He shoots, he scores.
Unusually for me, I haven’t had the urge to get out of bed & pester neddies on the last four gloriously sunny days of night duty.
So I decided that come what may, on my 1st day off today I would definitely get up early & go.
In the fog. And the wind.
The 2 don’t usually go together but they did today.
I arrived at the stables to find the neddies stood around in the field. Bad sign. For the last few weeks they’ve been sheltering in the barn. This means Snips is bored & cold & therefore easier to catch.
As soon as they venture onto the green stuff I know I’ve got my work cut out to catch him. He’ll be difficult to catch until approximately December now.
We commenced our usual game of cat & mouse. I approach with a proffered hand full of feed & honeyed tones. He regards me with deep suspicion & turns his backside towards me, threatening to kick.
For the last 7 years, threatening is all he’s ever done.
The game concludes as soon as I get a hand on him. For some reason, at that point he thinks he can’t move & I am able to put a halter on him.
Slightly different outcome today.
I put a hand on his rump.
He booted me in the ribs.
Still determined to catch him, I reasoned there was no point beating him senseless with the headcollar as then I’d never be able to get near him. Some 20 minutes later when I realised it was pointless trying to catch him, it would have been fruitless to wallop him then (although it would have made me feel better).
On the upside the kick wasn’t a full-strength one, if it had been I would have been in trouble, it was more like ‘You’re really pi55ing me off, please leave me alone’. On the downside my mouth was open as he kicked me & my jaws clattered together leaving me with a humdinger of a headache.
Having thrown my toys out of the pram as far as Snippet was concerned, I flounced off to ride Hannah.
That’ll learn him.
So having been attacked by the nice-natured neddy I then went to ride the hormonal one, praying she’d be gentle with me.
And what do you know ? She was.
Which just goes to show – horses, can’t trust ‘em.
Cx
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
All for one ?
I have always enjoyed feeding birds.
Stuart will tell gleefully of how I was dubbed ‘Bird woman of Upper Norwood’ after my pigeon feeding exploits there. Nothing deterred by early morning inclement weather I would potter out to my tiny garden dressed in a voluminous blue dressing gown & Barbour wellies. Shortly thereafter the skies above SE19 would darken as 64,000 wood pigeons converged upon my bag of corn.
‘Come my pretties’
Who could have foreseen the council would take such a dim view ?
Anyhoo – the practice continues here in KT1. I don’t let a lack of garden lead to the spoilment of my enjoyment & cheerfully dangle assorted feeders from open window latches.
I have been rewarded with a constant stream of birds to the feeders, even robins, which aren’t supposed to like hanging from feeders. I’ve also seen chaffinches, greenfinches, coal tits & haw finches. By far the most numerous though are the blue tits.
I watched one today as I stared out of the window in the fashion of a dog waiting for it’s owner at the supermarket. I was astonished by what I saw. I can’t be sure if it was the same bird, but it always arrived at the feeder via the same route, over a particular garage roof & it’s behaviour got me to thinking.
Dainty, agile little birds, the blue tits have no problems hanging & selecting peanuts. The more cumbersome wood pigeons scavenge in John’s garden below, looking for bits the blue tits have dropped. (John is my very pleasant, perfectly amenable elderly neighbour whose only foible would appear to be the uncontrollable Tourette’s-type shouted rages he indulges in for no apparent reason – scares the hell out of me when I’m quietly blogging, I can tell you)
As I watched today’s bluey, I realised he was selecting peanuts as normal but rather than eat them there or fly away with them, he was dropping them to the ground where the fat, amiable woodies were enjoying them. He would drop about a dozen, then select one to eat.
I wondered at first if he was a fussy eater, simply rejecting sub-standard nuts. Upon closer inspection, the nuts he was dropping were perfect & identical to the ones he was eating.
It begs the question, can birds indulge in altruistic behaviour ? More
specifically – altruistic behaviour which benefits another species.
Discuss.
Michelle,
OK, I’m busted.
My name’s Carol, I’m 36 years old & I hate using the phone.
There I’ve said it.
Some people, like you & Bill are brilliant with the phone & enjoy using it, then there’s me, Eric & Murray.
Cx
I have always enjoyed feeding birds.
Stuart will tell gleefully of how I was dubbed ‘Bird woman of Upper Norwood’ after my pigeon feeding exploits there. Nothing deterred by early morning inclement weather I would potter out to my tiny garden dressed in a voluminous blue dressing gown & Barbour wellies. Shortly thereafter the skies above SE19 would darken as 64,000 wood pigeons converged upon my bag of corn.
‘Come my pretties’
Who could have foreseen the council would take such a dim view ?
Anyhoo – the practice continues here in KT1. I don’t let a lack of garden lead to the spoilment of my enjoyment & cheerfully dangle assorted feeders from open window latches.
I have been rewarded with a constant stream of birds to the feeders, even robins, which aren’t supposed to like hanging from feeders. I’ve also seen chaffinches, greenfinches, coal tits & haw finches. By far the most numerous though are the blue tits.
I watched one today as I stared out of the window in the fashion of a dog waiting for it’s owner at the supermarket. I was astonished by what I saw. I can’t be sure if it was the same bird, but it always arrived at the feeder via the same route, over a particular garage roof & it’s behaviour got me to thinking.
Dainty, agile little birds, the blue tits have no problems hanging & selecting peanuts. The more cumbersome wood pigeons scavenge in John’s garden below, looking for bits the blue tits have dropped. (John is my very pleasant, perfectly amenable elderly neighbour whose only foible would appear to be the uncontrollable Tourette’s-type shouted rages he indulges in for no apparent reason – scares the hell out of me when I’m quietly blogging, I can tell you)
As I watched today’s bluey, I realised he was selecting peanuts as normal but rather than eat them there or fly away with them, he was dropping them to the ground where the fat, amiable woodies were enjoying them. He would drop about a dozen, then select one to eat.
I wondered at first if he was a fussy eater, simply rejecting sub-standard nuts. Upon closer inspection, the nuts he was dropping were perfect & identical to the ones he was eating.
