Year of the snake

Well it's a bit of a shame about Chris Huhne...although to be fair nobody seems to have a good word for him (and after all, what good sport it is, kicking a man when he's down).  Now I'm not saying that his then wife should have taken the points for him...but, by hearsay, that's not uncommon, but it does seem a shame that an entire career is destroyed by what started off as something so small.  There's an irony that he lost his licence anyway just a few weeks later when caught by the police for using his mobile whilst driving.  I wonder how the ex-Mrs Huhne feels now.  She told the journalist as a woman scorned.  Does revenge feel good?  And if it does, will it still feel good in the future?  I somehow doubt it.  I read that both Mr and the ex-Mrs are best described as 'highly manipulative', so perhaps they should have stayed together as they seem well suited.

This weekend there will be celebrations aplenty amongst the Chinese community as it's the Chinese New Year....the year of the snake.  I was born in the year of the rat.  Why don't they have nice animals for their years?  How about Year of the Pussycat, Year of the Koala, Year of the Budgerigar?  London's ChinaTown will be one of the major centres of celebration, and if you happen to be free come down and have a look in the morning.  No not at the dancing Chinese lions and dragons, but at me, me, me.  Some of the Olympic Opening Ceremony Drummers and Working Men and Women will be reprising their roles from the Pandemonium Sequence.  I will be one of them.  I'm very much looking forward to it.  I won't be able to take the grin off my face.

Welcome to the year of the snake.

Friday night

I'm back on the Marmite again...here we are with a complete collection of limited editions.  The right-hand one is the most recent...you'll notice it is without much branding...that was an idea of Selfridges about reducing 'noise'.

We were in Selfridges just a couple of weeks ago, and sitting just near us was Chris Eubank and a pretty embarrassed mate.  the former was trying to chat up an attractive woman who was having none of it.  Eventually the mate got up and walked out, and shortly former boxer Eubank swaggered out too.  The lovely lady simply got on with drinking her champagne whilst waiting for her friends...or perhaps...date to arrive.

We used to see former boxer Eubank regularly.  He liked to think of himself as a dandy, we thought of him as a tosser.  He used to drive a vast American truck backwards and forwards along Brighton seafront to attract attention.  some people waved, most ignored him.  Presumably he stopped when he was declared bankrupt.

On Saturday night we were in Brighton and went to see Django.  I cannot help but enjoy Quentin Tarrantino films...I think he's brilliant.  The Cat's Mother enjoyed the film too, although she didn't see as much as me as she hid behind her hands every time there was a gory bit.  It's a great story, wonderfully filmed and as usual has a fantastic soundtrack.  Leonardo DiCaprio was at his best, as  are Christoph Waltz and Samuel L Jackson and of course Jamie Foxx.  Tarantino should stick to writing and directing and producing as his acting skills are yet to be found.  The mandingo fighting was grim.  Watch out for the woman (?) in the red scarf...and let me know if you get the significance.

We'd arrived in Brighton very late Friday night having been up The Shard....now being billed as Western Europe's tallest building, since those damned Russians built something taller in Moscow, and evidently that is considered to be in Europe.  It was the first day it was open to the public, and I'd bought tickets months ago for The Cat's Mother's birthday in September.  The view is absolutely spectacular...especially at night.  I would say well-worth the trip, but they've put the price up to £30 each, so 'worth' doesn't come into it.  I would also recommend you take a polishing cloth up there with you to wipe away all the hand and nose smudges which didn't help see London.  Anyway, a great thing to do, if you can find someone to treat you.

It's a voracious sump inhabited by an eternal and mutating Driberg

This is either the best spoof ever...or will make you wretch for hours.  I fall into the latter group.



For no sensible reason, I 'upgraded' my lap top from Windows 7 to Windows 8.  It may have been because I live in terror of getting left behind by anything technological....plus it could be bought for just £24.  It was a complete success, other than the touch-screen is now no longer touch sensitive, and I had to leave it on overnight because I couldn't work out how to turn it off.  This morning I went to 'help' to discover that Microsoft recommends you just shut the lid.  There's progress for you.

