The Mighty Fall
I've been off sick from work for a few days. India gave me a cold a few weeks back and predictably I was unable to shift it off my chest. The vicious asthma cycle kicked in and last week saw me collecting a course of steriods from the Doc, followed by a course of antibiotics, for a nasty little chest infection: I ended up in bed Thursday afternoon with flu like symptoms. The cycle of cold, infection, antibiotics is becoming depressing: it's starting to get to me.
Sunday -- 5 mins before the start of the big match* -- I managed to fall down the stairs. Warning: Do not wear smoooth-bottomed flip-flops when descending Victorian terrace property staircases. It could have been a bad one: I came down at least seven steps, landing on my arse with a crunch. My bottom is bruised, my left upper arm and shoulder jarred, and my right shoulder sore. My left knee ligaments are also tight today.
Fortunately I managed to grab the bannister, saving myself from serious injury. Nine of the twelve screws attaching it to the wall popped out. I was lucky it didn't follow me down the stairs: it weighs a ton.
Exam Invigilator
My dad's doing GCSE exam invigilating for Lord Williams' at the moment. It's a boring job. The highlights for him so far have both been in the Maths exam:
1) Kid A turns up, writes "I can't f***ing do this" on his paper and then leaves the hall -- never to return -- when his mobile phone rings. The ringtone was probably Alice Cooper.
2) Kid B falls asleep at his desk. He is woken up four times by different invigilators and teachers. Each time he works for ten minutes and thens nods off again. Lesson to be learned = do not stay up late revising the night before an exam.
Terminal Velocity
Gran is still in hospital. Yesterday we learnt that the 4cm growth detected in her bowel region apears to be a fast-growing secondary tumour. I'm unsurprised, but still shell-shocked. My brother phoned me up last night to talk about it, but just as I don't know what to write here, I didn't know what to say to him. I doubt that they will operate. Gran has another scan this week, from which they will [I guess] be able to tell us how long she's got left.
Changing Gears
I used to use that technique a lot more when I was posting this blog every day: Post a good thing, post a bad thing. It puts the reader off guard and makes the good thing seem better and the bad thing worse than if they existing alongside other good or bad things respectively. In poker it's called changing gears. Over the weekend -- whilst recovering from my chest infection and stuntman tumble -- I read Matt Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. It's excellent and reads like a blog. Each chapter is all of one to six pages long and Haddon changes gear every chapter, zipping the story along at a pace and keeping the reader hooked.
* the post-Big Match joke:
Q: Why do French women love Englishmen ?
A: They can be on top for 90 mins.... then still come second.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Lookout for Wormholes and Dawn
The two most recent Webflix movies watched are Contenders:Series 7 and Donnie Darko.
I knew Donnie Darko had a reputation for weirdness, and it didn't disappoint: There's no getting away from the fact that giant time-travelling rabbits are freaky. Great movie, brilliant 80's music and a story that was dream-like. I even got the ending. Contenders: Series 7 is a fantastic low-budget Film Four presentation, that only had a limited cinema release and Blockbuster shelf-life. Filmed in a mockumentary format, it's Big Brother with guns played out on a streets of small town America. It's ace. Go watch it!
Hear the Hooves of the Ghost Carriage and Horses
We've just had a great weekend away with Sara and Stasher. We stayed in the isolated Palmer's Lodge -- part of the Victoria Hotel -- in the grounds of the Earl of Leicester's Holkham Estate on the coast of Norfolk. We travelled up via Cambridge on Thursday, so it felt like a proper long weekend break.
Here's a brief report on what happened:
Sara and Stasher paid for our lodgings -- it was Vic's 30th birthday present.
We paid for the dinner on Saturday night.
The Palmer's Lodge is part of a great stone gate -- originally the boundary of the 25,000 acre Holkham Estate.
At midnight you can apparently sometimes hear the sound of hooves, as the ghostly apparition of a carriage and four horses dashes through the gate on the way to some tragedy.
Vic couldn't sleep -- she was worried about the haunting.
The hotel receptionist told us that the story of the ghost carriage is hogwash... but one of the hotel rooms really is haunted.
The Palmer's Lodge second bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and dining room is underground in converted cellars: With the low arched roofs and Vic's hairy Hobbit feet, I felt like Gandalf in Baggins End.
We drove through herds of deer, flocks of pheasants and colonies of rabbits each time we drove the two mile trip back and forth to the hotel.
The local Ice House lager is very good.
The beach at Holkham is the one Gwenny Palthrow walks down at the end of Shakespeare in Love.
When the tide is out, you have to walk miles from the sand dunes to reach the water.
The walk consists of stagnate mud-flats and quicksand: Not the best terrain for a baby buggy and flip-flops.
Stasher wore his shirt on his head. He looked like Lawrence of Arabia. Normally the first to fry with his fair skin, Stasher was the only one of us -- apart from India -- not to get burnt in the sun.
India loves sand.
India loves to eat sand.
There are no donkey rides at Holkham beach.
Having a picnic on the beach is one of life's true pleasures.
I mastered the art of boomerang throwing on the Holkham Estate cricket pitch.
I almost decapitated two tourists with said boomerang.
I almost decapitated a cricketer by throwing a cricket ball to him, whilst he had his back to me.
He didn't thank me for returning the ball.
We visited the estate church and left wanting to know what happened to Ann Cooper: There was an empty space for her on her husband's 1801 tombstone, but all her children and grandchildren had apparently died earlier than she (buried in the family plot). Vic guessed that Ann might have remarried, but it's one of those unanswered mysteries you always find when visiting graveyards.
Jamie Oliver has a house in Burnham Market. It's probably pukka.
Well-next-the-Sea has a rock shop which only sells one quality... THE BEST!
Sandringham Palace -- which we visited on Sunday -- is beautiful.
The Queen eats off plates adorned with cutesy animals, sat upon placemats that feature photos of her racehorses: Tableware that wouldn't grace even the most downmarket of 1970's public houses.
The Peterborough to London route is a race-track for F-reg Nova's.
The two most recent Webflix movies watched are Contenders:Series 7 and Donnie Darko.