It begs the question, can birds indulge in altruistic behaviour ? More
specifically – altruistic behaviour which benefits another species.
Discuss.
Michelle,
OK, I’m busted.
My name’s Carol, I’m 36 years old & I hate using the phone.
There I’ve said it.
Some people, like you & Bill are brilliant with the phone & enjoy using it, then there’s me, Eric & Murray.
Cx
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Babies, shopping, Bloo, gym stubbornness, pub quiz, plans & Being straightforward.
Time ; 1537
Listening to ; FEEDER ‘Comfort in Sound’
Just ; awake after my 1st night duty
I have forsaken neddy-pestering on this bright, sunny day to catch up here, I hope you lot appreciate this ?
So what’s been happening in the two weeks since Rutland ?
Summer has happened. The sequence of seasons this year has been, winter, winter, winter ….. SUMMER ! It has gate-crashed in a truly spectacular fashion. Spring didn’t even get a look in. Spring was left rudely trampled face-down in the dirt by Summer in her haste to throw her coat off & order a Pimms. One day it was 40 denier tights, scarf & gloves. The next it’s gipsy boho chic, muslins & gossamer tops. Very scary & confusing for flesh which has been swaddled for 4 months.
Last Thursday the 17th was Derv’s leaving do. I was very sad to see him go. I will refer you to Milk Yuk’s account for 2 reasons 1) It saves me time & 2) If I can’t do it funnier I’m not doing it at all …
I called in to see Cocky after riding her neddy Snippet this Wednesday. If you’ve been paying attention you’ll remember Cocky has just had twin girls & moved house in the same week. To be factually correct she re-moved into a house that she & her family had vacated for 6 months for building work.
I remember seeing the house on day 1. It had just been vacated by an old guy who had lived there for 50 years without an alteration. As Cocky & Garth showed me around full of enthusiasm & plans, one thought bounced around my head ‘Why ?’ ‘Why would you move from your last house, which you had just finished ?’ I am one of those people who can never see the potential in old buildings. I like them, don’t get me wrong, it’s just when people say ‘…& then we’ll knock this through & build a gazebo/spa pool/child torture pit here …’ I just look & think ‘Hard work’.
I am happy to report I was completely bowled over with Cocky’s place now, it was like walking into a different house.
It is immensely stylish, beautifully finished & shows such thought in planning & I couldn’t be more thrilled for her. She gave me the grand tour & unlike some people who spring to mind, didn’t take glee in recounting every cost & being insufferably ‘me me me’ about it. With it’s cool tones & unfussy lines the best way I can describe it is it’s like booking into one of those health spa stately homes for the weekend.
Oh & the babies slept the whole time I was there.
Cocky reports already that they are ‘nothing like Harry’ which has to be a relief. She looks utterly exhausted & incredibly thin (note to self, twins give you jutting cheekbones, is it worth it ? NO. ) however, she has her mum there helping her for a few weeks easing the strain. Garth’s mum has just done her stint & her leaving has eased the strain too – bad Briggsy. (She keeps trying to get Cocky to wear metallic sandals, need I say more ? She has now been told she can ride in 3 months – hurry Cocky, hurry.
Cocky’s response to my question ‘What’s the most useful thing I could get you for the girls ?’ was prompt & to the point ‘Nappies’. So for the 1st time in my life I found myself trying to choose nappies from the bewildering display in Sainsburys. 15kgs is about right for newborn isn’t it ?
Ruminating in the ‘Baskets Only’ queue my eye was caught by the ‘Self Pay’ tills. How hard could that be ?
I dumped the nappies to the right of the scanner, pressed the ‘Commence’ button & we were away.
‘Three pounds ninety-nine pence’ the Posh Lady on the computer intoned as I showed the tiny man in the scanner machine the 1st pack of nappies. Childsplay
I transferred the nappies to the left of the scanner intending to put all four packs in the bags once I had completed scanning them.
'Unexpected obstacle in the bag packing area’ a stern male voice informed me. I looked around to see if anyone had heard. The line of people queuing behind me looked at me as if I had been caught eating dung. I regarded the ‘bag packing area’ with alarm, wondering what ‘unexpected obstacle’ the stern man could be referring to ? Observing nothing untoward I applied my ostrich’s logic to the problem & returned to package no 2 of nappies.
I showed it to Posh Lady. Posh lady remained tight-lipped. I showed it again, at a slightly more oblique angle to Posh Lady. Nothing. Stern man said again (slightly more forcefully this time) ‘Unexpected obstacle in the bag packing area’ in a tone which suggested I had better goddamn do something about it.
Glancing again, I realised what he was talking about. The nappies which I hadn’t put in a bag. How can something you’ve just scanned & put in the ‘Bag packing area’ possibly be ‘An Unexpected Obstacle in the bag packing area’ ? Oh well, live & learn Briggsy. So I walked past the scanner with the 2nd package of nappies to pack the 1st one.
‘Three pounds ninety-nine pence’ said Posh Lady, slightly sarcastically. I looked around wondering why she had said it, then realised she had scanned the 2nd pack of nappies in my arms. How ? I hadn’t even shown it to the tiny man in the scanner.
I didn’t even look at the people behind me this time.
Having successfully packed both packs of nappies I managed to scan the remaining 2 without incident. I thought I was home & dry until I decided that I would transfer 2 packs into a separate carrier bag. This, it seemed, was a Big Mistake. Stern Man repeated himself until he was blue in the face to the effect that ‘There is an unexpected …’ ‘Yeah yeah I know, I’m trying to sort it out, what’s your problem ?’ I found myself muttering to him. His wife’s probably having an affair I decided.
It was then time to pay. The choice was straightforward ‘Cash or Card’. ‘Card’ I pressed confidently, in the manner of someone who uses computers on a daily basis & displaying to those waiting some attempt at regaining control of the situation. It was short-lived however as my eyes began flicking over the contraption in front of me wondering where the hell I was supposed to ‘Insert Card Now’. I was expecting to see the sort of slot similar to the ones on an ATM machine. No, no, no. Just at the point I was considering leaving the nappies & fleeing red-faced for the door, I spotted it, one of those chip & pin jobbies perched precariously on top of the machine mocking me with it’s slitty, swipey smile.