When I was a young lad we lived in a typical English village...Hatfield Heath (no where near Hatfield) village green, village church (several of them in fact), village hall, village baker, village pub (several of them in fact), village butcher, village cobbler, drapers, general store, newsagent et al.  There was an annual village fate,cricket matches throughout the summer and generally it was a lovely place.  Even at a tender age though, I knew that it was a good thing our address was Hertfordshire (because that was the location of the nearest town - Bishops Stortford) and not Essex which is actually the county the village is located in.  I don't think Essex had taken on the image that it developed in the eighties, but it was well on the way.

I stayed away from Essex for decades living in either Brighton or London.  But with The Boy growing up and in need of a decent education, we moved from urban Borough High Street to Buckhurst Hill.  It was really the first time I'd been there for a very long time.  And what I discovered was that everything that was ridiculed about Essex was true.  We lived on one corner of the WAGS triangle (Buckhurst Hill, Loughton and Chigwell).  Everyone had a Range Rover or a Porsche or both.  Everyone was perma-tanned.  Everyone had so much bling that you knew where The Bank of England had sold off its gold too.  "Alright babe?" was the native greeting.  The best restaurant in town was Kentucky Fried Chicken.  It made me smile.  It was like living in a cartoon.  I thought they should make a film of it.  They didn't, but they did make 'TOWIE' - the only way is Essex.  Virjazal became common parlance.  Nobody around could recognise themselves in it, and addictive as it was, they rubbished it.  But I cannot tell a lie...it was and indeed is a fair reflection of a large group of the local population.  I can't bare to watch it, so the clip below is just randomly selected from You Tube



But, there's a different Essex.  In fact 95% of Essex is different.  It's really a rather lovely place.  And it has been left to Jonathan Meades to tell us all about it.  Now, I have to confess that I've have always been a bit of a Jonathan Meades Groupy...I find him fascinating and fabulous.  I suspect he's a bit of a Marmite man...love him or hate him.  So I was glad he turned his gaze on Essex.  You can and should watch it on the BBC iPlayer...it's a gem.  Here's the link.

In the meantime here's a clip from one of his previous outings...there are so many to choose from, and I suspect if you watch one clip, you'll either become a complete addict or thow your computer out of the window.

Up to the highest height

Here's a picture I took this week.  I know I've photographed The Shard from many angles, but this one I rather like...not to say I haven't liked all the others.

OK, so we're not actually going to fly a kite...but this is a clue to our nocturnal activities this evening (sort of)

Picture post 142

We bought a rather wonderful spherical lamp made up of sea shells which when you look from across the room look like roses

Umbrella

This is a rather pretty sculpture? installation? just by Borough Market

Change

Yesterday's post was originally called change, but I decided that it needed change before being put up.  Today is about change.

We woke up Sunday morning to find that our lovely six foot snowman, which had survived remarkably well, albeit shrunken to about five foot, had disappeared totally in the torrential overnight rain.  Nothing but a pile of oranges, pine cones, hat and scarf to show for our short-lived friend.

As we left our Edwardian breakfast we heard news of a friend of a friend's 24 year-old son.  He had been out with friends in Romford on Saturday night, and because he was feeling a little the worse for wear at the end of the evening he stuck his head out of the car window.  Unfortunately, there was another passing car.  We don't yet know the final out come, but at best it will being lasting brain damage we understand.  So there in a moment lives are changed forever in an apparently random moment.

The same was true some nine years ago with The Boy's mother.  Her brain haemorrhage whilst away on business was sudden and unexpected and brought about changes to so very many people.  So today we say a little prayer for her and remember someone who knew better than anyone else I know how to burn the candle at both ends and in the middle.

Food glorious food

It's a rare treat when two interests collide, especially when it's in such a positive way.

As you know I'm a great lover of street art.  You won't know that I'm also a lover of  short films.  Recently I was sent a whole box of goodies by Shorts TV for doing nothing other than signing up to their newsletter.  The Boy has been enjoying the T-shirt and mints.

I accidently stumbled across this short film.  It starts off with a ROA, and kept me entertained all the way through.  Very clever.




This weekend we managed to burn the candle at both ends and in the middle too.  Friday night we held a Burns Night Supper evening...just us, two friends and their lad who is also at school with The Cat and The Boy.  We started with a Drambuie and Champaign cocktail, beginning the meal with mushroom soup (not Scottish, but delicious and homemade) before getting to the haggis an neaps which was washed down with red wine and whisky.  The meal finished with a selection of Scottish cheeses...some of them delicious.  We piped the haggis in (with a video on YouTube) and the Kenneth McKellar and Andy Stewart videos continued late into the night in between topping up our whisky glasses and puffing on a celebratory cigar.  We eventually crawled into bed at 3.00 am, with the room swirling around us.

