Month: April 2015

I haven’t done one of these posts for a while… probably because I got sick and tired of all those ‘frugal’ blogs… but, well, I’ve found a few good offers you may not know about…

1. For those of you with nasty smart phones that aren’t that bright when it comes to energy management, provided that you are a mobile or broadbank customer with EE/Orange/T-Mobile
   from tomorrow you can get a free portable energy pack (which you can recharge yourself after use, or swap at any EE shop for a fully charged one).

2. But, if you are on EE, after you’ve grabbed this offer, may I suggest you look seriously at GiggGaff? It runs on the O2 network but is much cheaper as a SIM-only package, particularly if there are two or more of you who regularly make mobile calls to each other as all GiggGaff to GiffGaff calls are free. Use that link and you get £5 extra credit, and so do I. You can port your existing number (very easily) and I can honestly say that I have have never had such excellent customer service form any phone company. Tech support is provided by ‘the community’ (nerdy users, who get free airtime for answering community queries – loads better than Indians in call centres with bad English and poor understanding and knowledge) and financial support by an employed email team (in the UK) who answer queries, and put right issues, faster than you can send them email!
3. Given that a major factor in our successful ‘retire by 50’ strategy was that we paid off our mortgage by stoozing using an offset mortgage account (as well as other high-interest savings accounts – some at 8% interest; those were the days – when we’d filled that with money borrowed at 0%, no fee), I am delighted to find that I was a better stoozer than the best MSE knows about.
   

   “In stoozing’s heyday, the amounts people could get were huge, with the biggest stooze-pot we heard about being £80,000 of 0% credit card debt (multiple cards, continually rolling onto 0% deals) which saved that stoozer nearly £5,000 a year as the money was offset in his flexible mortgage.”

   He made just five grand a year? Amateur.
   It scares me stupid, now, to think about the amounts we were playing with. But, it served its purpose. BUT despite what the linked article says, I would not play the stoozing game again now, as, with interest rates as low as they are, it is totally impossible to make enough money to justify the time it takes, and the risks to your credit rating if you mess up payment dates (or get carried away and spend rather than save what you borrow).
   It does rather irk me that stoozing was absolutely NOT something that Martin MSE invented, or even promoted back then, despite his attempting to now claim credit for it at the end of the linked article. This gives a much better history, and the true date of when it started – around 2003-4. IIRC (and I’m fairly certain I do), in ‘early 2000’, Martin was still not known, and was annoying posters on the Motley Fool discussion boards (with his ‘gatecrashing’ posts), and not ‘broadcasting about this technique’ as he now claims.

4. And a final one… this time from my own inbox… if you go to this website, you can buy a free pack of 3 National Trust greetings cards, each containing a voucher that entitles you to a pot of tea for two at most major NT attractions, for just the delivery charge (£1.49). 50p per card wouldn’t be bad (they’re £2.99 each in WH Smith and National Trust gift shops), but a pot of tea for two is probably about £3.50, so that’s a tenner’s worth of free tea, plus 3 nice cards, for £1.49.
   

   “How to obtain your free pack:
   1. Visit our homepage, www.pinkandgreene.com. Click ‘Packs’ then ‘National Trust’.
   2. Add a National Trust Taster Pack to your basket, (plus any other items you wish to order).
   3. Checkout. Type TASTER in the voucher code box on the shopping basket page and click ‘Apply’. A £5.49 discount will be applied.
   Terms and conditions:
   One free pack per customer. The offer is valid until 18th April, 2015 and cannot be used with any other discount. Free delivery for orders of £10 or more. You are welcome to forward this offer to family and friends”

The sun has been out again today. My crown imperials are starting to come out:

That last photo was for those who don’t like kittens.
The next two are to prove how hard it is to photograph two day old kittens:


Their mummy came and grabbed one of the white ones from us, and, grasping it firmly in her jaws by the scruff of its neck, started to take it on her tortuous route back to the feline maternity hospital: jump onto Mi1dred’s bonnet, jump onto Mi1dred’s roof, jump onto the top of a set of sheves, run around the brick top of the walls, across some rafters, avoiding some hanging hooks. We had to wrestle it back. It may have been the same one that Mr BW saved from death yesterday by warming it in his hands as he found it, freezing cold, after she’d managed to lose it.
First room now washed, painted, soft furnishings all washed (or dry cleaned and very badly pressed), carpet washed, and all fully reassembled. Bored with repainting now (and I didn’t do any of the actual painting). Which is a shame, really, as there is a lot more to do.
Cleaner BW will be here tomorrow. I fear for her ability to do her job without unwanted ‘help’ of a ‘grubby hands/footprints/need some tea/need the toilet even though you are just cleaning where I want to be’ nature, as I shall be out with some of my Rotating Ladies.
Mr BW has retired. I am exhausted. It’s hard work keeping one step ahead of his speed…