Having retrieved my card I set about replacing it in my purse.
‘Remove your goods’ said Posh Lady in a voice which implied ‘Get the f**k out & don’t come back’. She said it 3 times before I was ready to leave.
I have come to the conclusion that there is a very talented mimic who sits behind a one-way mirror situated near these machines. He gets his kicks from mocking people like me. He’ll get his.
In hindsight swapping pleasantries with ‘Tracey’ on ‘Baskets Only’ is a more civilised option.
Wednesday was also the day for a much overdue catch up call with Bloo. I am rubbish at answering my phone on rest days. Bloo knows & accepts this. It’s for the simple reason that if it’s a rest day I’m neddy pestering & as there’s nothing I’d rather be doing, I am loathe to let a phone disturb me.
Bloo’s 1st call came just after the beginning of ‘Galvanize’ on the radio. Telling him how lucky he was that I answered, we commenced Part 1 of our catch up, until the Headley village black spot terminated our call.
With uncanny timing, his 2nd call in the evening came just as The Stereophonics had commenced ‘Dakota’, another track I can’t ignore at the moment. We finished our chat from earlier with a promise to meet up for a drink. I didn’t tell you this Bloo, but your call kept me company in the tailback from one end of Leatherhead Road to the other, so it really was good timing.
The last time I did any exercise was in January when I was running daily during the work I did at Hendon for the tsunami. Invigorated by Summer’s sudden appearance I headed for the gym to reacquaint myself with sweat.
Question – is there anything more frustrating than stepping on to the treadmill & switching on your CD to find that rather than the 160bpm ‘Beyond Euphoria’ which you thought you had brought/bought (you were right Milk Yuk, the words are in fact interchangeable as you thought, I apologise) you have in fact loaded the very similar in appearance 4bpm ‘Chillout Ibiza’ CD. Ever tried running at 4bpm ? It’s not possible.
Switching to MTV for audio instead, I discovered ‘Platinum Eminem’ which is where things started to get interesting. Eminem does something to me. I am no longer a white, 30 something, respectable job-holding female. I become The Slim Briggsy, a mixed race, testosterone-fuelled misogynist, more at home dodging the law than working for them. I can only just stop short of grabbing my crotch when I watch him.
You might think from this that I don’t like Eminem. You’d be wrong, I find him compulsive. What about his lyrics Briggsy ? Don’t they really hack you off ? No, because he’s as much cabaret as Jane McDonald is. It’s an act & a damn good one at that.
I feel the urge to steal cars & burn things when I listen to Eminem. Luckily both are out of my system now that I am a growed up. Well, the stealing cars one anyway hey Mum ? ‘If they didn’t want you to take it why leave the keys’ was my motto. Ahem.
And so, I commenced running with ‘My name is, my name is, my name is …’ pounding in my head. I planned to run for 20 minutes & no more, having not run in 2 months. Unfortunately the guy on the treadmill next to me left before my 20 minutes was up, meaning that a new person arrived & started running. For reasons which are obvious if you know anyone from Yorkshire, I couldn’t stop running before he did. After he had done his 20, a small fit looking girl got on. I know for a fact that she got on deliberately during ‘Lose yourself’ which is impossible not to run to, so in the end I had to wait til she vacated the treadmill. All of which meant I ran for 45 minutes. And man did I feel great. So great I went & churned up & down the pool for 30 lengths.
Great that is, until Thursday morning. Driving to a meeting on my rest day my legs were shaking as I changed gears.
I’m aiming for the gym tonight, I will only run for 30 minutes. Honest.
Our pub quiz team continues to flourish. This Tuesday saw a very poor turnout (only 5 compared to the usual 12/13) rewarded with a joint 2nd. That’s now a 3rd, a 1st & 2 seconds & if you’re wondering (& I would be) there are usually about 15 teams.
Derv was on inspirational form, plucking seemingly impossible answers from nowhere. The Aztecs & The Dallai Lama (sp ?) were 2 of his more amazing answers. Jim joined us for the 1st time. Jim’s glee in answering a difficult question was such that no-one had the heart to point out that the answer he had provided was in fact, part of the original question. That’s a lie actually, we all pointed it out.
Half time entertainment came in the form of firing peanuts towards Milk Yuk’s open mouth. He covered the upper & lower portions of his face, thus unaware that Andy was taking a run up to launch the missiles, the aim being not to get them in Milk Yuk’s gob but to inflict the maximum amount of pain anywhere that the peanut made contact. Our usual pub team name (inspired by MTM) of ‘Ken Dodd’s dad’s dog’s dead’ was replaced this week by ‘Council Housed And Violent’ in homage to the 3 youths sitting opposite us, one of whom Milk Yuk had previously nicked for disqual driving. Nice pub.
Last night was D team’s 1st night duty. It was hideously busy, courtesy of the fact that Kingston’s populace had responded to the Bank Holiday in the time-honoured tradition. I should be doing all seven nights but as we all have to use up our annual leave prior to April, I am off for the last 3 meaning I only have to do 4 this week. I plan to collect Barley on the Tuesday/Wednesday & head off to do lot of ‘healthy outdoors stuff’.
If all goes to plan I should have her for seven days – yay !
‘Mummy love Barley – Barley love Mummy ?’
The 1st of April will see me heading up the A1 to Yorks to see Mummeh. We plan walks, talks & shopping. I also plan to drive Mummeh’s Subaru. Mummeh doesn’t know this yet.
I will take my leave now & leave you with an observation & a question.
Aren’t straightforward people the business ? Mean what they say, say what they mean – would that everyone was the same, so refreshing, so Heineken.
If I were to say the words ‘tap-dancing weirdo’ which British dancer springs to mind ?
Messages
Murray
I love the new look & I know you’ll be tweaking it for ages, so may I make 2 observations ? The pictures look stunning on the black background & it’s a very clean, professional look. However, although the peach text is readable, the main body of the text is difficult to read against the black. I am currently high-lighting it to read. Also the font & colour of ‘Coffee Waffle’ does not sit well with the rest.
ps. You may want to ask Bloo for some tips on the actual photography ;)
Kevin
Well done mate, I hope things get a little easier now. What is it you’ll be doing ?