I knew Donnie Darko had a reputation for weirdness, and it didn't disappoint: There's no getting away from the fact that giant time-travelling rabbits are freaky. Great movie, brilliant 80's music and a story that was dream-like. I even got the ending. Contenders: Series 7 is a fantastic low-budget Film Four presentation, that only had a limited cinema release and Blockbuster shelf-life. Filmed in a mockumentary format, it's Big Brother with guns played out on a streets of small town America. It's ace. Go watch it!
Hear the Hooves of the Ghost Carriage and Horses
We've just had a great weekend away with Sara and Stasher. We stayed in the isolated Palmer's Lodge -- part of the Victoria Hotel -- in the grounds of the Earl of Leicester's Holkham Estate on the coast of Norfolk. We travelled up via Cambridge on Thursday, so it felt like a proper long weekend break.
Here's a brief report on what happened:
Sara and Stasher paid for our lodgings -- it was Vic's 30th birthday present.
We paid for the dinner on Saturday night.
The Palmer's Lodge is part of a great stone gate -- originally the boundary of the 25,000 acre Holkham Estate.
At midnight you can apparently sometimes hear the sound of hooves, as the ghostly apparition of a carriage and four horses dashes through the gate on the way to some tragedy.
Vic couldn't sleep -- she was worried about the haunting.
The hotel receptionist told us that the story of the ghost carriage is hogwash... but one of the hotel rooms really is haunted.
The Palmer's Lodge second bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and dining room is underground in converted cellars: With the low arched roofs and Vic's hairy Hobbit feet, I felt like Gandalf in Baggins End.
We drove through herds of deer, flocks of pheasants and colonies of rabbits each time we drove the two mile trip back and forth to the hotel.
The local Ice House lager is very good.
The beach at Holkham is the one Gwenny Palthrow walks down at the end of Shakespeare in Love.
When the tide is out, you have to walk miles from the sand dunes to reach the water.
The walk consists of stagnate mud-flats and quicksand: Not the best terrain for a baby buggy and flip-flops.
Stasher wore his shirt on his head. He looked like Lawrence of Arabia. Normally the first to fry with his fair skin, Stasher was the only one of us -- apart from India -- not to get burnt in the sun.
India loves sand.
India loves to eat sand.
There are no donkey rides at Holkham beach.
Having a picnic on the beach is one of life's true pleasures.
I mastered the art of boomerang throwing on the Holkham Estate cricket pitch.
I almost decapitated two tourists with said boomerang.
I almost decapitated a cricketer by throwing a cricket ball to him, whilst he had his back to me.
He didn't thank me for returning the ball.
We visited the estate church and left wanting to know what happened to Ann Cooper: There was an empty space for her on her husband's 1801 tombstone, but all her children and grandchildren had apparently died earlier than she (buried in the family plot). Vic guessed that Ann might have remarried, but it's one of those unanswered mysteries you always find when visiting graveyards.
Jamie Oliver has a house in Burnham Market. It's probably pukka.
Well-next-the-Sea has a rock shop which only sells one quality... THE BEST!
Sandringham Palace -- which we visited on Sunday -- is beautiful.
The Queen eats off plates adorned with cutesy animals, sat upon placemats that feature photos of her racehorses: Tableware that wouldn't grace even the most downmarket of 1970's public houses.
The Peterborough to London route is a race-track for F-reg Nova's.
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Mister Blister
Our very own Young Indiana Jones -- Simon -- is planning to partake of a charity walk. Find all the details -- plus sponsorship link -- here at his worldofmore.
100km sounds like a test of strength, but if Simon was a real macho macho man, he'd be getting some of his hair-waxed for charity instead.
Back, crack and sack.
Our very own Young Indiana Jones -- Simon -- is planning to partake of a charity walk. Find all the details -- plus sponsorship link -- here at his worldofmore.
100km sounds like a test of strength, but if Simon was a real macho macho man, he'd be getting some of his hair-waxed for charity instead.
Back, crack and sack.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Exams
Been and gone. They were both unmitigated disasters. Poor time management and too many gaps in my answers. Very frustrated and unhappy, as I'd prepared well for both. Frankly, the last 10 weeks have been wasted, I've missed out on some one-off social events, and life's potential golden age gets put on hold for another six months. Plus, I've got to do them all again in November. Joy.
Big Brother
Kitten should be put in a sack and drowned.
Shel seems the only straight non-ego in the house, so her odds of 5-1 seem reasonable.
Dan is the sort of man [if you believe Dan] to break Scott "Straight But Gay Icon" in.
Crop Circles
Rob was back from Chicago weekend before last. What do you do when your gay best mate comes to visit? Do you get out the wax and let Rob deforest the hair on your upper arms? Do you wave goodbye to those "Crop Circles" -- as your wife and friends affectionately call them? Are you surprised when the newly smooth and boyish arms start sprouting new -- and thicker -- replacement hair almost immediately?
It's amazing what you do after a few drinks and your daughter is asleep, blocking the route to the games cupboard...
And girls, waxing does hurt -- what's all the fuss?!
Been and gone. They were both unmitigated disasters. Poor time management and too many gaps in my answers. Very frustrated and unhappy, as I'd prepared well for both. Frankly, the last 10 weeks have been wasted, I've missed out on some one-off social events, and life's potential golden age gets put on hold for another six months. Plus, I've got to do them all again in November. Joy.
Big Brother
Kitten should be put in a sack and drowned.
Shel seems the only straight non-ego in the house, so her odds of 5-1 seem reasonable.
Dan is the sort of man [if you believe Dan] to break Scott "Straight But Gay Icon" in.
Crop Circles
Rob was back from Chicago weekend before last. What do you do when your gay best mate comes to visit? Do you get out the wax and let Rob deforest the hair on your upper arms? Do you wave goodbye to those "Crop Circles" -- as your wife and friends affectionately call them? Are you surprised when the newly smooth and boyish arms start sprouting new -- and thicker -- replacement hair almost immediately?
It's amazing what you do after a few drinks and your daughter is asleep, blocking the route to the games cupboard...
And girls, waxing does hurt -- what's all the fuss?!
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Crawl & Maul
India started crawling on Friday afternoon. Exactly eight months old. Three hesitant steps and then she was off like a greyhound from the slips. There's no stopping her now -- her domain has been enlarged beyond her wildest dreams -- everything is within her grasp. We're still to make the house bomb-proof: Little hands have already discovered pot plant soil is fun to play with. Little mouths have already discovered that pot plant soil does not taste good.