Mr BW, happily rejoicing in the news that there isn’t to be a local election (*breathes sigh of relief at the work that will save, and that the BW Party continues to have a local councillor*) has risked life and limb and climbed up a ladder and ferreted in the workshop rafters to bring you some photos.
Apparently there are 5 kittens, rather than 4 as he thought earlier – 3 white cats with tiny black patches and two black with white:

And the current favourite (who gets to stay if it is a girl):

Things have come full circle: when we ‘inherited’ our first cat, to control mice and rats soon after we moved here, nearly 20 years ago (10,000 acres of arable land behind us made it essential), she was a black and white, and we haven’t had a black and white again until now.
If you’ve got them, flaunt them 😉

My suspicions were correct… as I said on 3rd February,

“So, I did another spell, for enough snow to make a Snow Cat, but all that succeeded in doing was producing an ugly bruiser of a white tom cat – who we’d never seen before – and who proceeded to chase my girls. I guess it will add variation to the next batch…”

By my counting, the kittens were due last Saturday, and I was rather hoping that they’d be born on Tuesday, but they weren’t. We saw Youngest Feline yesterday morning, still fat, so they were born sometime yesterday or in the early hours: Mr BW tells me that we now have 4 more mouths to feed.
Two black and white, and two white and black.
I haven’t seen them either, as they are in the usual feline maternity ward – the furthest reaches of the workshop rafters…
Regular readers may recall that the older two black cats (who we homed as rescue kittens from a private source) each had kittens on Easter Sunday 2014. They then proceeded to share responsibility for raising the 9 kittens, and then had a trip to the vet. Current Mum is the only one of the all-black 9 that we still have (we gave 7 away to what we hope were good homes, and one suffered the usual ‘instant death by speeding motorist’ last autumn – replacement purposes are the only reason we allow one young female to breed: the local cat charities won’t rehome to anyone who lives anywhere other than on a housing estate), and GrandCat and Great Aunt are taking it in turns to be on watch.

I was kept too busy to write even a few words yesterday, but, for posterity, we woke up at 6.30am (just before diddely doo time). I stuck green fluorescent dots onto the heavy cream curtains before taking them to the dry cleaners, (£16.62 each curtain, ready Saturday afternoon), and then spent the rest of the day cleaning paint off where it shouldn’t be as fast as Mr BW was spreading it on.
In the late afternoon, I then wet-cleaned the carpets for the first time in far too long, as evidenced by the colour of the waste water. *shudders*. I was then so exhausted that I went to sleep.
Fortunately, for carpet drying purposes, the glorious weather that started on Tuesday continues: 41.5°C in the polytunnel and 28°C on the in-the-sun wall thermometer. But it went down to 4°C last night.
Today we woke up at 4.45am, and had hot chocolate, but it didn’t work well enough and I still woke up at 6.45am (diddely doo time). Given that I rarely woke up at diddely doo time when Mr BW used to have to get up at that time, I wondered what was going on.

Mr BW is currently satinwooding the skirting boards and eggshelling the cupboard doors. That was after he re-emulsioned the wall that had dried patchy (the danger of using old paint and mixing part-tins).
Despite having all the windows and most of the doors open, the paint is not doing my dry cough (leftover from the flu attack a month ago) any good. Not sure what I’m meant to do – the weather forecasters are telling vulnerable people not to go out in the south and east, and I can’t stay in.
I’m amused at how many people are trying to blame the Coalition for the high pollution.

We woke up at 6am.
By 10am Mr BW had done a stock-take on paint-in-stock, cleared the Rest Room (note for non-UK readers, this not what you think it is), and had protective covering on the floor, and was washing the walls with sugar soap solution.
At 11am a Nice Lady Friend unexpectedly (well, OK, she rang twenty minutes before arriving) arrived with her German teenage grand daughter and the grand daughter’s best friend to buy eggs and h0ney and meet the livestock.
She was impressed by the industry being shown.
.