Jim
Stick with it for the following reasons
1) The dragon stuff is funny.
2) It makes you feel better (it does me anyway)
3) The septics dig you. I realise this isn’t a glowing
recommendation, but everyone likes to be appreciated.
4) It's not whinging, it's observational.
Everyone
Buy The Stereophonics ‘Language. Sex. Violence. Other ?’
Trust me.
Cx
Time ; 1537
Listening to ; FEEDER ‘Comfort in Sound’
Just ; awake after my 1st night duty
I have forsaken neddy-pestering on this bright, sunny day to catch up here, I hope you lot appreciate this ?
So what’s been happening in the two weeks since Rutland ?
Summer has happened. The sequence of seasons this year has been, winter, winter, winter ….. SUMMER ! It has gate-crashed in a truly spectacular fashion. Spring didn’t even get a look in. Spring was left rudely trampled face-down in the dirt by Summer in her haste to throw her coat off & order a Pimms. One day it was 40 denier tights, scarf & gloves. The next it’s gipsy boho chic, muslins & gossamer tops. Very scary & confusing for flesh which has been swaddled for 4 months.
Last Thursday the 17th was Derv’s leaving do. I was very sad to see him go. I will refer you to Milk Yuk’s account for 2 reasons 1) It saves me time & 2) If I can’t do it funnier I’m not doing it at all …
I called in to see Cocky after riding her neddy Snippet this Wednesday. If you’ve been paying attention you’ll remember Cocky has just had twin girls & moved house in the same week. To be factually correct she re-moved into a house that she & her family had vacated for 6 months for building work.
I remember seeing the house on day 1. It had just been vacated by an old guy who had lived there for 50 years without an alteration. As Cocky & Garth showed me around full of enthusiasm & plans, one thought bounced around my head ‘Why ?’ ‘Why would you move from your last house, which you had just finished ?’ I am one of those people who can never see the potential in old buildings. I like them, don’t get me wrong, it’s just when people say ‘…& then we’ll knock this through & build a gazebo/spa pool/child torture pit here …’ I just look & think ‘Hard work’.
I am happy to report I was completely bowled over with Cocky’s place now, it was like walking into a different house.
It is immensely stylish, beautifully finished & shows such thought in planning & I couldn’t be more thrilled for her. She gave me the grand tour & unlike some people who spring to mind, didn’t take glee in recounting every cost & being insufferably ‘me me me’ about it. With it’s cool tones & unfussy lines the best way I can describe it is it’s like booking into one of those health spa stately homes for the weekend.
Oh & the babies slept the whole time I was there.
Cocky reports already that they are ‘nothing like Harry’ which has to be a relief. She looks utterly exhausted & incredibly thin (note to self, twins give you jutting cheekbones, is it worth it ? NO. ) however, she has her mum there helping her for a few weeks easing the strain. Garth’s mum has just done her stint & her leaving has eased the strain too – bad Briggsy. (She keeps trying to get Cocky to wear metallic sandals, need I say more ? She has now been told she can ride in 3 months – hurry Cocky, hurry.
Cocky’s response to my question ‘What’s the most useful thing I could get you for the girls ?’ was prompt & to the point ‘Nappies’. So for the 1st time in my life I found myself trying to choose nappies from the bewildering display in Sainsburys. 15kgs is about right for newborn isn’t it ?
Ruminating in the ‘Baskets Only’ queue my eye was caught by the ‘Self Pay’ tills. How hard could that be ?
I dumped the nappies to the right of the scanner, pressed the ‘Commence’ button & we were away.
‘Three pounds ninety-nine pence’ the Posh Lady on the computer intoned as I showed the tiny man in the scanner machine the 1st pack of nappies. Childsplay
I transferred the nappies to the left of the scanner intending to put all four packs in the bags once I had completed scanning them.
'Unexpected obstacle in the bag packing area’ a stern male voice informed me. I looked around to see if anyone had heard. The line of people queuing behind me looked at me as if I had been caught eating dung. I regarded the ‘bag packing area’ with alarm, wondering what ‘unexpected obstacle’ the stern man could be referring to ? Observing nothing untoward I applied my ostrich’s logic to the problem & returned to package no 2 of nappies.
I showed it to Posh Lady. Posh lady remained tight-lipped. I showed it again, at a slightly more oblique angle to Posh Lady. Nothing. Stern man said again (slightly more forcefully this time) ‘Unexpected obstacle in the bag packing area’ in a tone which suggested I had better goddamn do something about it.
Glancing again, I realised what he was talking about. The nappies which I hadn’t put in a bag. How can something you’ve just scanned & put in the ‘Bag packing area’ possibly be ‘An Unexpected Obstacle in the bag packing area’ ? Oh well, live & learn Briggsy. So I walked past the scanner with the 2nd package of nappies to pack the 1st one.
‘Three pounds ninety-nine pence’ said Posh Lady, slightly sarcastically. I looked around wondering why she had said it, then realised she had scanned the 2nd pack of nappies in my arms. How ? I hadn’t even shown it to the tiny man in the scanner.
I didn’t even look at the people behind me this time.
Having successfully packed both packs of nappies I managed to scan the remaining 2 without incident. I thought I was home & dry until I decided that I would transfer 2 packs into a separate carrier bag. This, it seemed, was a Big Mistake. Stern Man repeated himself until he was blue in the face to the effect that ‘There is an unexpected …’ ‘Yeah yeah I know, I’m trying to sort it out, what’s your problem ?’ I found myself muttering to him. His wife’s probably having an affair I decided.
It was then time to pay. The choice was straightforward ‘Cash or Card’. ‘Card’ I pressed confidently, in the manner of someone who uses computers on a daily basis & displaying to those waiting some attempt at regaining control of the situation. It was short-lived however as my eyes began flicking over the contraption in front of me wondering where the hell I was supposed to ‘Insert Card Now’. I was expecting to see the sort of slot similar to the ones on an ATM machine. No, no, no. Just at the point I was considering leaving the nappies & fleeing red-faced for the door, I spotted it, one of those chip & pin jobbies perched precariously on top of the machine mocking me with it’s slitty, swipey smile.