The weird thing is how unexcited I'm feeling about her latest step over the progression hurdle. As soon as she did it, I was left feeling "OK, next it's walking", rather than "Wow! My baby's crawling!".
Once we've got the walking cracked, it'll be kicking a football. Then bending it like Beckham. Then putting your ladies England shirt on just as you're leaving the tunnel, Paul Ince style.
Hospitalised
My gran -- who had the radiotherapy last year -- went into the JR on Monday morning. She's been off her food now for six months, and things came to a head on Sunday night. Reports from the hospital say it's 95% certain she has an abscess of the bowel, causing her loss of appetite and sickness. She's now under observation.
I just hope it doesn't turn out to be the 5% alternative.
India started crawling on Friday afternoon. Exactly eight months old. Three hesitant steps and then she was off like a greyhound from the slips. There's no stopping her now -- her domain has been enlarged beyond her wildest dreams -- everything is within her grasp. We're still to make the house bomb-proof: Little hands have already discovered pot plant soil is fun to play with. Little mouths have already discovered that pot plant soil does not taste good.
The weird thing is how unexcited I'm feeling about her latest step over the progression hurdle. As soon as she did it, I was left feeling "OK, next it's walking", rather than "Wow! My baby's crawling!".
Once we've got the walking cracked, it'll be kicking a football. Then bending it like Beckham. Then putting your ladies England shirt on just as you're leaving the tunnel, Paul Ince style.
Hospitalised
My gran -- who had the radiotherapy last year -- went into the JR on Monday morning. She's been off her food now for six months, and things came to a head on Sunday night. Reports from the hospital say it's 95% certain she has an abscess of the bowel, causing her loss of appetite and sickness. She's now under observation.
I just hope it doesn't turn out to be the 5% alternative.
Friday, May 14, 2004
Pump It Up
The petrol station at Postcombe yesterday hiked its pump prices up to 83.9p a litre of unleaded. For my American reader, that's $5.63 a US gallon (and you thought YOU had it bad!). Pundits are predicting it will hit 90p by the middle of next week.
I'm so happy to be driving a Rover 620, rather than my old Clio. It doesn't drink fuel like a fish at all.
Prices are being pushed up not just by the Iraq situation, but by the huge demand of US motorists who apparently all get into their 4.0 litre Monster Trucks and go drivin' on Route 66 from now until the end of August. 12% of the worlds petroleum output gets vapourised in US motor engines during the summer months.
As a result, we'll probably see fuel blockades again here in the UK.
We'll definitely see rises in energy and food prices, which together with the petrol itself will push up inflation rates. That 2% pay rise you just got therefore represents an effective pay-cut.
Let us reap the rewards of US foreign and domestic transport policies.
The petrol station at Postcombe yesterday hiked its pump prices up to 83.9p a litre of unleaded. For my American reader, that's $5.63 a US gallon (and you thought YOU had it bad!). Pundits are predicting it will hit 90p by the middle of next week.
I'm so happy to be driving a Rover 620, rather than my old Clio. It doesn't drink fuel like a fish at all.
Prices are being pushed up not just by the Iraq situation, but by the huge demand of US motorists who apparently all get into their 4.0 litre Monster Trucks and go drivin' on Route 66 from now until the end of August. 12% of the worlds petroleum output gets vapourised in US motor engines during the summer months.
As a result, we'll probably see fuel blockades again here in the UK.
We'll definitely see rises in energy and food prices, which together with the petrol itself will push up inflation rates. That 2% pay rise you just got therefore represents an effective pay-cut.
Let us reap the rewards of US foreign and domestic transport policies.
Thursday, May 13, 2004
Blow This Photo Up
Sometimes when you're scanning the net [for a suitable photo for your blog profile], you discover photos of you that you knew nothing about.
Hideous photos.
[Apologies to Nancy and Duncan who now have their private photo album opened to the universe]
Free Movies
I missed a load of decent films before and after India's arrival. That's one thing as parents of a baby you miss out on: going to the cinema as a couple. Even before the birth, our visits were curtailled by Vic's girth and bladder: sitting down for 3 hours with no easy access to a toilet wasn't her idea of a good night out. I've been trying to catch up on those missed movies, with many of them now appearing on DVD. Although my exam retake revision doesn't help my cause, I've managed to watch Kill Bill Vol 1, Master and Commander, and City of God over the last couple of weeks.
All good movies, but it is City of God that ranks as the MUST SEE flick. If you've not seen it, treat yourself and rent it. The sunshine that burns brightly from the screen and the funky music are enough on their own. Add a pacy story, original cinematography and some excellent acting, and you're in popcorn heaven. Yes, it's in Brazilian and has subtitles, but don't let them put you off: the foreign lanaguage actually adds to the film, and it's been clipped-translated, so the subtitles are easy-to-read and don't get in the way. You might read in some reviews that the film is violent: don't believe the hype, there is some gunplay, but it's no bloodbath.
Unlike Kill Bill.
Thanks go to Sara and Stasher for signing me up with Webflix for my birthday -- 3 months of free DVD's!
And Master and Commander is superb: An action movie with many subtle layers. How refreshing to see us Brits not portrayed as the bad guys by Hollywood*. Even Crowe's "English" accent isn't too off-putting.
* Now its the rightful turn of the French! Hoorah!
Sometimes when you're scanning the net [for a suitable photo for your blog profile], you discover photos of you that you knew nothing about.
Hideous photos.
[Apologies to Nancy and Duncan who now have their private photo album opened to the universe]
Free Movies
I missed a load of decent films before and after India's arrival. That's one thing as parents of a baby you miss out on: going to the cinema as a couple. Even before the birth, our visits were curtailled by Vic's girth and bladder: sitting down for 3 hours with no easy access to a toilet wasn't her idea of a good night out. I've been trying to catch up on those missed movies, with many of them now appearing on DVD. Although my exam retake revision doesn't help my cause, I've managed to watch Kill Bill Vol 1, Master and Commander, and City of God over the last couple of weeks.