Saturday we went to a packed out showing of 'Les Mis'.  I was dragged there kicking and screaming.  By the end I felt I had the moral high ground as I we all agreed it was a miserable experience.  Whilst the setting was spectacular, I'm at a loss to understand why anyone would want to listen to the music...I realise there are some 60 million people out there who will disagree....so much would have been better without the songs.

And Sunday we went to a friend's for their annual 'Edwardian Breakfast'  There was just 35 of their closest friends there.  The host is a baker...but not just any baker...he baked a cake for The Queen for her jubilee and it was carried down the Thames on the royal barge during the flotilla.  Anyway, our breakfast consisted of grapefruit with port, porridge with whisky, kedgeree with white wine, bacon, egg, sausage, black pudding, mushrooms and baked beans with red wine finished off with pastries and brandy.  Phew.

Our meals may not have been entirely authentic, and what on earth we were doing toasting the Scots, I've no idea...but it was a glorious weekend

Revealing

Well done Mr Q and Mrs NappyValley who between them got to the right answer in my last post.  We were at The Globe, and there will be a performance of The Tempest there this year.  I did rather bastardise Mr Shakespeare's speech as spoken by Mr Brannagh at the Opening ceremony of the Olympics.  We were there to have a look around the work that's going on at the moment.  The Globe is a wonderful place to Shakespeare, but come the winter months, it lies empty as no one wants to freeze their bits off listening to The Bard.  It transpires that when Sam Wannamaker conceived the idea of re-building The Globe, there was always a plan to have an indoor Jacobean theatre too...funds have never been there to realise this dream.  Until now.  So from the existing building that was created at the same time as the Globe, a new Jacobean theatre is being built.  It will open at the end of the year, and there's a lot of work still to be done.  It should be a fascinating experience, as performances will be by candlelight...one of those will include The Tempest - apparently the opening storm scene was always meant to be played in almost total darkness.  We're looking forward to it.

A while back I started a blog looking at the Olympic Park as it was being built..it's on my route to work.  But I soon came to realise that building works progress slowly, so I stopped.  If you take a look, you'll see it's laid out quite differently to this one...I really like it (click on any of the pictures to see linked photos) but it's difficult to comment.  As people occasionally still go to look at it,  I have just posted up all the photos from my ' Great Olympic adventure'...soon I'm going to add the pictures from the days we visited as spectators....and at odd occasions I'll add to it when we go and use the facilities there...it's currently still shut and it's been quite depressing seeing everything being taken out.  I am looking forward to the big concerts that are going to take place there in the summer and a new cycle track plus the velodrome revamped for amateurs will be open in the not too distant future.  If you compare what we are trying to achieve with our Olympic facilities compared to other countries, you should be rightly proud that we have got it right.

I think we all know what thieving merchants insurance companies are, so it hasn't come as a surprise when it comes to the insurance for our little Toyota Yaris.  Insured for The Cat's Mother the cost was about £300, and adding on The Cat was an impressive, but not unexpected £1300.  We've now tried to add The Boy.  that will cost an additional £1100.  So here's the question to Direct Line...as you cannot discriminate between males and females, and the car cannot be driven by both at the same time, how do you justify that extra cost?

Not a SITE you will see very often

Any guesses why The Cat's Mother is dressed up like Bob the Builder?

The only clue is that: she was not afeared, the aisle was full of noises

In black and white

The Cat's Mother was concerned that I hadn't mentioned that the scarf on our snowman (soon to be deceased) is my old school scarf.  I regard this as editorial interference, but as she said, "They would want to know!".  So there you have it.  My scarf, which has survived forty years, is now roughing it in the back garden.

I wonder who briefed Prince 'take a life to save a life' Harry to say that he had killed Taleban.  If he wasn't a prime target before, he certainly is now.  But more importantly was the matter-of-fact way in which he delivered it.  A life is a life is a life, and any life lost should be mourned.  War is a nasty business at the best of times, and as I learnt in school at the age of 13 you can't win a war in Afghanistan.  So every life lost, whether British or Taleban is a wasted life as well as being a tragedy.