Having retrieved my card I set about replacing it in my purse.
‘Remove your goods’ said Posh Lady in a voice which implied ‘Get the f**k out & don’t come back’. She said it 3 times before I was ready to leave.
I have come to the conclusion that there is a very talented mimic who sits behind a one-way mirror situated near these machines. He gets his kicks from mocking people like me. He’ll get his.
In hindsight swapping pleasantries with ‘Tracey’ on ‘Baskets Only’ is a more civilised option.
Wednesday was also the day for a much overdue catch up call with Bloo. I am rubbish at answering my phone on rest days. Bloo knows & accepts this. It’s for the simple reason that if it’s a rest day I’m neddy pestering & as there’s nothing I’d rather be doing, I am loathe to let a phone disturb me.
Bloo’s 1st call came just after the beginning of ‘Galvanize’ on the radio. Telling him how lucky he was that I answered, we commenced Part 1 of our catch up, until the Headley village black spot terminated our call.
With uncanny timing, his 2nd call in the evening came just as The Stereophonics had commenced ‘Dakota’, another track I can’t ignore at the moment. We finished our chat from earlier with a promise to meet up for a drink. I didn’t tell you this Bloo, but your call kept me company in the tailback from one end of Leatherhead Road to the other, so it really was good timing.
The last time I did any exercise was in January when I was running daily during the work I did at Hendon for the tsunami. Invigorated by Summer’s sudden appearance I headed for the gym to reacquaint myself with sweat.
Question – is there anything more frustrating than stepping on to the treadmill & switching on your CD to find that rather than the 160bpm ‘Beyond Euphoria’ which you thought you had brought/bought (you were right Milk Yuk, the words are in fact interchangeable as you thought, I apologise) you have in fact loaded the very similar in appearance 4bpm ‘Chillout Ibiza’ CD. Ever tried running at 4bpm ? It’s not possible.
Switching to MTV for audio instead, I discovered ‘Platinum Eminem’ which is where things started to get interesting. Eminem does something to me. I am no longer a white, 30 something, respectable job-holding female. I become The Slim Briggsy, a mixed race, testosterone-fuelled misogynist, more at home dodging the law than working for them. I can only just stop short of grabbing my crotch when I watch him.
You might think from this that I don’t like Eminem. You’d be wrong, I find him compulsive. What about his lyrics Briggsy ? Don’t they really hack you off ? No, because he’s as much cabaret as Jane McDonald is. It’s an act & a damn good one at that.
I feel the urge to steal cars & burn things when I listen to Eminem. Luckily both are out of my system now that I am a growed up. Well, the stealing cars one anyway hey Mum ? ‘If they didn’t want you to take it why leave the keys’ was my motto. Ahem.
And so, I commenced running with ‘My name is, my name is, my name is …’ pounding in my head. I planned to run for 20 minutes & no more, having not run in 2 months. Unfortunately the guy on the treadmill next to me left before my 20 minutes was up, meaning that a new person arrived & started running. For reasons which are obvious if you know anyone from Yorkshire, I couldn’t stop running before he did. After he had done his 20, a small fit looking girl got on. I know for a fact that she got on deliberately during ‘Lose yourself’ which is impossible not to run to, so in the end I had to wait til she vacated the treadmill. All of which meant I ran for 45 minutes. And man did I feel great. So great I went & churned up & down the pool for 30 lengths.
Great that is, until Thursday morning. Driving to a meeting on my rest day my legs were shaking as I changed gears.
I’m aiming for the gym tonight, I will only run for 30 minutes. Honest.
Our pub quiz team continues to flourish. This Tuesday saw a very poor turnout (only 5 compared to the usual 12/13) rewarded with a joint 2nd. That’s now a 3rd, a 1st & 2 seconds & if you’re wondering (& I would be) there are usually about 15 teams.
Derv was on inspirational form, plucking seemingly impossible answers from nowhere. The Aztecs & The Dallai Lama (sp ?) were 2 of his more amazing answers. Jim joined us for the 1st time. Jim’s glee in answering a difficult question was such that no-one had the heart to point out that the answer he had provided was in fact, part of the original question. That’s a lie actually, we all pointed it out.
Half time entertainment came in the form of firing peanuts towards Milk Yuk’s open mouth. He covered the upper & lower portions of his face, thus unaware that Andy was taking a run up to launch the missiles, the aim being not to get them in Milk Yuk’s gob but to inflict the maximum amount of pain anywhere that the peanut made contact. Our usual pub team name (inspired by MTM) of ‘Ken Dodd’s dad’s dog’s dead’ was replaced this week by ‘Council Housed And Violent’ in homage to the 3 youths sitting opposite us, one of whom Milk Yuk had previously nicked for disqual driving. Nice pub.
Last night was D team’s 1st night duty. It was hideously busy, courtesy of the fact that Kingston’s populace had responded to the Bank Holiday in the time-honoured tradition. I should be doing all seven nights but as we all have to use up our annual leave prior to April, I am off for the last 3 meaning I only have to do 4 this week. I plan to collect Barley on the Tuesday/Wednesday & head off to do lot of ‘healthy outdoors stuff’.
If all goes to plan I should have her for seven days – yay !
‘Mummy love Barley – Barley love Mummy ?’
The 1st of April will see me heading up the A1 to Yorks to see Mummeh. We plan walks, talks & shopping. I also plan to drive Mummeh’s Subaru. Mummeh doesn’t know this yet.
I will take my leave now & leave you with an observation & a question.
Aren’t straightforward people the business ? Mean what they say, say what they mean – would that everyone was the same, so refreshing, so Heineken.
If I were to say the words ‘tap-dancing weirdo’ which British dancer springs to mind ?