All good movies, but it is City of God that ranks as the MUST SEE flick. If you've not seen it, treat yourself and rent it. The sunshine that burns brightly from the screen and the funky music are enough on their own. Add a pacy story, original cinematography and some excellent acting, and you're in popcorn heaven. Yes, it's in Brazilian and has subtitles, but don't let them put you off: the foreign lanaguage actually adds to the film, and it's been clipped-translated, so the subtitles are easy-to-read and don't get in the way. You might read in some reviews that the film is violent: don't believe the hype, there is some gunplay, but it's no bloodbath.
Unlike Kill Bill.
Thanks go to Sara and Stasher for signing me up with Webflix for my birthday -- 3 months of free DVD's!
And Master and Commander is superb: An action movie with many subtle layers. How refreshing to see us Brits not portrayed as the bad guys by Hollywood*. Even Crowe's "English" accent isn't too off-putting.
* Now its the rightful turn of the French! Hoorah!
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Babb Bee
India's been forming proper vocal sounds for the last week. As well as the usual mono-tone screeching, we now have a new level of communication, with "bab bab", "da da" and "mum ma" echoing forth from her little mouth.
I'm sure it won't be long before she utters her first f word.
She is now on the cusp of crawling and the teething pains are back. No teeth yet and no current need to baby/bomb-proof the house. Her development review on Monday went well and she's apparently very tall for her age. Her new tricks include untying shoe laces, clapping to show her appreciation of things and shaking her head when you say "no". She also cries when I leave for work in the morning... which is nice.
The venue for India's naming party is booked. The date is set for the 18th of July. I've started on the first draft of the invite. If Vic gives it the nod, it'll be going out next week.
India's been forming proper vocal sounds for the last week. As well as the usual mono-tone screeching, we now have a new level of communication, with "bab bab", "da da" and "mum ma" echoing forth from her little mouth.
I'm sure it won't be long before she utters her first f word.
She is now on the cusp of crawling and the teething pains are back. No teeth yet and no current need to baby/bomb-proof the house. Her development review on Monday went well and she's apparently very tall for her age. Her new tricks include untying shoe laces, clapping to show her appreciation of things and shaking her head when you say "no". She also cries when I leave for work in the morning... which is nice.
The venue for India's naming party is booked. The date is set for the 18th of July. I've started on the first draft of the invite. If Vic gives it the nod, it'll be going out next week.
Monday, May 10, 2004
New Blogger
Time to jump on the bandwagon and update this blog with a new template and comments box.
The comments box is well-over due, but I just couldn't be bothered to mess around finding a suitable host and adding in the code. I've also been aware that it will probably only invite abuse... Well done to google for the improved options, and bring that abuse on!
Paintball
I came back with 12 bruises, two skinned shins, one grazed hand and one unimpressed wife. However, compared to the car, I got off lightly. I managed to back it into a tree in the woodland car park.
Oops. That rounded the afternoon off nicely for Vic...
Did she enjoy it? For the first 4 games she cowered behind the cover at the rear of each field, scared of getting hit and scared to get in the thick of the action. By the end she was happier -- the more "mission" orientated games (such as defending a house from the evil blue team) were far more to her liking. I don't think she'll do it again however... and it certainly didn't match up to an afternoon at a health spa.
JF's Funeral
A guess a good thousand or two turned-out for JF's funeral. The bells tolled. The minister played to the crowd. The readings and tributes were fitting. The school kids lined the street when his coffin departed the church. There were many long faces. It made you realise how many people this great man had helped over the years.
Time to jump on the bandwagon and update this blog with a new template and comments box.
The comments box is well-over due, but I just couldn't be bothered to mess around finding a suitable host and adding in the code. I've also been aware that it will probably only invite abuse... Well done to google for the improved options, and bring that abuse on!
Paintball
I came back with 12 bruises, two skinned shins, one grazed hand and one unimpressed wife. However, compared to the car, I got off lightly. I managed to back it into a tree in the woodland car park.
Oops. That rounded the afternoon off nicely for Vic...
Did she enjoy it? For the first 4 games she cowered behind the cover at the rear of each field, scared of getting hit and scared to get in the thick of the action. By the end she was happier -- the more "mission" orientated games (such as defending a house from the evil blue team) were far more to her liking. I don't think she'll do it again however... and it certainly didn't match up to an afternoon at a health spa.
JF's Funeral
A guess a good thousand or two turned-out for JF's funeral. The bells tolled. The minister played to the crowd. The readings and tributes were fitting. The school kids lined the street when his coffin departed the church. There were many long faces. It made you realise how many people this great man had helped over the years.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Happy Birthday Beautiful Wife
Vic turned 30 at the weekend. Hard to believe, especially as she will always be 17 to me. Had a great time with good friends. Took a narrowboat/barge up the Oxford Canal on Saturday. We were blessed by the weather and I thoroughly enjoyed the day: very peaceful, relaxing and destressing. Highly recommended. Went out for dinner at the Crazy Bear in the evening: Good food but a little pricey for what it was. Saw Steeleye Span on Sunday night: Good gig but their standards seem to be slipping. Maddy's voice is also starting to noticeably degrade. First night of their UK tour, so for those going in the next few months, hope it gets better!
Vicster did very well with some brilliant treats lined up over the next few weeks. The highlight for her is of course the paintball session I've booked for her at the end of this month. Not the weekend away at a posh hotel, or the lunch at Le Manior, but the paintabll...
Loco Dog
Nelson the Dog has gone loco. He damaged his paw months ago and has been eating the bandages and biting / licking the wound ever since. Ann took him to the vets and he asked her if there had been any disturbance in the family over the last few months. The original wound was tracked back to our first visit up to Carlisle with India, and he's been self-harming ever since. When we went up two weeks ago he skulked round the house like a dead man walking and by the Sunday had bitten the pads on his other paw.
Poor chap.
According to the vet this is apparently quite common in labradors -- they can get jealous of babies and often feel abandoned if their mummy's attention is funnelled away from them.
John Fulkes Dies
JF -- king of Lord Williams' Sixth Form for years -- died on Saturday. I don't have the details -- possible heart-attack? Took the call from my shocked dad -- who is a couple of years older than John was and an ex-school chum. Last time I saw JF was at my grandad's funeral in January: JF did the main tribute to gramp before my reading. His death will be a massive loss to the school and the local cricket club.
