Not been posting much in here lately – way too much work. We’ve foolishly agreed to produce a desk diary version of the Elfin Diary and it’s proving more tricky than we thought (we’re doing it in the Adobe Pagemaker DTP program that I always use for the Diary – Brian is supposed to be doing it, but he hates the program, swears he can’t handle it, so I’ve ended up with the job; sigh…). Plus, I’ve got to redesign the Elfin website, putting in the Netbanx shop page. And, as usual, Caro wants me to fill it with big photos and her own twiddly graphics, all of which will have to be optimised. Plus, I’m still deep into the Oakleaf Circle redesign. But I’ve got most of it done now – I just have to finish putting in the new navigation on all the pages. Hopefully, that will be done by tommorrow and I can finally upload it.
The weather’s been beautiful here and this area isprobably at its best in early summer, with fresh green grass and flowers bursting everywhere. So I wish I had more time for walks!
Last Friday was Graham’s 40th birthday, and he had a surprise birthday party at his sister’s house. Carol, John, Pauline & I went up there for the night. She lives about 60 miles away, on the Solway Firth. She has a wonderful house – halfway up a wooded hillside overlooking the Firth with uninterrupted views; there’s a stream running through her garden with a small natural waterfall, and it backs on to a private forest, with access. The only real drawback of the place is that it’s only about 100 yards from the major A-road that runs to Stranraer and all the other ports, so that you get a backgound rumble of traffic all the time.
The party was OK – quite a few people turned up and we all sat ouside around a bonfire. But there was an awful lot of whiskey going around – I stuck to my rhubarb wine – with one man in particular, a kilted Scot, getting really obnoxious and loud. I no longer like parties where everyone gets off thei heads and create noise; I prefore to talk and listen. So, eventually, I made my excuses and crashed into bed well before any of the others. I got off to sleep OK, but was soon woken up by strange scratchings and sqeakings from under the bed; it was the cat, Rosie, and her three tiny kittens. Alarmed by all the people and noise, she had taken them from their box in the kitchen and bought them to where she thought they’d be safe. There was no heating, the night was cold (I had most of my clothes on) and I was worried that the kittens would get hyperthermia. In any case, they wouldn’t stay under the bed, but were crawling around in search of mum, who was very agitated and had left them to prowl around the rest of the house. So I picked them all up and cuddled them into my sleeping bag for a while. Then the others came to bed – John very much the worse for wear – Carol took the kittens back to their box and persuaded Rosie to stay there.
It was probably around 3 am before everyone got off to sleep. I woke up abut four hours later, and crept out to get a morning cup of tea. I made up for my unsociability the night before by tackling the mounds of washing-up, with the intention of going for a walk through the woods after. But by then, most other people were up and telling me what I’d missed – the obnoxiously drunken Scot had finally collapsed into the bonfire and set his kilt alight! Luckily, he only had a few scorches.
Still, not many people have their birthday party enlivened with a display of burning kilts!