Messages
Murray
I love the new look & I know you’ll be tweaking it for ages, so may I make 2 observations ? The pictures look stunning on the black background & it’s a very clean, professional look. However, although the peach text is readable, the main body of the text is difficult to read against the black. I am currently high-lighting it to read. Also the font & colour of ‘Coffee Waffle’ does not sit well with the rest.
ps. You may want to ask Bloo for some tips on the actual photography ;)
Kevin
Well done mate, I hope things get a little easier now. What is it you’ll be doing ?
Jim
Stick with it for the following reasons
1) The dragon stuff is funny.
2) It makes you feel better (it does me anyway)
3) The septics dig you. I realise this isn’t a glowing
recommendation, but everyone likes to be appreciated.
4) It's not whinging, it's observational.
Everyone
Buy The Stereophonics ‘Language. Sex. Violence. Other ?’
Trust me.
Cx
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Life of Briggsy.
Bits and pieces and the weekend.
Time : 2333
Music : ‘Beyond Euphoria’
Lighting : Candlelight
I have a few things to tell you about so this will be a bit of a random catch up.
On Friday night I headed North to Rutland (about half way up since people kept asking me, smallest county in England, motto of which ‘Multim in parvo’ means ‘Much in little’ and it’s true.)
You may remember my friends Malcolm & Justine live there.
Oddly, Justine was in bed when I arrived at 2315, which was strange as she’s usually a night-owl. Malcolm had waited up to greet me, which was even odder, as he’s definitely a lark. Wondering if they’d had a blue I turned in for the night.
Over breakfast I asked Justine if she was ok.
‘Fine’ came the reply, ‘apart from this’ at which she pulled one of those sodding scan photos from her handbag.
I put my hands over my eyes & ears determined not to hear the news.
Actually, I recall now to my shame that I told her to ‘f**k off’ but it was meant in the best of spirits.
She & Malcolm have been ‘trying for a baby’ (how I hate that phrase but nothing else does) for a little over a year now & I was convinced he was a jaffa. If that sounds disrespectful, it’s not, I’ve been saying it to his face too.
Every time we meet Justine & I express relief that neither of us talks about nappy rash to the other. She was the last of my friends with a neddy not to have a baybee. And now she’s betrayed me.
On a serious note – congrats Malcolm & Justine, hope it’s not a weedy techno-geek ? (they are both fervent outdoorists, your archetypal huntin’ & shootin’ set.
After breakfast on Saturday, Justine & I headed off for her stables to ride. She was riding William, her big piebald pikey horse (pics to follow) & she had borrowed a ickle skewbald pikey-pony for me, by the name of Folly.
Folly’s owner had passed on the following advice via Justine to me ‘She can be a bit of a mare, if she’s bad, just show her the stick – she understands’. Hmmmm.
We set off on a cold but beautifully bright day on a 90 minute hack around some beautiful countryside. We had 3 long canters & returned via a stunning park which surrounds a handsome stately home.
Compared to Surrey, there is a definite absence of trees in Rutland but that made for more enjoyable riding as the wind has reached the ground & dried it out more than at home. It was very satisfying to get so much cantering done & Folly didn’t put a foot wrong, proving a gracious & willing mount. Her owner has said I can take her out whenever I go up there which obviously won’t be necessary now that Justine will turn into a daytime tv watching, couch-potato who does no physical exercise, meaning I’ll be riding William.
As we returned to the yard via a steep downhill paddock, newborn lambs scattered in front of us, all except a little black chap. He was fast asleep, forelegs flung over his head, mouth open & totally oblivious to the other lambs calling to him. I urged Folly closer to investigate to see if he was ‘an dead lamb’. As soon as I saw him breathing we turned away, only for Justine to indicate that I should look behind me.
In his confused awakening state he had imprinted on Folly & I & was now determinedly following us, calling to me to wait & ignoring the anxious calls of his flock-mates. As he became more observant he realised his new ‘mum’ looked a bit different & scarpered off to find his ovine one.
After a quick change of clothes, we headed off to a beautiful old pub for a delicious lunch. I had my 3 times yearly pint of bitter which went straight to my head after my outdoor morning & a very tasty liver & bacon with mash (hey Ange I ate liver, did I do good ?)
Once our prodigious appetites were sated, we headed off to see Malc’s cows. He has a couple of herds of Dexters (half the size of ordinary cows & immensely likable, ask Mr Tanner) (& easier to slot & butcher I s’pose Eric) & it’s fair to say they are his pride & joy. I have already been provisionally booked for halter training the cows, ready for the next show in June. I’m under no illusions that it’s because I’m a great stockperson, I know I’m only being buttered up cos Justine will be big & fat by then (& watching Trisha of course)
Malc takes huge pride in showing off the Dexters, each one is named (bar the boys who are eaten) & Maggie is under close scrutiny as she is due to calve in 8 days. Each day they get a hard feed of nuts, hay when it’s cold & he hand-feeds them carrots too. I got to see the calf I named who was in the process of being born last time I visited. Need I tell you that Millicent is living up to her name & looking ‘Magnificent’ ?
By now we were all freezing so we piled into the truck, had a quick stop to see one of Gertie’s pups in it’s new home (she’s now 5 months old & gorgeous) then headed off for a real fire & the England versus Italy game. Thank goodness we salvaged some pride.
The evening was rounded off with champers & Little Britain, which I think you’ll agree goes rather nicely.
After a much-appreciated lie-in on Sunday morning we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of croissants & slouched with the papers. I was given ‘choice of what to do’ & elected to drag them both around garden centres looking for the 3 things I enjoy buying ; birdy peanuts, candles & house-plants. I did well with all 3 & set off home at 4pm, hoping to make it to the hospital in time to see Cocky plus baybees in the hospital.
Anna & Erin
Cocky had told me the twins weren’t sleeping so needless to say, that’s all they did during my visit. She looked relaxed & relieved to have finally shed her huge payload & I even managed to look when she showed me her caesarian scar. It was lovely to hear her back to her old, laid-back self, she has sounded very down just recently, understandably so with twins on the way & an unfinished house undergoing building work. She has help for the next 3 weeks in the form of her mum & Garth’s mum who are coming to help establish a routine. I hope & pray the babies will be good ?