India Update
My bonny baby is back into a settle sleep mode. She's still great too. We're starting to plan her naming party/non-christen christening. For those who have diaries, the date is going to be the 18th of July. Vic and I need to thrash out the details, but I'm hoping for live DJs and a hot-grillin' BBQ.
We'll probably end up with Nora Jones on CD and cucumber sandwiches...
Jules
No sign of him.
Vic turned 30 at the weekend. Hard to believe, especially as she will always be 17 to me. Had a great time with good friends. Took a narrowboat/barge up the Oxford Canal on Saturday. We were blessed by the weather and I thoroughly enjoyed the day: very peaceful, relaxing and destressing. Highly recommended. Went out for dinner at the Crazy Bear in the evening: Good food but a little pricey for what it was. Saw Steeleye Span on Sunday night: Good gig but their standards seem to be slipping. Maddy's voice is also starting to noticeably degrade. First night of their UK tour, so for those going in the next few months, hope it gets better!
Vicster did very well with some brilliant treats lined up over the next few weeks. The highlight for her is of course the paintball session I've booked for her at the end of this month. Not the weekend away at a posh hotel, or the lunch at Le Manior, but the paintabll...
Loco Dog
Nelson the Dog has gone loco. He damaged his paw months ago and has been eating the bandages and biting / licking the wound ever since. Ann took him to the vets and he asked her if there had been any disturbance in the family over the last few months. The original wound was tracked back to our first visit up to Carlisle with India, and he's been self-harming ever since. When we went up two weeks ago he skulked round the house like a dead man walking and by the Sunday had bitten the pads on his other paw.
Poor chap.
According to the vet this is apparently quite common in labradors -- they can get jealous of babies and often feel abandoned if their mummy's attention is funnelled away from them.
John Fulkes Dies
JF -- king of Lord Williams' Sixth Form for years -- died on Saturday. I don't have the details -- possible heart-attack? Took the call from my shocked dad -- who is a couple of years older than John was and an ex-school chum. Last time I saw JF was at my grandad's funeral in January: JF did the main tribute to gramp before my reading. His death will be a massive loss to the school and the local cricket club.
India Update
My bonny baby is back into a settle sleep mode. She's still great too. We're starting to plan her naming party/non-christen christening. For those who have diaries, the date is going to be the 18th of July. Vic and I need to thrash out the details, but I'm hoping for live DJs and a hot-grillin' BBQ.
We'll probably end up with Nora Jones on CD and cucumber sandwiches...
Jules
No sign of him.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
Updates
GP Brum
I started strongly, winning the first 2 rounds, but then blew up with some terrible plays, dropping out of the event at 2-2. Team mate Chestor put in a spectacular performance however: he finished 18th out of 600+ players, picking up $950 for his trouble...
Jules
Julian was dismissed last week. He had five days in which to appeal, but nothing has been seen or heard of him. He's still AWOL. His box of possessions lies unloved in reception and he has been deleted from the Fire Register and telephone index.
We have been scouring the local paper to see if he's jumped under a train or taken a bath with his stereo.
I'm starting to think he's gone travelling to find himself or something.
April Fool
I've doctored up a CV for Jules -- together with a real agency covering letter and envelope -- and have ensured my boss will get it tomorrow morning. That's right -- Julian is applying for his old job again -- the one he's just been dismissed from.
GP Brum
I started strongly, winning the first 2 rounds, but then blew up with some terrible plays, dropping out of the event at 2-2. Team mate Chestor put in a spectacular performance however: he finished 18th out of 600+ players, picking up $950 for his trouble...
Jules
Julian was dismissed last week. He had five days in which to appeal, but nothing has been seen or heard of him. He's still AWOL. His box of possessions lies unloved in reception and he has been deleted from the Fire Register and telephone index.
We have been scouring the local paper to see if he's jumped under a train or taken a bath with his stereo.
I'm starting to think he's gone travelling to find himself or something.
April Fool
I've doctored up a CV for Jules -- together with a real agency covering letter and envelope -- and have ensured my boss will get it tomorrow morning. That's right -- Julian is applying for his old job again -- the one he's just been dismissed from.
Friday, March 26, 2004
Grand Prix Birmingham
I normally try to avoid all Magic references in this blog -- 1) I can't stand the blogs of magic players who seem to live their whole life around the game; and 2) the hobby is full of geeks like me -- but this weekend is a little different.
Grand Prix Birmingham comes to the NEC and may well be the largest event of it's type ever since in the UK. I'm expecting over 800 players to be competiting in the event, possibly more considering Madrid's GP had over 1200 competitors.
By anyone's standards, that is a seriously big tournament.
The event is held over two days: Just like in golf there is a Day 2 cut to the top 64 players. With no byes and little practise, I am unlikely to make that cut or a money finish ($2400 and an expenses-paid trip to the Pro Tour event in San Diego is the first prize), but you can follow my progress, round-by-round, live via the official DCI Tournament Center portal. [Remember that you'll have to find "Yates" on the leaderboard rather than "Dobscrub"]
I'm really looking forward to my big day out. Not just for the competition, but because I'll be bumping into a host of friends who I haven't seen in a long time. And that's really what it's all about: a fun day out with old friends.
And the prize money.
I normally try to avoid all Magic references in this blog -- 1) I can't stand the blogs of magic players who seem to live their whole life around the game; and 2) the hobby is full of geeks like me -- but this weekend is a little different.
Grand Prix Birmingham comes to the NEC and may well be the largest event of it's type ever since in the UK. I'm expecting over 800 players to be competiting in the event, possibly more considering Madrid's GP had over 1200 competitors.
By anyone's standards, that is a seriously big tournament.
The event is held over two days: Just like in golf there is a Day 2 cut to the top 64 players. With no byes and little practise, I am unlikely to make that cut or a money finish ($2400 and an expenses-paid trip to the Pro Tour event in San Diego is the first prize), but you can follow my progress, round-by-round, live via the official DCI Tournament Center portal. [Remember that you'll have to find "Yates" on the leaderboard rather than "Dobscrub"]
I'm really looking forward to my big day out. Not just for the competition, but because I'll be bumping into a host of friends who I haven't seen in a long time. And that's really what it's all about: a fun day out with old friends.
And the prize money.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
AWOL
Julian -- who is depressed but won't admit it -- hasn't turned up for work for the last few weeks. Not everyday -- some days he comes in -- but on the whole he's been AWOL for quite a while.
Work have been pretty sensitive to it, but have now run out of patience: He's basically blown chance after final chance.
At 11.30 he was meant to turn up for a meeting with the FD and HR Mgr. It was clearly going to be his final act here. An envelope -- or bullet -- was waiting with his name on it. Knowing what to expect, predictably he hasn't turned up.
He'd be late for his own funeral.
Except I can't say that, because there's a realistic chance that in his current state that WILL be his next appointment.
Despite the fact he hasn't been seen since last week, work have so far failed to contact his next of kin. We, the rest of the department, fear he's topped himself. Hopefully we're wrong.
Julian -- who is depressed but won't admit it -- hasn't turned up for work for the last few weeks. Not everyday -- some days he comes in -- but on the whole he's been AWOL for quite a while.
Work have been pretty sensitive to it, but have now run out of patience: He's basically blown chance after final chance.
At 11.30 he was meant to turn up for a meeting with the FD and HR Mgr. It was clearly going to be his final act here. An envelope -- or bullet -- was waiting with his name on it. Knowing what to expect, predictably he hasn't turned up.
He'd be late for his own funeral.
Except I can't say that, because there's a realistic chance that in his current state that WILL be his next appointment.
Despite the fact he hasn't been seen since last week, work have so far failed to contact his next of kin. We, the rest of the department, fear he's topped himself. Hopefully we're wrong.
Your Glasses Are So Funny Daddy
India was having her breakfast milk when I said goodbye to her this morning. After giving her a kiss on the forehead I put my [driving] glasses on.
India laughed at them.
Even my 6 month old daughter thinks I'm a speccy four eyes.
They're not even comedy glasses -- I could forgive her if they featured goggle eyes on springs, a big red nose and a bushy false moustache.
Cheeky little tike.
India was having her breakfast milk when I said goodbye to her this morning. After giving her a kiss on the forehead I put my [driving] glasses on.
India laughed at them.
Even my 6 month old daughter thinks I'm a speccy four eyes.
They're not even comedy glasses -- I could forgive her if they featured goggle eyes on springs, a big red nose and a bushy false moustache.
Cheeky little tike.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Sleep Comes Like A Drug
Is a U2 lyric I believe.
And how I need a good sleep.
Vic and India haven't been too well for the last few days -- India's been a nightmare through the night -- and with the addition of an illegal rave just 200 yards from our house on Sunday morning (2.30 am through to 9.00 am), I'm bushed.
The "India not sleeping for longer than 30 mins before screaming" thing is probably because she's teething. It may also be because she's hungry or unwell. And the "waking up at 5.00 am" thing is probably because it's getting light outside and we don't have a black-out blind on her window.
Vic's buying a black-out blind this afternoon. I'm buying a new baby.
The illegal rave -- I'm sure the full story will be on thamenews.net any day -- was held in an empty warehouse in the Industrial Estate across the way. It wasn't like the good old days of Acid House [cue sound of whistles] I can assure you. We had the same baseline for 6 and a half hours. The baseline could be heard over 2 miles away. Nobody called the police. Biut then again, what can Thame's TWO police officers realistically do with 200 drunk and drugged-up swampies?
Coz that's what they were. Swampies.
I took a walk out at 9.00 am to see the aftermath and get a paper. The party peeps weren't the happy-go-lucky, brightly coloured, E-powered love prophets of illegal raves gone by. They were crusty, pale-looking, combat-trouser wearing crusties who looked downright miserable.
Apart from one couple who gave me, India (in her pushchair) and the two coppers a cheery wave from their car on departure.
India gave them the V sign.
Side story about Swampy: THE Swampy -- the one who lived in a hole under the route of the planned Newbury bypass -- went out with Rachel for a time. Rachel and Robin had their baby last week -- Daisy arrived safe and sound. Congratulations R&R!
Is a U2 lyric I believe.
And how I need a good sleep.
Vic and India haven't been too well for the last few days -- India's been a nightmare through the night -- and with the addition of an illegal rave just 200 yards from our house on Sunday morning (2.30 am through to 9.00 am), I'm bushed.
The "India not sleeping for longer than 30 mins before screaming" thing is probably because she's teething. It may also be because she's hungry or unwell. And the "waking up at 5.00 am" thing is probably because it's getting light outside and we don't have a black-out blind on her window.
Vic's buying a black-out blind this afternoon. I'm buying a new baby.
The illegal rave -- I'm sure the full story will be on thamenews.net any day -- was held in an empty warehouse in the Industrial Estate across the way. It wasn't like the good old days of Acid House [cue sound of whistles] I can assure you. We had the same baseline for 6 and a half hours. The baseline could be heard over 2 miles away. Nobody called the police. Biut then again, what can Thame's TWO police officers realistically do with 200 drunk and drugged-up swampies?
Coz that's what they were. Swampies.
I took a walk out at 9.00 am to see the aftermath and get a paper. The party peeps weren't the happy-go-lucky, brightly coloured, E-powered love prophets of illegal raves gone by. They were crusty, pale-looking, combat-trouser wearing crusties who looked downright miserable.
Apart from one couple who gave me, India (in her pushchair) and the two coppers a cheery wave from their car on departure.
India gave them the V sign.
Side story about Swampy: THE Swampy -- the one who lived in a hole under the route of the planned Newbury bypass -- went out with Rachel for a time. Rachel and Robin had their baby last week -- Daisy arrived safe and sound. Congratulations R&R!
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Haiti
In the first week of January the Sunday Times travel magazine tipped Haiti as one of the top destinations for 2004. "It's the new Cuba" they said.
Happy holidays in the Land of Voodoo folks.
Grand Opening Night
I'm pleased to announce that the dining room is almost complete. Carpet went down last week -- giving India a soft playzone on the ground floor -- and we're really just waiting for the fireplace to come back from The Forge (blacksmiths). The plaster cracks need filling and we're awaiting a delivery from Ikea -- the missing leg to our new bookcase -- but for all intents and purposes it is finished.
Emma and Scott are coming over for sausage and mash tomorrow night. I have the red ribbon ready to go.
Bring your scissors Em.
In the first week of January the Sunday Times travel magazine tipped Haiti as one of the top destinations for 2004. "It's the new Cuba" they said.
Happy holidays in the Land of Voodoo folks.
Grand Opening Night
I'm pleased to announce that the dining room is almost complete. Carpet went down last week -- giving India a soft playzone on the ground floor -- and we're really just waiting for the fireplace to come back from The Forge (blacksmiths). The plaster cracks need filling and we're awaiting a delivery from Ikea -- the missing leg to our new bookcase -- but for all intents and purposes it is finished.
Emma and Scott are coming over for sausage and mash tomorrow night. I have the red ribbon ready to go.
Bring your scissors Em.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Baby Update
Everyday India has a new trick to show us. Yesterday was her first day of being able to sit up by herself [big breakthrough]. The day before was the "screaching like a monkey" game. Saturday's was "playing peek-a-boo with my sick-covered bip". She is so special.
Barbie Ditches Ken
Apparently Barbie has ditched Ken after 43 years of companionship. She's run off with some Aussie guy and his cronies. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised to see Action Man and GI Joe cited in the divorce papers.
Great News For Fellow Geeks
LucasFilm have confirmed that the original Star Wars trilogy will at last be released on DVD later this year. They'll be digitally remastered and the extras will include deleted scenes, such as the infamous banquet hall scene where Skywalker sits down to eat with the Emperor and Vadar: Luke doesn't know the correct Jedi etiquette for eating his dessert of chocolate-covered Bantha cake. Should he use his lightsabre or not? As the tension builds and the Emperor starts hissing at him, Luke is saved by the ghost of Obi Wan coming to his rescue.
"Use the forks, Luke, use the forks!"
[The old one's -- from the 1970's -- are still the best. The Two Ronnies are even making a comeback. 'Ray!]
Tenner Reefy
Seems an age ago that we were in Tennerife, but it's actually only a month.
The first winter sun holiday that I've ever had, and it was a blessing. It's really broken the winter up. It wasn't terribly hot or sunny -- temperatures varied from 20 to 29 degrees and there was plenty of cloud -- but it beat a week of miserable rain and sleet.
India coped with the 4 hour flights well: a tactical bottle on take-off and landing, along with a good hour or so of sleep, helped soothe the potentially problematic travel arrangements for her and us. Babies travel on their parent's laps in the air until they are two years old. Although we coped we a pliant, good-natured and sleepy baby for 4 hours, the thought of trying to fly over to the States when she's a little bigger -- and has a lower attention-span -- fills me with dread. Dealing with Vic and her fear of flying is bad enough, but adding a screaming and squirming toddler into the mix sounds like a straw too much for this camel.
Tennerife was nasty. We stayed on the North side of the island: cooler and quieter than the Brits abroad South. Even so, it was incredibly commercialised, with English bar, German bar, English bar, German bar lining the streets. We even had a English Fish and Chips shop opposite our apartments.
How sophisticated.
Frankly, we ate far more Spanish food when we self-catered than when we ate out: There was a decent selection of local fresh fish on offer at the supermarket, and armed with Rick Stein's Seafood Odyssey, we made good use of it. Squid with chorizo and chilli, hake with potatoes, pan-fried mystery fish with salsa verde.
And the island is not baby buggy or disabled friendly. Everywhere is stepped -- a consequence of the island being nothing more than a banana-covered volcanoe thrusting it's snow-capped peak out of the ocean -- and getting back to the apartment required mountaineering skills. What amazed me is the fact that despite the island being less than suitable for the elderly, almost the whole tourist throng -- apart from a noticable and sizable gay guy presence -- was grey-haired.
So did we have a nice time?
Oh yes -- it was a great week away, and the trip up to the top of the mountain -- with its incredible Mars-like caldera and volcanic rocks -- was well worth the visit.
But I don't think I'd go back. It was just too commercialised and too "touristy". Even though it was low season and the town was quiet, we were still getting touted by restaurant owner and car rental agents at every turn. Heaven knows what the island is like in high season -- a complete hell hole by my reckoning. Hot, overcrowded, with nowhere to go and no escape.
The Hobbit
I read the Hobbit while we were away. I hadn't read it since I was 11 years old in 1982 -- when it was a magical book. Approaching it 21 years later, I was concerned that I would now be disappointed by it. Thankfully it turned out to be a wonderful read for adults too.
After the utter crap that was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire -- I refuse to read any more of JK Rowling's over-hyped, unoriginal, badly-written rubbish -- I can safely say that Bilbo Baggins pisses all over it.
Everyday India has a new trick to show us. Yesterday was her first day of being able to sit up by herself [big breakthrough]. The day before was the "screaching like a monkey" game. Saturday's was "playing peek-a-boo with my sick-covered bip". She is so special.
Barbie Ditches Ken
Apparently Barbie has ditched Ken after 43 years of companionship. She's run off with some Aussie guy and his cronies. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised to see Action Man and GI Joe cited in the divorce papers.
Great News For Fellow Geeks
LucasFilm have confirmed that the original Star Wars trilogy will at last be released on DVD later this year. They'll be digitally remastered and the extras will include deleted scenes, such as the infamous banquet hall scene where Skywalker sits down to eat with the Emperor and Vadar: Luke doesn't know the correct Jedi etiquette for eating his dessert of chocolate-covered Bantha cake. Should he use his lightsabre or not? As the tension builds and the Emperor starts hissing at him, Luke is saved by the ghost of Obi Wan coming to his rescue.
"Use the forks, Luke, use the forks!"
[The old one's -- from the 1970's -- are still the best. The Two Ronnies are even making a comeback. 'Ray!]
Tenner Reefy
Seems an age ago that we were in Tennerife, but it's actually only a month.
The first winter sun holiday that I've ever had, and it was a blessing. It's really broken the winter up. It wasn't terribly hot or sunny -- temperatures varied from 20 to 29 degrees and there was plenty of cloud -- but it beat a week of miserable rain and sleet.
India coped with the 4 hour flights well: a tactical bottle on take-off and landing, along with a good hour or so of sleep, helped soothe the potentially problematic travel arrangements for her and us. Babies travel on their parent's laps in the air until they are two years old. Although we coped we a pliant, good-natured and sleepy baby for 4 hours, the thought of trying to fly over to the States when she's a little bigger -- and has a lower attention-span -- fills me with dread. Dealing with Vic and her fear of flying is bad enough, but adding a screaming and squirming toddler into the mix sounds like a straw too much for this camel.
Tennerife was nasty. We stayed on the North side of the island: cooler and quieter than the Brits abroad South. Even so, it was incredibly commercialised, with English bar, German bar, English bar, German bar lining the streets. We even had a English Fish and Chips shop opposite our apartments.
How sophisticated.
Frankly, we ate far more Spanish food when we self-catered than when we ate out: There was a decent selection of local fresh fish on offer at the supermarket, and armed with Rick Stein's Seafood Odyssey, we made good use of it. Squid with chorizo and chilli, hake with potatoes, pan-fried mystery fish with salsa verde.
And the island is not baby buggy or disabled friendly. Everywhere is stepped -- a consequence of the island being nothing more than a banana-covered volcanoe thrusting it's snow-capped peak out of the ocean -- and getting back to the apartment required mountaineering skills. What amazed me is the fact that despite the island being less than suitable for the elderly, almost the whole tourist throng -- apart from a noticable and sizable gay guy presence -- was grey-haired.
So did we have a nice time?
Oh yes -- it was a great week away, and the trip up to the top of the mountain -- with its incredible Mars-like caldera and volcanic rocks -- was well worth the visit.
But I don't think I'd go back. It was just too commercialised and too "touristy". Even though it was low season and the town was quiet, we were still getting touted by restaurant owner and car rental agents at every turn. Heaven knows what the island is like in high season -- a complete hell hole by my reckoning. Hot, overcrowded, with nowhere to go and no escape.
The Hobbit
I read the Hobbit while we were away. I hadn't read it since I was 11 years old in 1982 -- when it was a magical book. Approaching it 21 years later, I was concerned that I would now be disappointed by it. Thankfully it turned out to be a wonderful read for adults too.
After the utter crap that was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire -- I refuse to read any more of JK Rowling's over-hyped, unoriginal, badly-written rubbish -- I can safely say that Bilbo Baggins pisses all over it.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Be Careful What You Wish For
28th Jan 04, 09:30 Nobby laments lack of snow. Wishes that there were a couple of inches -- enough to build a snowman and cluster bomb his work colleagues.
16:52 Snow blizzard starts in High Wycombe.
16:58 Nobby leaves work.
17:00 So does everyone else.
17:01 High Wycombe -- and all roads leading out of the town -- is gridlocked.
17:40 Nobby has driven 200 yards -- 200 yards more than most people driving from the Cressex Business Estate.
18:45 Nobby has driven 1 mile and is queuing to get on the road to Lane End.
19:00 Nobby hasn't moved more than two feet, so turns car around (random woman gives Nobby a V-sign) and drives back into High Wycombe, cuts off corner of town and drives out along West Wycombe road and then towards Princes Risborough.
19:01 The road is clear of serious traffic -- Nobby curses his luck -- he should have gone this way in the first place.
19:20 Nobby grinds to a halt outside Saunderton at the back of a 2 mile long traffic queue that's going nowhere. He considers ditching car and walking in the snow to Saunderton railway station to catch a train back to Thame. Instead, he drives up winding country road towards Bledlow and Chinnor.
19:40 After a couple of minor skids, Nobby stops car for a wee. Spoils field of virgin white snow. Cannot try to write his name in snow due to lack of light. Whilst relieving himself at the top of a rise, Nobby can see that all the major trunk roads in the area are clogged. Car headlamps twinkle forlornly in the distance.
20:00 Nobby arrives back in Thame. The town is an ice rink of compacted snow. None of the roads have been salted.
21:10 Vicster arrives home after a four hour trip back from Marlow. Her 30 minutes journey took four hours, my 25 mins journey a mere three.
Sorry everyone, it was my fault and I didn't even get to build a snowman...
Be careful what you wish for.
28th Jan 04, 09:30 Nobby laments lack of snow. Wishes that there were a couple of inches -- enough to build a snowman and cluster bomb his work colleagues.
16:52 Snow blizzard starts in High Wycombe.
16:58 Nobby leaves work.
17:00 So does everyone else.
17:01 High Wycombe -- and all roads leading out of the town -- is gridlocked.
17:40 Nobby has driven 200 yards -- 200 yards more than most people driving from the Cressex Business Estate.
18:45 Nobby has driven 1 mile and is queuing to get on the road to Lane End.
19:00 Nobby hasn't moved more than two feet, so turns car around (random woman gives Nobby a V-sign) and drives back into High Wycombe, cuts off corner of town and drives out along West Wycombe road and then towards Princes Risborough.
19:01 The road is clear of serious traffic -- Nobby curses his luck -- he should have gone this way in the first place.
19:20 Nobby grinds to a halt outside Saunderton at the back of a 2 mile long traffic queue that's going nowhere. He considers ditching car and walking in the snow to Saunderton railway station to catch a train back to Thame. Instead, he drives up winding country road towards Bledlow and Chinnor.
19:40 After a couple of minor skids, Nobby stops car for a wee. Spoils field of virgin white snow. Cannot try to write his name in snow due to lack of light. Whilst relieving himself at the top of a rise, Nobby can see that all the major trunk roads in the area are clogged. Car headlamps twinkle forlornly in the distance.
20:00 Nobby arrives back in Thame. The town is an ice rink of compacted snow. None of the roads have been salted.
21:10 Vicster arrives home after a four hour trip back from Marlow. Her 30 minutes journey took four hours, my 25 mins journey a mere three.
Sorry everyone, it was my fault and I didn't even get to build a snowman...
Be careful what you wish for.
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Bad Day For Students
I feel let down by Tony Blair over the "won" vote on university top-up fees. He's broken one of his manifesto promises, and I don't think the policy's knock-on effects have been properly assessed.
I wouldn't have gone to university if these fees had been in place when I went and I fear that they will put off many lower-income and middle-class kids from going in the future.
Bad judgement call Tony.
I won't be voting labour next time.
I feel let down by Tony Blair over the "won" vote on university top-up fees. He's broken one of his manifesto promises, and I don't think the policy's knock-on effects have been properly assessed.
I wouldn't have gone to university if these fees had been in place when I went and I fear that they will put off many lower-income and middle-class kids from going in the future.
Bad judgement call Tony.
I won't be voting labour next time.