The cats and I have just waved Mr BW off for the last time.
Off to work that is.
After 33 years and 7 months in the same place (and, as his Mum said, his Dad started work there the year before he was born, so he’s actually a Company Baby). 63 years of service between them, although they overlapped by 12 years in the 80s and early 90s).
Car loaded with cakes (78) for this morning (not forgetting that there was already Cake Day Part 1 last Wednesday for all those who were on leave this week), and a huge chocolate extravagance (serves about 200 by the look of it) for this afternoon (picture later, when I have my camera back), and goodbye presents for various colleagues and secretaries (all home-made or home-grown)
And… the iCrap has left the building! Hurrah! It’s been embarrassing being such an Apple Non-Fan Girl having a husband with work-issue (Blackberries were changed to iPhoneys a couple of months ago).
We’d always planned to retire when Mr BW was 50.
We’ve been saving towards it, and putting extra into pension pots. The joy of compound interest, and the fact that we have always put the maximum amount of money into ISAs every year since they came out (which sometimes was very hard), and never touched it, has helped a lot.
But, then, a couple of years ago, the governmint changed the goalposts, and decreed that no-one could take their personal pensions until they were 55. We weren’t happy.
Two years ago, Mr BW chose to move to working 3 days per week. We got the idea in the summer of 2008, when the global crash led to everyone at his company being asked to work part time for three months. We managed fine (and even managed to still save), helped by not paying such a huge amount of tax and national insurance, and realised that it was a permanent possibility.
And then the governmint moved the goalposts on when one could take one’s state pension. Several times. We’re now up to 67. Fourteen and a half more years for me, and sixteen and a half for him, rather than the seven and a half for me (and fourteen and a half for him) that we were promised when we started paying national insurance at 16.
While we were in Northumberland last autumn celebrating Mr BW’s 50th birthday (I see that Jay Rayner recently also liked the place we went to on the actual day), I jokingly asked him how much longer he was planning to go on working. “Until I don’t enjoy it any more. Or 55. Whichever comes first!” was his reply.
On our return, a major restructuring by a new CEO had moved on, and he found that the job he’d been happily doing on three days per week (and some time at home on the other days) was impossible.
There were other options. All of which involved overseas travel again: but, he’d had enough of that in the first ten years of our marriage. Overseas travel isn’t what it was then.
No-one wanted him to leave.
No-one expected him to leave.
But, he insisted.
He signed the papers on 9th December (remember the sunrise post?), and has had a four month lead-out.

I’ve laughed at the number of jobs that have had to be created to cover all the things he’s been doing in 3 days per week for the past two years. When you’ve been somewhere for a long long time, and have had 8 bosses in 7 years (or maybe 7 in 8, I’m not sure), and are extremely time-efficient and organised, no-one has a clue of the totality of what you do.
And today is The Day.

D-Day (or, R-Day, for those of you who have been mystified by the count at the bottom of recent posts – it only moved downwards on work-days).
The first day of the rest of our lives.
No more diddley doo times every morning, unless we so choose.
I can’t wait!
My Patchy Ladies inform me that within weeks, if not days, I will be tearing my hair out. They under-estimate me. And him. I’ve been slowly adding to his list of hobbies in recent years. Sending him off on a course here, or encouraging an interest there. Mr BW is not someone who is ever at a loss for something to do – he’s not the sort of person who can happily sit in a chair all day, and, indeed is unhappy if he is not making or tinkering with something. The four day weekends for the past two years have proved that there still isn’t enough free time in a week.
And now he is free all week.
I look forward to sharing our adventures with you. Mind you – Mr BW now has his own website (and blog). Which I’d rather wasn’t linked from here, or linked with here. But I have a suspicion that some of you might be able to find it…
Happy Retirement Mr BW. And thank you for working so hard for us for the past nearly 21 years. (Actually, he’s calling ‘retirement’ his ‘gap year(s)’, because 33.6 years of compound interest on a gap year never taken at 16 is exactly the time left until he can take his occupational pensions.)