And as for Cameron offering us the chance to vote ourselves out of Europe...I'm lost for words.  The EU does need to change, but you can't influence change from the outside.  If we go, I bet €5 that within a decade we'll be hammering on the door asking to be let back in.  Of course, DC may be bluffing, certain that the Tories won't be winning the next election...but that won't help The Ed Miller Band come to the negotiating table

Yesterday's The Cat's Mother and I had a text conversation

"OMG on the 20 bus!!! xx"

"Not surprised.  Heard on the BBC that hell has frozen over xxx"

"They are in shock at Level One xxooxx" [ed: hairdresser]

""Did you go upstairs? Were you smoking on the back seat? Did you know they don't have conductors any more? xxx"

"All of the above. What a trip down memory lane.  All that was missing was me in my school uniform xxooxx"

"*drops phone* xxx"

A short while ago Kelloggsville asked for a cast list, so here goes:

Me - Nota Bene
My son - The Boy
My girlfriend - The Cat's Mother
My girlfriend's daughter - The Cat
My Mum - Grandma in Cyprus
My stepfather - Grandpa in Cyprus
My brother - erm, usually referred to as my brother...suggestions appreciated - I have used 'He ain't heavy'
UP - The Cat's Mother's brother
The Maestro - The Cat's Mother's other brother
Quenn Anne - The Cat's Mother's BFF
Muffin Mum - The Cat's Mother's sister
Muffin Dad - The Cat's Mother's brother-in-law
The Muffins - either the two daughters or the whole family
The Spanish girl - shares my office, and isn't Spanish
Gay John - used to share my office and isn't gay
Gay George - used to share my office and isn't gay
Office Dog - the office dog

The chorus...assorted characters who are given random names as needed, and these names may well change each time they appear..

If I've forgotten anyone, could they or you let me know?

Minding your Ps and Qs

I'm such a girl when it comes to shoes.  At one time I had 42 pairs.  That's a lot I know, when most blokes I know have one pair of shiny black ones, one battered pair of brown ones and a pair of trainers.  The reason is that everytime I dress to go out, I realise I don't have an appropriate pair.  The only answer is to buy a new pair.  With the snow this week, I realised that I don't have a pair of winter boots, so The Cat's Mother and I slipped and slid into the town centre  in search of a pair.  Loughton is full of coffee shops, opticians and TOWIE boutiques, but winter clothing is not in abundance, so I was quite pleased to find a pair I liked.  Designed by Alexander McQueen for Puma.  Yes, they probably wouldn't take you up Everest.  And there's the rub.  Literally.  By the time I walked down to the station yesterday morning and then at the other end to the office, I was practically crippled by the blisters.  Still they do look nice.

As I sauntered through Loughton yesterday morning on my way to the station, the workmen were hard at work clearing the pavement.  They were doing a very good job indeed, and I felt the urge to say a very loud thank you.  It often strikes me that the people who do the most important jobs get forgotten...and their efforts rarely acknowledged.  So here's a big thanks to everyone who has been and will be keeping the country running over the next few days.

I thought I would share a couple of pictures.

This one is quite atmospheric I think, and I took on my way home on Friday.

This one I took just before we broke up for Christmas....you get the effect by changing the zoom as the camera takes the picture...

Still in the snow

I enjoyed taking these pictures...and playing with them.

This one uses a special effect to make everything look tiny - on fact the snowman is six foot tall

And this one looks like he was on LSD

It's snow madness

Across the land there have been massive falls of s.........tupidity.  Particularly hard hit have been drivers, many of whom have been struck dumb.  The stupidity is continuing to fall and has been described as thick as two short planks.

Our house is near the top of a hill, and this afternoon I ventured out to see what was going on.  It was carnage.  There were cars spread all over the road...I spent a little while persuading more cars to stop before it was too late...but that didn't stop several ignoring me, heading down the hill...and sliding into the other cars that had done similar.  It sounded a bit like a giant 'Newtons Balls'.  When people were already in trouble, I encouraged them to do nothing until the cars lower down the hill were moved....but that didn't stop the suntanned bloke in his onesie deciding that his Range Rover was invincible and he could drive it OK...indeed it was impressive as two tonnes of shiny black Essex car slid gracefully into one car, then the next, then the next and the one after that before coming to rest in another.  At that stage I realised there was no helping any of them, so my blood boiling, I called them all stupid and went home.  Mr Suntan demanded to know why I was calling him stupid...I ignored him.

Meanwhile The Boy and I did what snowy days are designed for: