... )

I take Rowan to play football at a local community centre on Tuesday evenings and, while he's not very good just yet, he does enjoy it. We travel down with his friend Isaac in his mum's car these days, as both boys were starting to really hate the quick-march across the neighbourhood from school.

I can't say I relished it myself, so it's all good. Plus sometimes Jen offers to collect Rowan for me and meet me down there, which gives me more time if I have errands to run.

There's one kid who plays, I think his family comes from Portugal. It's usually his mother that takes him, but recently his father's been accompanying them too and he is a prize arsehole. He's always on his son's back about his performance, and frequently remarks at other parents if he thinks their younger kids are running amok too close to the 'pitch' (read: right at the feet of the parents) Jen and I frequently roll our eyes about it.

Today, he tried to give a 'pep-talk' to one lad - not much more than eight years old, if that - who'd gotten knocked and was a bit tearful. I thought I heard him make some comment about how football is for men, not women, but I chose to overlook it, thinking I'd perhaps misheard him.

Later on, Rowan gets a bit upset himself at some unexpected contact with the ball. I personally thought he was overreacting, but I called him over for a cuddle nonetheless; this guy then starts on at us about how football is for men, not women.

Well. Jen and I gave him filthy looks, then refused to pay him anymore attention.

I think the point he was trying to make is that it's not a sport for wimps and crybabies, but for fucks sake! I don't care if his English is poor or whatever, you never say something like that - particularly to a child's mother. I could have slapped him one, and Jen had to restrain herself from giving him an earful.

At the end of the session, he was having some sort of arguement with Michelle, one of the young women who oversee the kids during the session (Yes that's right, it's run mostly by women). I can't believe how over the top this wanker gets - these are small children just having a kick around, not the national team's training camp! This is just supposed to be a fun way to provide some exercise for the kids.

You gotta feel sorry for his son, and his wife who fled the building and waited outside for them...

If he's still keeping up this bullshit, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if Jen loses her cool with him. She said in the car that her husband certainly would have had a few words to say, and he's one of the most placid guys I know.

On a happier note, Isaac's little brother Aaron got up the courage to take his first penalty kick at the end of the session today! *grins* He's such a cutie.

....including my carpets.

Yep, that's right, my carpets. I hadn't long done my post from last night about the really heavy rain outside, when I put my foot down from its resting place on an old CPU casing....into about an inch of water.

In the space of half an hour, water had gotten in through the patio door in the living room, and the front door (having gotten into the building underneath the security door outside) and covered the entire flat!

A couple of minutes after I realised this, while I was trying to get through to the Council's emergency repair line, the water must have gotten into the extension plug my tv equipment is plugged into, and everything but the lights went off. I'm assuming (I haven't checked at this point) that the breaker for my power points got tripped - a good thing, or I'd have been dealing with a fire too. Thankfully the lighting's on a separate breaker, or I'd have been squelching through the water to fetch the torch out of the hall cupboard.

I had problems getting hold of my parents initially, as they'd gone to bed (it was almost ten pm at this point), so I had to go get my upstairs neighbour so I could get Rowan out of the flat. The poor love didn't want to wake up though - kept trying to burrow under the duvet despite my insistence that this was an emergency. It was our neighbour also calling his name that finally got through the sleepy haze. *chuckles* I did manage to get hold of Dad soon after, and Mam was able to come get him for me. I then had to having around for the council's emergency team to come inspect the damage - by this time the water had mostly receeded.

The problem was - as some of you may recall - that every time we get a really major rainfall, there's a good chance the drains outside the flat will overflow, and I get a small moat around my flat. But the water's never actually risen high enough to get inside - until now...

My insurers are sending someone around 'soon' to inspect everything, and a firm's been assigned to see if my carpets and furniture can be salvaged - my instincts say no. My carpets are completely sodden, and my bookcases are IKEA mdf which is bound to have taken in water. Rowan's Playstation's going to be a write-off, as it was on the carpet, and there's a chance my VCR is too - not sure about the TV, cable box or DVD player (god I hope not, it's multiregional!) as I don't know what damage might have been done to the plugs via the extension lead). I'm pretty sure I've also lost my laptop, as it was stood up against the wall behind the sofa since I was using the desktop last night.

The kitchen...I dunno. The floor can be washed, but the water will have gotten underneath the units. The vacuum cleaner's probably also a write-off, as are the contents of the fridge-freezer (which, thank god, I hadn't got much in, after that last incident with the freezer).