Another night, we had a very nice (and very quick to make) Crab and Prawn Lasagne, adapted (to make it gluten-free) from this Nigel Slater recipe here.
Someone on Masterchef tonight made their own rice noodles. Has anyone ever done this (I haven’t)? I’ve found a recipe here… and here… and it’s gluten-free (and I have all the ingredients in my non-wheat dry ingredients cupboard).
R -1

A mystery has been unfolding at The Coven.
The Mystery of the Disappearing Hot Cross Buns.
“Where have all those buns gone?” I asked on Friday afternoon (I only dropped one in the washing up water, accidentally).
“Mice, must be mice!” replied Mr BW.
“Blimey, they’ve evolved since the last lot! I’m worried – mice that can open the fridge, get out the butter, unwrap the butter, get a knife out of the drawer, cut, spread, and put everything away after are clearly to be greatly feared!”
“I didn’t have butter!”
Enjoy your chocolate eggs. Mr BW is threatening to have creme egg on his porridge.
R -1

After a sunny, if not particularly warm, day yesterday, we’re back to the cool damp gloom again today. Mr BW is having to pot-on tomato and pepper seedlings in the utility rather than the polytunnel as it is too cold to be outside.
I am amused that the 7th of May, election day in the UK, is also (according to my calendar) the National Day of Prayer in the US. If you’re over the pond, say one for us, won’t you – we’re certainly going to need it?!
I was also amused by the 2-hour 7-way election debate (watched by seven million people) last night. Actually, I fell asleep half way through, but Mr BW had predicted this, and recorded it, so we were able to watch the rest this morning. I have deliberatly chosen not to look at any of the ‘public reaction’ in the media (eg I haven’t yet read that link just above that I’ve just dropped in), so what follows is my own opinion.
Here is the BW ranking of the leaders’ performance (self-presentation, and clear presentation of their party’s policies – and not the order of my voting preference):

1. Nick Clegg (undoubtedly the best orator of the lot, but he was good last time, and look what then happened; after such a good performance he may not lose his seat as the media/polls were previously predicting)
2. Nigel Farage (he was the only one getting any laughter/applause/reaction etc from the audience – who were no doubt strictly briefed not to react as it would waste time; a showman of the highest order; clearly believes what he says; has identified the issues that bother the indigenous people in the Shires, but hasn’t a hope of solving them with his ‘ego first’ policies)
3. David Cameron (looked really tired and worried all the way through; but sounded as if he genuinely cared and believed in what he said; handled The Heckler well)
4. Nicola Sturgeon (but she’s had lots of practice at this type of thing over the past couple of years; clearly all-out solely for Scotland’s interests)
5. Ed Milliband (looking at the camera rather than the audience after the first 5 seconds of each answer was creepy – he just used this as an oportunity for extra party-political broadcast time; far too slick and polished, after obviously hours of coaching; very hard to know if he truly believes what he says or just says it because he knows he needs to if he is to stand any chance)
6. Leanne Wood (utterly out of her depth, and seemed under-informed on anything beyond the Welsh Valleys but, unlike the rest, at least she directly took on Farage a couple of times)
7. Natalie Bennett (oh for goodness sake, at least wear something bright, and some obvious make-up, or you’re just perpetuating the sackcloth and lentils stereotypical image; hard to see how she had any policies or vision that will keep the country from falling back into a pre-2010 state)
What do you think?

The internet is nearly out of sensible email addresses and domain names.
The position isn’t helped by people like me sitting on domain names and Twitter usernames, just in case they might one day get round to doing something with them, or because they match another name they already own and they don’t want someone else to grab it, so that a ‘complete set’ is no longer available.
I suppose it is like human names – as the world of cave people and medieval people expanded, so their names became longer to identify the particular individual.
I was expecting 3 bottles of contact lens solution in the post. Instead I got three lead soldiers. I don’t want lead soldiers. Gotta love eBay. The person concerned seems to have muddled up the labels on the parcels. They can think themself lucky that I use Mr BW’s account (so must be polite) – it’s this sort of thing that made me hate eBay and delete my account after a series of similar problems back when it first began.
In other news, Mr BW is trying it on with hot cross buns. I do the shopping, but he decided he’d ‘help out’ by buying two packs when he was in the supermarket buying cakes for something else yesterday. Given that I can’t eat them, that he’s already eaten 7 this week, and with the 8 I bought yesterday, I feel that we are in a serious over-stock situation.
R -1

No point putting anything up here this morning, is there?
Let me know if you see or hear any good ones…
R – 1.97