Another holiday, another blog. Not one of those holidays where you wait in an airport for an interminable amount of time; sit in an aircraft for so much time your ankles swell up; sit in a hotel waiting for the bars to open; sit in the bar waiting for the barman to understand what it was you just ordered, following the wait it took to get served … you get the idea.

No, it’s the kind of holiday where you sit in your own house, waiting for the guy to replace your bathroom floor.

Now, that may not seem like too much hard work. Indeed, the waiting part is not. I am able to spend some time imparting my thoughts to my lovely blog readers. If indeed there is such an animal.

The hardest thing is, in fact, the waiting without the comfort of having a toilet at the end of it. The thing is, to remove the existing floorboards, they apparently have to rip out your toilet and all the rest of the bits. Ah.

It’s not that I am incredibly in need of said receptacle right at this moment. It’s just that the thought that if I did, and it was not there ready to receive what it was built to receive, is not a happy thought.

Writing about it just makes it worse. I know that there is no need whatsoever to pay a visit, yet all this is just bringing it to the forefront of my mind. It’s a bit like talking yourself into a bacon roll. You know it’s not good for you, yet the idea of it is enough to say sorry to your arteries.

Toilets? They’re for wimps.

It’s not as though I could go to a neighbour’s house and ask to use the loo, is it? Sounds like it could be a case of a bucket and bleach. Ahh, so that’s why they call us pailmerks!

Anyway, to flush the subject from my mind, here’s some films I have recently watched, and what I thought of them, in the form of screamers, or exclamation marks. For once, the more the better.

Copland !!!! (Always been a Sly fan and never saw this before for some reason.)

Chicken Little ! (That one was for my son, who liked it a bit.)

Dirty Sanchez the movie !!! (Ouch, you silly wee Welsh wallies.)

Jackass 2 !!!!! (They’re Americans so you don’t mind them getting hurt.)

The Seven Swords !!! (Good old martial arts hokum.)

The Bourne Supremacy ! (Ho hum.)

The Bourne Ultimatum or something or other ! (See above.)

Oh, and books recently read.

Blaze, Stephen King !!! (Not up to his usual high standard, although it was written yonks ago during his Richard Bachman phase.)

Sepulchre, Kate Mosse !!!! (Chick book, I know, but I enjoyed Labyrinth.)

Making Money, Terry Pratchett !!!!!! (A lot, I know, but I absolutely love Pratchett.)

Lee Child, Bad Luck and Trouble !!!! (I do enjoy the Jack Reacher books – great escapism.)

Will that do?

Till next time.

Unless, of course, I explode.

Why does taking a few days off make life more stressful than if you were at work?

Maybe I’m not working hard enough, if that’s the case.

Aye.

Had to buy a new lawnmower. Pretty stressful stuff too. I didn’t want one that could whistle Dixie while making me a cup of tea before gaily whizzing off to mow the lawn. While I’m drinking the tea.

Fine though that may seem, such a gadget (if indeed such a one exists – and if it doesn’t it should) is a bit beyond my budget. At the same time, I didn’t want to go for the cheapest one there, as my back garden does bear a great resemblance to a patch of rainforest.

Wee flymos just don’t cut it. If you get my drift.

But it appears they have gone up in the world a bit since I last had one. With that one, you had to buy a roll of plastic cable-type stuff that broke just looking at the monstrous growth I was tasking it to obliterate. The new ones incorporate some whizzy plastic cutting tools, which seem easier (and cheaper) to replace when required.

So, with the cheapest orange thing under my arm, I left B & Q thirty quid down on the deal.

Once I got the thing home, however, I realised why I rarely get stuff from B & Q. Before I could hover up and down the garden with my latest gizmo I would have to build it first.

Ok. I’m not completely thick. I decided to have a go at it. Half an hour later, I was wishing I hadn’t. You had to attach the lower handle to the thing itself with a couple of strange bolty things. Fine, but I completely missed the handle holes and spent the aforesaid half an hour trying to get the damn plastic bits back out. Then the instructions went a bit haywire. I had to attach the upper handle to the lower handle using a strange deployment of plastic, bolt, nut and washer. The instructions had them round the wrong way, but going by the picture of the finished article on the box, I persevered. Just. It only took me about an hour and a half.

Too knackered then to even contemplate walking up and down the garden with a hovering beast in front of me, I decided to make myself some lunch. That’s one good thing about taking a few days off. You can help yourself to a bacon roll or two without your workmates knowing and having a dig at your calorie intake. They’ll never know. . . Oops.

Anyhoo, a couple of salad sandwiches later, me and my mower went out to play. I switched it on and gave it a tentative taste of my lush greenness. If it had eyelids, it would not have batted one of them. There before me was a patch of beautifully cut grass. I can’t have been doing it right.

I went back to the house and re-read the user instructions. It seems I actually did everything right, except for the length of time I had left it to do the task. It said that if I cut any more than two-thirds of the existing blade, I would irreparably damage the lawn. I did the math – never my strongest subject – and decided that although I’d be cutting considerably more than that, it is better than my neighbours doing irreparable harm to my person for not cutting the grass.

So back to the garden did I trot. The job was far easier than I was expecting. In fact, it took me less time to cut the grass than it took me to build it. It did complain from time to time as I asked it to cut down Gala’s answer to petrified redwoods, but the wee plastic jobs worked well and lasted the entire cut.

But work seems so much easier.

Who you gonna call?

Not me, apparently.

Ghosts just don't like me, I'm afraid. I did try, but I couldn't find any to film. Some weird stuff going on though. Go to our site and click on Latest Videos to see what I mean. In fact, I'll add one above here.

Derek Acorah surprised me a bit though. I cringed when I was interviewing him at the start. I asked him to tell our readers about his spirit guide Sam. He said that he came from "a country called Ethiopia" ...

I was expecting him to go on about "what is commonly known as ghosts" or "a charity is a thing which asks people to give it money".

Thankfully, he didn't.

As it turns out, he's a really nice bloke. And whether you believe he can yak with people who bit the dirt hundreds of years ago or not, you can't deny his charitable intentions. The Anthony Nolan Trust took in £18,000 from his two appearances. And the zip slide at Penielheugh Monument on Sunday earned them £20,000 on top of that.

Fantastic stuff -  and well done to organiser Allan Johnstone.

This weekend, I'll mostly be doing football - the Waddell Cup semi-final between Leithen Rovers and Kelso Thistle.

And on the Monday night, I'll be covering the Border League final between Jed-Forest and Selkirk. If, that is, Jed decide to play (see this week's Southern).

No videos though. I think the 10 hours spent editing the Fright Night stuff (as I said, I'm no expert) is enough for a wee while.

See ya!