I dont rate Sky +

I have been meaning to jot this down for a while but have never got round to it before today.

Is it just me or is Sky + bloody pointless. Don't get me wrong I enjoy the range of channels made available by satellite television but I am yet to see the real advantage of adding a hard disk to the box that allows you to record/rewind the channel you are watching plus record a programme on one other channel.

Lets go with pausing/rewinding live TV first. The way this is done is that Sky + has a buffer function that holds a maximum of 30 minutes of the selected channel. This allows you to rewind and replay an event just watched or pause an programme while real life intrudes. This is seen to be great for Sports fans and probably watchers of the pornographic channels too as they can watch that climactic moment time and time again or pause while they nip off for beer and snack* .  The thing is, while doing this the actual programme continues and one is left with two options; hit the square button and jump to real timing, missing what happened while your created your personal replay, or carry on watching in delay mode which has a tendency to screw up the viewing of later programmes .....

..... let me explain. If I am watching a football match, which is highly unlikely, and decide to rewind to watch a goal or go and answer the phone I have caused the programme to over run. This may be a few moments but could be several minutes. This can mean that I that I miss the start of the next programme because I am watching the end of this one.

Even more frustrating is pausing a programme while someone else in the household takes a phone call. You then end up sat in front of a frozen screen while a family member or friend rattles on in an inane fashion. They don't have to worry about missing Eastenders because it is paused and are oblivious to the irritation that rapidly manifests when you are listening to half a conversation whilst watching what has become a poor quality urban still life. In the good old days they would have a hurried conversation and then get back to the telly. Now the gits know they have half an hour to talk bollocks without missing a moment of the "drama". The net result of this increasingly frequent scenario is that the pain that is life in Walford is drawn out to even greater lengths and I get to miss the start of the documentary I had been looking forward to.

Let us now move on to the second "advantage" of Sky +. You can record up to two channels of TV simultaneously. To be fair here I can accept the use of begin able to record TV but a Sky + box can hold about 180 hours of the stuff.

What does anybody want with 180 hours of recorded TV? The standard Sky package has an enormous range of channels and I like to browse the programme guide and select a programme to watch. I am not interested in creating my own personalised TV channel. I like to select from what is offered. If one goes down the road of using the hard disk to just store and watch personal selections little or no time may be left for the gems that worm our way in to our viewing consciousness because there is "bugger all on".

Creating your own TV channel is like going in to a restaurant and just always asking them to cook your favourite dish. I like a good pate' as much as the next man but the smoked duck I selected at a restaurant a few weeks back was fantastic and I would never have thought to ask for it if it wasn't on the menu. Do you see what I am saying here? Sky + has a tendency to  limits your choices and can inhibit opportunities to find new televisual delights.

Moving on, I appreciate that there are certain benefits to watching pre-recorded TV, It gives you the ability to fast forward through, rather than endure, the ever increasing quantity of commercials that punctuate the media. This allows you to avoid the opera singing prat and the irritating meerkat vermin that invade every programme**.

I can't believe I snapped one of the little sods. San Diego 2006

 Mind you, there  is a down side to this. You then reduce an hour of TV to about 45 minutes and have to watch the last 15 minutes of something else which is basically a preview of what Alzheimers is going to be  like......

...... what has happened? Who is that man? Why are they trying to stick a tag on that shark?

To cut to the chase, TV is a great form of entertainment but it is just that, a form of entertainment. Enjoy it but don't get so wrapped up in it that you need to see every damned minute of the stuff. You don't need to watch every episode of Eastenders to keep up with the plot. To be honest it, and other soaps, are pretty predicable and it doesn't take a lot of effort to work out what you have missed and what is likely to happen next.

If you haven't got the time to watch a programme just let it go. Realistically there are so many channels and so little new material that it will be repeated within a couple of weeks and on Dave every other day within a month or so.

I like TV but I don't like the way the supporting technology is trying to make it something that it is not. It doesn't matter if you miss it. There are far better things you could be doing than watching a lot of the dumbed down nonsense that is broadcast.

I have to admit that I go with Lord Reith's approach of television to inform, educate and entertain. I have yet to see quite how cash in the attic or hole in the wall fit in to those categories.

Do yourself a favour and be selective but open to new opportunities. if it is crap tun it off or turn it over. Don't endure it.

Rant over

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* or tissues and lube.
** I do have a plan for these two. It involves plunging the rodent in to liquid nitrogen and then bending the singer over - need I say more...... ?

Oops

A few days back 30% accosted me and asked if I had completed a chore that had some how appeared on my "to do" list. I thought for a moment before mendaciously responding with a "yes". "Seriously" she responded "have you really done that?".