Points to ponder.
I skated over it last time I talked about it, but the rift between my gran & I remains. She said straight out that she didn’t love me any more during my 2nd to last visit. Her reason ? I had done some ‘very silly’ (non-specific) things, squandered my brain & failed to make anything of myself. I had also ‘gallivanted’ in NZ rather than returning to support my Mum after her mastectomy & re-construction. I withdrew & waited for her to apologise. The apology never came.
I girded myself for what turned out to be my final visit. She blanked me, even asking my Mum to clarify who she was referring to when she mentioned ‘her daughter’ It hurt immensely & it took my last shred of dignity not to walk out. I didn’t have to say anything to my Mum, she said to me ‘You don’t have to go again’ The relief was palpable.
At Christmas we failed to acknowledge each other for the 1st time.
Mum tells me gran’s health has deteriorated rapidly in the last few months after a stay in hospital (I last saw her in about June of last year). She hasn’t asked me to visit & I don’t think she would but it leaves me with some thinking to do.
Rescue Me.
Like many of my friends I consider myself pretty much able to handle what comes my way. I don’t have the luxury of asking for help, unless it’s emotional support that is. So it was wonderful to be rescued on Friday. I won’t go into details, it’s one of those stories that doesn’t tell well, you had to be there. Suffice it to say, it was wonderful to point at the problem, look feeble & have someone make it go away. Thank oo.
Derv
Derv has been snatched kicking & screaming from the team & told he is going to work at a call-centre in Lambeth. I’ll spare you the politics, it’s boring, but Derv has already worked a long stint at Brixton in his career & deserves much better. He’s working out his last few days & I feel very sad about it. You will remember Derv as the one who says (amongst other things) ‘I wouldn’t pi55 on her gums if her mouth was on fire’. He surpassed himself on Friday whilst arguing with a smarmy sergeant who is looking to ingratiate himself with the management by ramming his head up their (stop Briggsy) anyway, you get the drift.
Derv informed Sergeant ‘……’ ‘There’s 2 things I won’t do, tell lies or kiss-ar5e’
‘Are you implying I kiss-ar5e ?’ asked Sergeant ‘……’
‘No’ said Derv, ‘I’m not implying it, I’m saying it straight’
One – nil to Derv.
On Thursday we aim to celebrate in the time-honoured way with Derv ie. laugh at how quickly he gets trolleyed then try & avoid him whilst he shouts war-stories at you ?
Plans were made to attend our local Oirish pub, then Milk Yuk noticed what date it was on Thursday. I asked Derv today if the venue was to remain the same. Of course it would, why wouldn’t Derv feel at home surrounded by loud, pi55ed gingwahs ?
There & Back Again …
It is with the utmost pleasure that I inform you that Bill & family look set to return to NZ. It is to Linda’s credit that she is wiling to give it another go & I am so happy for Bill. The only downside ? He left NZ in winter, he did a UK winter, he’s heading back for … you guessed it. As things stand May 17th seems to be the date.Oh well, swings & roundabouts poppet. Your plan looks to be coming together. Bill kindly offered me a job as a nanny. Right.
I think that’s about it for now, so I’ll sign off & say goodnight.
Oh yes, one thing, a message for the person who’s no longer going to do what they were originally planning on doing. Show some guts & explain why. It’s the least you can do.
Goodnight,
Cx
Oh and Bloo, the red hair suits you, makes your eyes look bluer.
Bits and pieces and the weekend.
Time : 2333
Music : ‘Beyond Euphoria’
Lighting : Candlelight
I have a few things to tell you about so this will be a bit of a random catch up.
On Friday night I headed North to Rutland (about half way up since people kept asking me, smallest county in England, motto of which ‘Multim in parvo’ means ‘Much in little’ and it’s true.)
You may remember my friends Malcolm & Justine live there.
Oddly, Justine was in bed when I arrived at 2315, which was strange as she’s usually a night-owl. Malcolm had waited up to greet me, which was even odder, as he’s definitely a lark. Wondering if they’d had a blue I turned in for the night.
Over breakfast I asked Justine if she was ok.
‘Fine’ came the reply, ‘apart from this’ at which she pulled one of those sodding scan photos from her handbag.
I put my hands over my eyes & ears determined not to hear the news.
Actually, I recall now to my shame that I told her to ‘f**k off’ but it was meant in the best of spirits.
She & Malcolm have been ‘trying for a baby’ (how I hate that phrase but nothing else does) for a little over a year now & I was convinced he was a jaffa. If that sounds disrespectful, it’s not, I’ve been saying it to his face too.
Every time we meet Justine & I express relief that neither of us talks about nappy rash to the other. She was the last of my friends with a neddy not to have a baybee. And now she’s betrayed me.
On a serious note – congrats Malcolm & Justine, hope it’s not a weedy techno-geek ? (they are both fervent outdoorists, your archetypal huntin’ & shootin’ set.
After breakfast on Saturday, Justine & I headed off for her stables to ride. She was riding William, her big piebald pikey horse (pics to follow) & she had borrowed a ickle skewbald pikey-pony for me, by the name of Folly.
Folly’s owner had passed on the following advice via Justine to me ‘She can be a bit of a mare, if she’s bad, just show her the stick – she understands’. Hmmmm.
We set off on a cold but beautifully bright day on a 90 minute hack around some beautiful countryside. We had 3 long canters & returned via a stunning park which surrounds a handsome stately home.
Compared to Surrey, there is a definite absence of trees in Rutland but that made for more enjoyable riding as the wind has reached the ground & dried it out more than at home. It was very satisfying to get so much cantering done & Folly didn’t put a foot wrong, proving a gracious & willing mount. Her owner has said I can take her out whenever I go up there which obviously won’t be necessary now that Justine will turn into a daytime tv watching, couch-potato who does no physical exercise, meaning I’ll be riding William.