Most of Rowan's toys are perfectly safe, as I was storing them in plastic crates (I'll be getting more of those in, trust me!) though his bedroom furniture's a little dubious. As are mine. And I've a horrid feeling there were a couple of boxes of comics on my floor... :-(

And I don't want to think about my cupboard outside the flat.

I think we can safely conclude that my Friday ultimately blew hard, no?

So, for the time being, we're camping out at my parents' place; me, Rowan, the cat and the fish. Fun times, but I am grateful we had someplace we could go, or we'd have ended up in the council's 'doss house' for however long this takes to get sorted. I have to call the Council's repair line again first thing monday morning - which means time off work for me.

So...while I do have limited net access, thanks to my mam's laptop, I'm likely not going to be around for a while. Don't be too exciting, yeah? ;-)

....I have no words.

I swear, the DNN radio news network is appalling! *shakes head in bemusement* I know Welsh is tricky for non-speakers - especially those who don't live in the country - but some of the mistakes they make are unbelievable!

Tonight's example: There was just a news item about Ian McKellan doing a remake of The Prisoner, and the newsreader happily declared that the original series was filmed in Port Marie-On!

It's Port-My-Ree-On you numpties! Do some bloody research before you record these things, so you don't make yourselves look like complete pillocks!

*exhales*

Ddu dda...

Okay, play.com...

You think you can offer the season two boxset of Torchwood for £14.99 and then go "Oops, sorry! It was a typo!" three working days later?

I DON'T THINK SO!

*cracks knuckles*

I had a dream this morning, which freaked me out a little. As much for the fact I remember it, than for the content, as I never seem to remember my dreams lately.

( Cut for rambling )

Can't have taken more than ten minutes to dream all this, though, as Rowan was only half asleep and kept wriggling and trying to talk to me even though he insisted he wanted to sleep. I was grumpy with him as Sunday is now my only day when I can get away with sleeping beyond seven thirty. We now have to be out of the house by that time on Saturdays in order to get him to his swimming lesson. *sigh* Me and early mornings do not mix well, and it wasn't especially pleasant to walk to the leisure centre before the sun had risen yesterday morning.

The swimming lesson seemed to go alright, though he's unsure about if he's going to enjoy continuing. We then hung around in the cafe eating chips till it was time to go upstairs for his dance class. After that it was another day with my mother, and we had to go get a gift for one of his school friends as he's off to a birthday party this afternoon. Right now he's listening to the tv with my headphones on, and looks like he's getting ready to play on his playstation for a bit; he's getting pretty good on Surfs Up, and he bought himself a new game based on the movie Cars last week. *grins* Me, I can only handle the High School Musical singing game - I spent hours the other night unlocking as many of the extra songs as I could, now we have a memory card - and I've finally figured out how to play the DS version too! *laughs*

Apparently my estranged husband considers keeping an eye on a new, not-yet-housebroken puppy more important that visiting with his son tomorrow.

Words fail me.

I 'keep forgetting' to turn my phone off when I'm at work, especially with Rowan at that sports camp where they may need to get hold of me in the course of the day.

Just at the end of my lunchbreak, my phone starts vibrating in my pocket so I check who's calling me and it's a Cardiff number I don't recognise. There's no way I can answer the phone while sat at my desk, and I wouldn't get to the foyer in time to answer before it gets to voicemail, so I let it ring off. There's a message left for me, and I don't have any calltime so I can't listen to it, so I asked permission to call back from my desk (having to admit that I'd 'forgotten' to turn my phone off).

Naturally my boss says yes, since it could be about Rowan, but the number's engaged. This often happens within businesses and organisations, so you can't call them directly back, so I had to ask if I could nip to Boots to get some calltime.

So, after waiting in the middle of the lunchtime queue, I call my voicemail and it's only one of the other mums from Rowan's school! *headsdesk* All she wanted was to see if we'd be interested in seeing The Gruffalo's Child at the New Theatre, as she's organising yet another of her a group trips.

She normally texts us all about these things. *scowls*

Not happy.

Two of the guys on my pod just instigated the 'sandwich challenge'. There's a facility on the company intranet to order sandwiches from the canteen for delivery to your desk, and they decided to order for each other the grossest combinations they could think of.

I can't remember what they ordered, exactly, but there was peanut butter and blue cheese in one, and marmite and avacado in the other...*shudders* Justin managed to eat his, but Dave couldn't finish his - so Justin wins *chuckles*

I'll be over here eating my nice, normal cheese and cucumber sarnies, ta.

However, I did discover from this that I could order peanut butter and banana sandwiches if I chose to - which is very much of the yay!