As we returned to the yard via a steep downhill paddock, newborn lambs scattered in front of us, all except a little black chap. He was fast asleep, forelegs flung over his head, mouth open & totally oblivious to the other lambs calling to him. I urged Folly closer to investigate to see if he was ‘an dead lamb’. As soon as I saw him breathing we turned away, only for Justine to indicate that I should look behind me.
In his confused awakening state he had imprinted on Folly & I & was now determinedly following us, calling to me to wait & ignoring the anxious calls of his flock-mates. As he became more observant he realised his new ‘mum’ looked a bit different & scarpered off to find his ovine one.
After a quick change of clothes, we headed off to a beautiful old pub for a delicious lunch. I had my 3 times yearly pint of bitter which went straight to my head after my outdoor morning & a very tasty liver & bacon with mash (hey Ange I ate liver, did I do good ?)
Once our prodigious appetites were sated, we headed off to see Malc’s cows. He has a couple of herds of Dexters (half the size of ordinary cows & immensely likable, ask Mr Tanner) (& easier to slot & butcher I s’pose Eric) & it’s fair to say they are his pride & joy. I have already been provisionally booked for halter training the cows, ready for the next show in June. I’m under no illusions that it’s because I’m a great stockperson, I know I’m only being buttered up cos Justine will be big & fat by then (& watching Trisha of course)
Malc takes huge pride in showing off the Dexters, each one is named (bar the boys who are eaten) & Maggie is under close scrutiny as she is due to calve in 8 days. Each day they get a hard feed of nuts, hay when it’s cold & he hand-feeds them carrots too. I got to see the calf I named who was in the process of being born last time I visited. Need I tell you that Millicent is living up to her name & looking ‘Magnificent’ ?
By now we were all freezing so we piled into the truck, had a quick stop to see one of Gertie’s pups in it’s new home (she’s now 5 months old & gorgeous) then headed off for a real fire & the England versus Italy game. Thank goodness we salvaged some pride.
The evening was rounded off with champers & Little Britain, which I think you’ll agree goes rather nicely.
After a much-appreciated lie-in on Sunday morning we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of croissants & slouched with the papers. I was given ‘choice of what to do’ & elected to drag them both around garden centres looking for the 3 things I enjoy buying ; birdy peanuts, candles & house-plants. I did well with all 3 & set off home at 4pm, hoping to make it to the hospital in time to see Cocky plus baybees in the hospital.
Anna & Erin
Cocky had told me the twins weren’t sleeping so needless to say, that’s all they did during my visit. She looked relaxed & relieved to have finally shed her huge payload & I even managed to look when she showed me her caesarian scar. It was lovely to hear her back to her old, laid-back self, she has sounded very down just recently, understandably so with twins on the way & an unfinished house undergoing building work. She has help for the next 3 weeks in the form of her mum & Garth’s mum who are coming to help establish a routine. I hope & pray the babies will be good ?
Points to ponder.
I skated over it last time I talked about it, but the rift between my gran & I remains. She said straight out that she didn’t love me any more during my 2nd to last visit. Her reason ? I had done some ‘very silly’ (non-specific) things, squandered my brain & failed to make anything of myself. I had also ‘gallivanted’ in NZ rather than returning to support my Mum after her mastectomy & re-construction. I withdrew & waited for her to apologise. The apology never came.
I girded myself for what turned out to be my final visit. She blanked me, even asking my Mum to clarify who she was referring to when she mentioned ‘her daughter’ It hurt immensely & it took my last shred of dignity not to walk out. I didn’t have to say anything to my Mum, she said to me ‘You don’t have to go again’ The relief was palpable.
At Christmas we failed to acknowledge each other for the 1st time.
Mum tells me gran’s health has deteriorated rapidly in the last few months after a stay in hospital (I last saw her in about June of last year). She hasn’t asked me to visit & I don’t think she would but it leaves me with some thinking to do.
Rescue Me.
Like many of my friends I consider myself pretty much able to handle what comes my way. I don’t have the luxury of asking for help, unless it’s emotional support that is. So it was wonderful to be rescued on Friday. I won’t go into details, it’s one of those stories that doesn’t tell well, you had to be there. Suffice it to say, it was wonderful to point at the problem, look feeble & have someone make it go away. Thank oo.
Derv
Derv has been snatched kicking & screaming from the team & told he is going to work at a call-centre in Lambeth. I’ll spare you the politics, it’s boring, but Derv has already worked a long stint at Brixton in his career & deserves much better. He’s working out his last few days & I feel very sad about it. You will remember Derv as the one who says (amongst other things) ‘I wouldn’t pi55 on her gums if her mouth was on fire’. He surpassed himself on Friday whilst arguing with a smarmy sergeant who is looking to ingratiate himself with the management by ramming his head up their (stop Briggsy) anyway, you get the drift.
Derv informed Sergeant ‘……’ ‘There’s 2 things I won’t do, tell lies or kiss-ar5e’
‘Are you implying I kiss-ar5e ?’ asked Sergeant ‘……’
‘No’ said Derv, ‘I’m not implying it, I’m saying it straight’
One – nil to Derv.
On Thursday we aim to celebrate in the time-honoured way with Derv ie. laugh at how quickly he gets trolleyed then try & avoid him whilst he shouts war-stories at you ?
Plans were made to attend our local Oirish pub, then Milk Yuk noticed what date it was on Thursday. I asked Derv today if the venue was to remain the same. Of course it would, why wouldn’t Derv feel at home surrounded by loud, pi55ed gingwahs ?
There & Back Again …
It is with the utmost pleasure that I inform you that Bill & family look set to return to NZ. It is to Linda’s credit that she is wiling to give it another go & I am so happy for Bill. The only downside ? He left NZ in winter, he did a UK winter, he’s heading back for … you guessed it. As things stand May 17th seems to be the date.Oh well, swings & roundabouts poppet. Your plan looks to be coming together. Bill kindly offered me a job as a nanny. Right.
I think that’s about it for now, so I’ll sign off & say goodnight.
Oh yes, one thing, a message for the person who’s no longer going to do what they were originally planning on doing. Show some guts & explain why. It’s the least you can do.
Goodnight,
Cx
Oh and Bloo, the red hair suits you, makes your eyes look bluer.
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