Knowing that I was never going to get away with it I confessed but followed up with a pretty reasonable piece of bullshit to cover my tracks.....

.... I advised that I had recently been experimenting with time travel and 30% had just had a chance encounter with a "me" that had "fluxed" from the future where the chore had been completed as promised. That "me" had subsequently "fluxed" back and she was now talking to the current "me" that hadn't quite got around to the aforementioned job yet ....... but would do so shortly.

"I'll flux you" was her pithy response as I wandered off to complete the task. Apparently I can be somewhat infuriating at times. I cant see why?

Warming Up

Today I was treated to a Blue Sky when I took T&M out for a stroll.

Although it is still early in the year, the first signs of growth are appearing in the woods and lanes. Small Cow Parsley shoots are peeking though the Ivy on the woodland floor and the pastures are slowly starting to green again.

Work too is starting to gather pace and numerous calls have filled my day and each one results in numerous actions and minutes.

I am concerned about the way the project is running and, to use a horse racing analogy, at the moment it is a bit like a riderless horse. It is running with the group in the right direction but is likely to veer away from the hurdles without a decent jockey on its back. At the moment the Lead Project Manager's communications are lacking in depth and direction and it is only through experience and common sense that we are heading in the right direction. "Lead" might be a bit of a misnomer. At the moment he is a bit too focussed on getting a signing rather than giving adequate consideration to the "What" that will be signed up "to".

I am not alone in this opinion and a number of my American colleagues have made similar utterances. It is a bit of surprise to be herding my European cats and then finding that I have to prod and nudge the leader of the Pride too.

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Other stuff

Tyson is definitely "in season" and therefore barred from Dog Training for three weeks. Last night it was just Marauder and me under Len's scrutiny. 

I have previously mentioned that Marauder was an A-Grade student until a Border Collie took a dislike to her and since that point she has become very nervous in class and we ended up moving to another session to get her back on track. She is still very nervous and Len thinks that a few sessions without Tyson may improve her confidence. 

She did reasonably well last night. She is still nowhere near her previous form but it wasn't an absolute disaster.

Picture Post. No. 3

The recent unrest in Egypt is troubling. I have been fortunate to visit this amazing country three times and have seen the natural beauties of the Red Sea in Sharm-el-Sheik, the fantastic temples of Luxor and, of course, the Pyramids and Museums of Cairo.

I love Egypt. It is a truly remarkable country and there is so much more to do than the highlights noted in the opening paragraph. The people are a delight and the food is good too. I hope that a resolution can be rapidly found that allows this country to move forward without damaging one of it's significant income sources; tourism. This revenue source is massive and a lack of tourist dollars is going to make matters worse.

In the absence of anything exciting from The Pile I present to you this little gem from my archives:-

On the Giza Plateau alongside the Great Pyramid of Khufu/ Cheops stands a peculiar modern structure. It is a museum and it is built over the top of a carefully constructed pit that was covered with truly enormous dressed stone blocks.

Inside that pit this beauty was placed for the use of Khufu in the afterlife. She is referred to as the Solar Boat and is an amazing site to behold. The people in the pictures give you some sense of her scale and, in turn, the scale of the pit and the stone blocks that once protected her.

145' long, 19' wide and truly beautiful

She is estimated to be in the region of 4,500 years old and recent excavations combined with the use of video cameras show that there is another such boat still entombed under the plateau.

Giza Plateau, Cairo, Egypt: Autumn 2008

Sunday Review

Sarah Millican was absolutely splendid last night.

She was witty, bawdy, observant and laugh-out-loud funny. I know I say this a lot but if you get the chance grab a couple of tickets and go and see this South Shields lass. This is the tail end of her first tour and any watchers of "Live at the Apollo" and similar shows will have seen much of her current material albeit somewhat sanitised and condensed for the TV audience.

Having said that the gig was brilliant and I found myself roaring with laughter even though, on occasion, I knew what was coming. Even though a fair portion of her material has been televised the linking narrative and improvised stuff is as good, if not better, and it was a brilliant evening.

She also announced that her new tour, with a completely new material, will be kicking off later on in the year. I'll be looking out for that one, for sure.

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Other stuff

In the middle of the week I mentioned that T&M had been down to the Groomers to be clipped. I now have two very skinny dogs:-

Marauder, posing

They look very different without 4" of hair. The pictures taken around Christmas clearly show the difference.

Marauder just before Christmas

Do not do now ....

.... what you can put off until tomorrow*.

I am not a plumber.  I am reasonably handy around the home and am comfortable with timber, plaster, bricks, mortar and basic electrics but I am not a plumber.

"Why", you may ask. The reason is that you have to turn your water supply off to play at being a plumber and once you have done that you are committed to finishing the job. There is no "I'll leave it at that and finish it tomorrow" because that means that nobody drinks and toilets remain un-flushed until the job is done.

So for many weeks I have been putting off dismantling the shower mixer valve in the en-suite to replace the O-rings that have failed and resulted in a lack of warm water. I have found countless reasons for avoiding doing this in the hope that a professional would be calling but yesterday I just ran out. I had a clear day with nothing on the agenda but the servicing of the valve.

There was a glimmer of hope when 30% put on the washing machine but the cycle was soon finished, TP was showered and I was OK to turn off the water at the mains. Curse Them!

So I made a start. things went reasonably well. The suspect O-ring was identified and replaced and I started to put the thing back together. This is where things went from fair to shite. The main valve unit would not fit back in to the valve body. I tried numerous methods but avoided the traditional "blow with a hammer". After an hour or so, with some fairly inventive under the breath expletives, I decided to call in the Professional.

Now the Professional in question is a big Aston Villa fan so I already had a sense of foreboding as his availability on a Saturday afternoon was already unlikely. He also lives 200 yards down the High Street and is a regular customer for fresh eggs so was always going to be the plumber of choice but he does have a reputation that is along the lines of "a really nice chap but a bugger to get hold off".

I called at about 3.15 and his wife answered. I explained my predicament and she said that he was at the match but thought that it was an early kick off and he should be back by 4.00 pm. I thanked her and started the wait gently fuming amd somewhat frustrated at my lack of plumbing skills. I checked the web and noted that the kick-off was at 1.00pm and that the final score was 3-1 to Villa. Thank God he is not a Blackburn fan.

Sometime around 4 o'clock T&M's barking indicated a caller at the door. The Gods had smiled on me and the unreliable plumber had arrived. I talked him though the problem and he fiddled with bits and pieces and advised that the service kit was not the correct one. One of the O-rings was oversized preventing the union of the parts and also the shower valve was also open which was also complicating matters. Twenty minutes later the damned thing was back together and issuing hot water from the appropriate apertures.

I'm glad it's sorted but am disappointed at the same time. The shower mixer was a quality product from a reliable manufacturer but this is the first time the bloody thing has worked properly since it was installed back in 2008. This poor product performance combined with my inability to fix the thing and the manufacturer's provision of an incorrect service kit have left me feeling a tad grumpy this afternoon.

Venting here is helping the black cloud to dissipate, which is for the good as we are off to see Sarah Millican this evening at Warwick Arts Centre. I have seen her stand-up on TV and am really looking forward to the gig. Perhaps a report tomorrow.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, the Emergency Call Out Fee was a dozen eggs and they had to be pressed upon him. He's a good lad when you can get hold of him.

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* in the hope of a Professional being called upon instead

Sloe Gin

Back in the Autumn we picked a few bags of sloes. Most of these were gathered on walks with T&M but one batch was raided from C&M's Orchard. These bitter fruits were first frozen and then pricked and added to preserving jars with plenty of sugar and gin. After daily shaking for a week or so they have sat undisturbed in a cupboard for the past 4 months.

Today I finally got my act together and strained the liqueur off the fruits and bottled it.

Sloe Gin

I have read that a coffee filter paper is ideal for filtering off the dregs before bottling but have found that the Sloe Gin is generally too viscous for the filter to be effective and seems to cause the filter seams to separate. I tend to use a square of absorbent kitchen paper towel. These are 2-ply and can easily be split in to two thin sheets. I then place one of the thin sheets in a funnel and use that to filter out the crud. It is still a slow process - no pun intended - but it does work.

The gin is drinkable straight away but those in the know advise on letting it mature in the bottle for a further 9-12 months before drinking.

BBBB .....

......  or Badman's Black Back Bacon.

It seems like an age back when I started curing a Pork Loin joint that 30% had picked up at the supermarket.  The piece of pork has been dry cured for a week, then washed and soaked before spending another 10 days in a coating of black treacle. This second process was ably carried out by 30% and TP while I was slumming it in Boston.

I finally got my act together last night and dragged it out of the fridge.

Black Back Bacon

The black treacle imparts both colour and flavour to the bacon and the result is a melt-in-the-mouth sweet cured rasher.

After 20 minutes with a sharp knife I had 4 lbs of bacon to be packed up and frozen.

Hand cut rashers - Mmmm !

Even allowing a comfortable 50p per lb for cure materials this bacon came out at about £2.50 per lb and therefore blows the commercial stuff in to the weeds at a supermarket price of £8 per lb.

Guess what we're having for supper ?

Here's a thought ...

Burns Night was a great success and "C" had thoughtfully sat us on the same table as Village Idiot and his long suffering spouse. A lovely evening was had by all but it was troubling to hear that VI had, once again, taken a tumble and this time had suffered a broken tooth and extensive bruising on his leg and backside. He needed assistance to get up from his chair at the dinner and I repeated that he should "shout" if he needs help with the flock as I helped him to his feet.

Apparently VI had been trying to fix a problem with the central locking on his Suzuki 4WD and was walking around the vehicle when he tripped over the tow bar of his sheep trailer. Having seen the state of his sheep trailer I would recommend a tetanus shot as a bare minimum. Seriously though, it is a concern that VI does seem to be unwell again as he apparently needed a night in hospital after wheeling his horse drawn plough down to the church for the Plough Sunday service. I'd say he needs to take it easy but he doesn't do a lot as it is.

Right,  where was I? Yes - while I was in the Pub I noticed that they are advertising a Chinese New Year Supper and I thought, since they are so close together, how about combining the two and having Chinese Burns Night* where you dine on sweet and sour haggis, get hammered on rice wine and inflict childish torture on your dining companions.

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Other Stuff .....

Andy and Steve are cracking on with the painting but have cocked up their estimates and need an extra day. This means that two of the rooms will not be finished this week and I am either going to have to pick up the brushes myself or wait a couple of weeks. Needless to say, 30% has taken this with a stoical patience - NOT!

The Dog Groomer managed to fit both T&M in today so I now have two very skinny dogs. They look amazingly different with 4" of hair removed and I will see if I can grab a snap in the next day or so to paste in to the Journal.

* Imagine Burns recited with a Chinese accent rather than an Ayrshire accent. It might make it a bit less impenetrable.

Burns Night

Before I start I need to point out that I am not, have never been and will never be Scottish. My paternal ancestors came raiding across the borders from Wales a good few hundred years ago and liked the women and sheep so much they settled here.

My surname is incredibly localised in the UK and quite rare. The majority of people live in just a handful of Counties on the border of England and Wales. If the surname distribution is reviewed for the 1881 census the greatest concentration can be seen to shift back towards the Welsh border with most living in Herefordshire. Even now only about 30 people in a million will have the same surname as me.

... but I digress, tonight is Burns Night and a neighbour organises a Burns Night supper at the local pub complete with whisky, haggis and the traditional Address to the main course. It is great fun and an excuse to imbibe and enjoy this fantastic Scottish pudding. Don't be put off by the ingredients, a good haggis takes some beating. Try it and only then deny it, rather than, as many seem to do, declare it awful having never let a morsel past their lips.

It will be an "intimate" evening as the local Pub can just about seat 30 covers* and "C"; the Organiser has arranged for about 25 of us to be served. It is quite an honour to be included on the guest list and I am still not quite sure how we managed it. C&M live behind our house and we have an casual relationship based usually on bumping in to each other as we perambulate round the village. Occasionally we do something more formal such as raiding their orchard for sloes, having a drink at the Pub or one of C's "Do's" - He also does a St Georges Night Bash on 23rd April. As I said, I'm not sure how we came to be originally invited but we have become regulars on the list and really look forward to it.

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Other stuff - Andy & Steve have turned up and are painting like crazy upstairs in TP's new bedroom and the two bathrooms. Their Property Services venture is really taking off and they are now fully booked for the next three months. 30% has instructed me to get them booked in to re-plaster and decorate the Master Bedroom at some point in April.


The Digital Aerial guy turned up as promised and apparently I now have more than 50 channels of Free-view telly in the Bedroom. Fantastic - 30% no longer has an excuse to stop ironing - Ouch !

* if your idea of a great table is six inches from the bar and with absolutely no elbow room at all. The Land Lady does like to cram them in and maximise profit margin

Loose Ends

Monday has been spent catching up on things that have been overlooked for one reason or another. Work is pretty quiet so I have managed to find a few minutes here and there to get a few things moving.

An Installer has been booked to come and erect a Digital TV aerial and T&M have both been booked in at the Groomer's. They were last clipped back in August and we left them to get shaggy over the Winter to keep out the cold. They have certainly done that. Their coats are so thick that knots and tangles are forming faster than we can brush them out so its off for a Shampoo and Clip job; one on Wednesday and the other on Friday. I have also taken a trip over to the local Feed Merchant as we are down to the last bag of Layers Pellets.

It is dog training this evening and it seems a long time since we were last there. I have been trying to keep up with their education and have been practising walking to heel "off the lead" during our walks. It seems to be going well but we will see how they perform tonight under Dog Trainer Len's scrutiny.  I suppose I had better get them walked as they are, shall we say, somewhat inattentive if they go to training without prior exercise.

I met up with Marilyn and Murphy on my walk and it appears that she is having Wellington quality issues too. Today she was sporting a green wellie on her left foot and a cream, flowered one on her right.  Always the optimist, she smiled and commented on how fortunate she was that the two pairs she owned had developed leaks in different feet and she was able to create one good pair from the two. 

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig ...

... Good Evening JF*.

The flight home was fine and once again I had a row of seats to myself. I stretched out and studiously ignored the announcements to belt up during the bouts of mild turbulence as apparently did everyone else.

The plane landed on time in Birmingham and I sped through passport control, baggage reclaim and customs. I was soon de-icing the car in the Long Stay car park and, after a 40 minute drive, was walking through the door at home. I was enthusiastically greeted by T&M and, when I had extricated myself from their manic circling, made a couple of cups of coffee and wandered upstairs to say hello to 30% and TP.

30% was absolutely shattered as she had been on conference calls until 11.30 p.m. and was then awoken at 1.30 a.m. and kept on the phone until 4.30 by a project team that couldn't grasp that their data circuit upgrade could not be completed simply by spouting hot air and making empty threats.

Needless to say we have had a quiet day.

My Dad popped over at around 11 to drop off his dog; Tilly. He is away for the weekend at my elder sister's birthday party and we have been entrusted with her care. Dad had a surprise gift. He had been visited by a farmer friend earlier in the week and was given a brace of Mallard.....

..... excellent - that was Dinner sorted** and one less decision for my fatigued brain to deliver.

The rest of the day was the bare essentials as dictated by minimal sleep; a trip to the Supermarket, a good walk with dogs and an early supper.

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* Blade Runner. The greeting given by the Replicant toys to their creator; J F Sebastian as he returns home.
** Once they had been plucked and jointed

BAA Take Note

I woke this morning at about 5.30 a.m.

I have found that I have problems adjusting to Eastern Time and tend to wake very early and be pretty tired by about 7 o'clock in the evening. They say that your body clock adjusts at a rate of an hour each day so a 5 day stay should have me adjusted to ET just in time to fly back to the UK.

I have found that only partially adjusting suits me better. It means that I wake very early and need to avoid late nights - or at least try to - but the plus side is that I don't really suffer any jet lag problems when I fly back home.

Now, where was I? Yes - there is not a lot to report today as most of it will be spent in airports and airliners. The forecasted snow was still falling and I checked my flights on the web. All seemed fine so I packed, had a leisurely breakfast and caught a cab to the airport. There was a couple of inches of snow on the major routes from Cambridge to Logan airport and it was falling so quickly that visibility was severely restricted. The Cabbie thought I had little chance of flying out and gave me his card so I could call him back if necessary.

I wandered up to the check-in desk and was booked on to an earlier flight. The desk staff seemed optimistic of my departure and so I went through the rigmarole of removing belts, boots, metallic objects, emptying pockets and taking laptops out of cases before they and I were blasted with several millirads of x-ray radiation and the Department of Homeland Security judged me safe to pass through to the Departure Lounge.

I located my Gate and peered out at the plane. It was covered in snow to a depth of at least 4". I am guessing that it had been at the Gate all night and this was it's first flight of the day. The snow was still falling and the airport seemed to be running like clockwork. Skid Steer Bobcats with Miniplows were whizzing around the landing gear of the Jet and larger Pick-up Trucks with full size ploughs were dealing with the routes near the Terminal whilst Monster Ploughs were out on the runways and Taxi ways.

it left 20 mins behind schedule

I recall BAA* wittering on about how much snow sat beneath a standing Jet and that it had to be cleared before a plane could be moved when the UK airports ground to a halt in December's snow. Not out here they don't. We boarded and the jet was rolled off the snow on to the Taxi-ways. We then parked whilst the De-icing teams rolled up and blasted the snow and ice off with a sickly pink liquid from a high pressure hose before following with a gooey green de-icer that was more gently sprayed on to the wing surfaces. The hose operators must have been absolutely bloody frozen standing on a cherry-picker platform on an exposed piece of tarmac in sub-zero temperatures. Perhaps that is why it took them less than 20 minutes to de-ice the plane and before I knew it we were at the end of the run-way with the engines spinning up.

The flight over New England and New York was great and 16,000 feet was low enough to take in the snowy landscape, the frozen lakes and the fractured ice on the partially frozen rivers. They say that a shot of sun-shine is a great mood enhancer and I can believe it as my spirits lift further as the plane cleared the clouds. No wonder pilots look so damned cheerful all the time. They must be blissed out on the vast quantities of endorphins or whatever are liberated by exposure to the sun. If you suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder take my advise, don't buy the crappy lamp that is supposed to mimic sunlight, re-train and take a job as a Pilot.

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Other Stuff

A quick recap on last night, I spent the evening with colleague, and hopefully a new friend, in an Irish Pub called Mr Dooley's in the Financial District of Boston. It was great. He was fine company and considering our wildly different backgrounds we had much in common. The conversation was great and it was really good to spend some time meeting someone new and not having work encroach on the chat to any great extent.  The food was incredibly good. I ordered a Boston Seafood Scampi and was rewarded with a bowl of linguine in a white wine and cream sauce topped with seared scallops, king prawns and fresh fish. It was gorgeous and cooked to perfection and, considering the location, very reasonably priced.

* BAA - British Airport Authorities.

Why?

It appears that I many have been flown over 3,500 miles at quite considerable expense for a contribution that I could have made from the comfort of my own home.

I was originally flown out to Boston as it was indicated that the client wanted to explore the way my project had been constructed. I was considered to be the SME* and therefore was required for the face to face discussions. It should be noted that this is a tenuous justification as if they dig much below the surface ….. “their legal guys will need to talk to our legal guys” – I am not a Lawyer.

Over the course of the week the client has changed their approach and late yesterday provided us with a list of 120 questions/clarification points to be discussed today. None of these relate to the structure of my project. I have therefore sat around and, where possible, assisted my colleagues with some of the responses. I would place a significant wager on me not being called in to the Client’s Meeting Room today.

As I type this I am sat in a “break out” room with a number of colleagues. The Core Team are in the meeting and we are here “just in case”

So, I have been dragged from my bed at 5.30 am. I have been driven to a meeting before the hotel restaurant opened for Breakfast and have spent the day in a suit and tie drinking coffee and eating pastries and a fairly typical Business Buffet Lunch.

I could kill for a decent Espresso and a slice of wholemeal toast spread with Marmite. For the fine diners out there this is “pain rustique flambe with a yeast jus” **

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* I am contravening several Trade/Product description laws by using the acronym SME – particularly in the use of “E for Expert”. I might just get away with “E for Elf”

** I know that flambé isn’t toasted but it serves for comedic effect

Your Fish, Sir

Most of Tuesday was spent in a windowless "war room" discussing tactics for the client meeting on Thursday. Very little was really accomplished as most of the time was spent second guessing what the client might ask*.

In the evening we went to a restaurant down on Boston's Fish Dock called the No Name. I have to say that the company was much much better than the quality of the meal. I ordered fried scallops and expected some pan seared beauties, white and plump. Instead I received deep fried, breaded, watery nuggets about the size of cherry tomato piled on a huge portion of tartare sauce. It was edible but the nuggets could have had anything in them. Fortunately the squid and fried oysters that were shared as a starter were much better and actually tasted of the sea.

On my return to the hotel I had another fishy experience......

...... I am staying at the Marlowe Kimpton in Cambridge MA and this small US chain has a "Pet Friendly" policy. They have fantastic rooms and, somewhat surprisingly, welcome pets. This goes as far as having the customary bowl of mints for Human Guests at Reception which is accompanied by a bowl of dog treats. They also provide pet beds and gift baskets for your dog and cat on arrival - only in America!

A colleague is also staying at the Marlowe and was rattling on about having a Fish in his room called Francis. I listened for a while and asked what on earth he was talking about. He advised that the Marlowe's pet friendly policy goes as far as providing you with a Pet Fish for the duration of your stay if you don't have a pet.

I half believed him but my underlying cynicism thought that he might be pulling my leg. However, on my return to the hotel after work, I asked at reception feeling slightly foolish. The receptionist beamed and advised that she would be more than happy to provide a fish and when I returned to my room after dinner I found a bowl on my desk with Sebastian swimming happily around.

"No, I don't want to be in your Blog"

Alongside his bowl is a card telling me his name and that all I need to do is enjoy his presence as the hotel staff take care of his feeding, water etc. It might seem odd but it is really nice to have the little fellow around. When I was last in Boston I actually mentioned that how strange it was not to be in the company of animals and I can report that for some strange reason it is nice to have Sebastian mooching around his bowl when I get home at night.

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*late in the day we were informed that the client will submit questions tomorrow so our deliberations were abandoned but we are now expecting a late finish as we prepare for Thursday

A chat with my hat

Badman           Hat

Hat                  Yes Master

Badman           Hat, it’s time

Hat                  Yes Master

Badman           Hat, this is the moment that you were created for.

Hat                  Yes Master

Badman           Hat, now we step out in to a New England Winter.
                         Are you ready?

Hat                  Yes Master. My warm embrace will keep the chill
                         from your ears……

Badman           Thank you Hat

Hat                  ….. and your thinning pate

Badman           THANK YOU HAT

Hat                  Master?

Badman           Yes Hat

Hat                  Master, what will happen when I am old?

Badman           But Hat, you are still young and have years of
                         service yet to give

Hat                  Yes Master, but when I am old ...?

Badman           Then Hat, you will be suitably rewarded for the
                         fine times we have shared

Hat                  Thank you Master. My reward ...?

Badman           You will be given to Marauder and your fate will
                         ensure that you are recorded for all time in the
                         Bumper Book of Crime

Cue: Vincent Price Laughter

On a “Cut & Shut” with the Invisible Man

As I type this I am at 36,000 feet  listening to Buddy Holly. Something about listening to Buddy in an aircraft seems very wrong!

As I climbed aboard Continental flight CO27 from Birmingham, UK to Newark, NJ I had mixed feelings. First the elation of being gifted an aisle seat. This was improved further when I realised that the two seats adjacent to me were occupied by the Invisible Man and his partner*. Yes, I had a row of three seats to myself – now watch and learn as I spread myself out . I know it’s not an upgrade to Business Class but I can live in Cattle Class when all around me are crammed in and I have a row to myself. There is nothing like space and other people’s discomfort to give me a warm glow. No, it’s not selfish, I’ve done my time and flown the miles, I’ve earned this. I still have the mental scars of a flight to Mexico stuck between two very fat women and my last flight from Newark to Boston was between the Halitosis twins – THIS ROW IS MINE.

The smug feelings were somewhat dampened as I took my seat as looked up at the overhead lockers. Imagine my concern as I note, and I kid you not, that the row numbers go like this …..31, 32, 34, 35 …..

Notice anything there? WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO ROW 33? I am not kidding there is no row 33 on the plane. Now I know that some people are nervous of things being numbered 13 and so I would allow for row 12 to smoothly transition to row 14, But I can see no reason for missing out row 33. That smacks of extreme carelessness.

Should I be worried?

Now I’m not a big fan of United Airlines / Continental but fly with them I must – as long as my employer is paying but a missing row really does give me some major concerns. I can see only two reasons why row 33 is missing and neither of them gives me a warm glow.

The first is that it was a manufacturing error. OK, so I am sat at 36,000feet flying at about 550 miles per hour with nothing beneath me but a cold Atlantic in an aircraft that has been built by some Boeing red-neck than has problems with counting sequentially when he reaches the 30’s. I want to be flying in a plant that has been hand built by skilled craftsmen out of unobtanium not some tit who can’t count.

The second and even more worrying scenario is that this Boeing B757-200 is what is know in the trade as a “cut and shut”, in other words a plane that has been assembled from the front end of one plane and the rear of another**. They would have got away with it if it hadn’t been for that meddling kid in 34C that noticed that an entire row had been lost in this botched union.

I have saved this to a USB stick and will tuck it inside the Black Box when I have finished.

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 * I’m not sure whether the Invisible Man is married, gay or travelling with a business colleague on account of the fact that I couldn’t see either him or his partner.

** usually after accident damage!

A win at last

Sunday started an hour earlier than I would have liked as TP had a Rugby match scheduled at a nearby club.

His Team were matched against a “Development Squad” at one of the big local clubs. I have to admit that I wasn’t over confident as the A-Team feature a few County Players and I thought that the Dev Squad** would be pretty handy too. TP’s team have been a bit “iffy” recently and consequently I expected the worst ….

…. How wrong was I!. TP’s team absolutely thrashed the opposition with a final score of 34:5. It was an impressive score for an away match on a pitch that had a slope like a Himalayan foot hill. It could have been higher still as a couple of tries were lost due to an infectious case of “white line fever” where the players failed to pass to better positioned team mates. TP nearly scored too but was tackled in to touch just on the Try Line. Hopefully this will give the team the confidence boost they need and put them in shape for next Sunday’s home fixture.

The afternoon was somewhat hectic as T&M needed walking, my case needed packing and I had a piece of back bacon that needed removing from the dry cure, soaking and then having a thorough rub with black treacle.

After that I was ready for a very early night as I need to be up and out of the house by 6 a.m. to catch a 9 o’clock flight to Boston. This however was not going to happen as 30%’s brother and his GF joined us for Dinner before we went to the Courtyard Theatre at Stratford-on-Avon to spend an evening in conversation with Tim Minchin.

The aforementioned Mr Minchin has written the music and lyrics for Matilda, The Musical which is currently receiving massive acclaim and which I fucking missed because I was in Boston on the night I had front row. stalls tickets! 30%, TP and Jules all told me how fantastic the show was – CURSE THEM. Tim spent the evening talking about the show and how he constructed the songs. He was his usual funny self and he threw in a couple of his comedy numbers as well as excerpts from many of the show’s songs.

Despite not having seen Matilda, the show was great but I have this message for the arsehole that decided that he needed to check his i-Phone on the stairs as the entire population of the auditorium exited at the end of the show ….

…… “You, Mate, are not that fucking important and neither will you ever be that important. There is nothing in your tedious little life that necessitates holding up an entire theatre audience just because you want to see whether you have a text or a Facebook message. Also, you are not good looking enough to get a shag now FUCK OFF out of my way and try to get a semblance of a life instead of living a sad, empty, virtual one through the semen smeared screen of  your bloody phone – WANKER.

Rant over.

Oh, there was one other thing, the hens have managed a total of 6 eggs over the past eight days. It should be noted that I am well aware that this is down to two hard working members of the flock and the other, bone-idle, dozen or so better watch out - I know who you are*.

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* You can tell the layers by their bright red combs. The "slackers" are easy to identify.

** "B" Team

Domesticity

On Saturday TP spent the day with his Mum and 30% had nipped down to the Hair Salon to have some welding done so I was left to my own devices in the morning. NOTE TO SELF: comment* on 30%’s hair on her return.

I took T&M out for an early walk and then returned to dig my suitcase out from the garage ensuring that I picked the one with the US power adapted after the cock-up of my previous trip. I then spent a happy hour or so collecting my travel essentials together and made a start on tidying the kitchen.

30% and I lunched together and then I spent a couple of hours doing some necessary woodwork in TP’s new bedroom…..

….. Andy & Steve have been re-hired and are turning up the week after next to decorate the two bathrooms and TP’s new room. Although it is a pretty straightforward “sand and paint” sort of job there was an irritating narrowing gap between the TP’s door frame architrave and the wall. I therefore had to scribe and cut a fillet of timber a couple of metres in length and between 6 and 18 mm in width to fill the unsightly gap. Job Done.

In the evening we dined out at The Why Not; a local pub. The food was absolutely fantastic and the menu was surprisingly extensive. I had smoked duck breast as a starter and followed it with fillets of Sea Bass. I couldn’t fault it and TP and 30%’s meals were reported to be just as good.

We retired from the pub quite early as we were all shattered and collapsed sated in front of the TV.

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* “Positively” is probably best for my health

A Mystery Solved.

I bumped in to Marilyn this afternoon when I was walking T&M.

Marilyn (not her real name) is "mum" to Murphy and, until fairly recently Twig; a greyhound who sadly died last year. We wandered along where our walk routes overlap and Murphy bounded along with T&M. Marilyn commented that the exercise was doing him good as he no longer had Twig to play with. It was really nice to see T&M cavorting with him, especially as he bounded in to the Dew Pond which encouraged T&M to follow. Tyson was quite apprehensive as I think she is nervous of water after falling though the ice in to the Old Moat when she was chasing Ducks on Boxing Day. Her confidence eventually won out and she bounded in. Her desire to play with Murphy suggests to me that her next season may not be that far off either!

During the walk the conversation turned to Blaize who was another 2010 casualty and this is the mystery in the title of today's entry.

Blaize was a young gelding that lived in a paddock along my most frequent walk. Most days I would stop and give his nose a rub and rummage through my pockets for a Polo or two which he seemed to enjoy. Blaize was a fairly young horse, maybe 5 years old, but he had never been broken as it was suspected that he had a weakness in his forelegs and it was thought that he would not make a good hack, being susceptible to lameness. He therefore lived out his days in the paddock scrounging a variety of titbits and treats from the various walkers and passers by.

Just before Christmas Blaize disappeared from his paddock, or so I thought. The weather at that time was cold with heavy snow so I guess I just assumed that he was snug in his field shelter. The weather tended to make me hunch in to my coat and scarf and trudge on. So it was a couple of days before I noticed the blue tarpaulin in the field which was ominously horse shaped, or should I say "dead horse shaped". An acquaintance confirmed that he had been put down but that his corpse could not be moved until the snow had cleared somewhat.

The mystery was why he had been put down. He had seemed a young and healthy animal and had become a regular visit for me and many others. He had become just as much of an acquaintance on the walk as many people and a lot more personable than some!

I found out from Marilyn that he had been a victim of the hard frosts and snow and had apparently slipped on the frozen ground and damaged one of his front legs beyond hope of recovery. I'm guessing a break and so the vet was called in and his days were ended.

It was a bit dark walking past his covered corpse for a week or so until the thaw set in and a JCB was able to access his paddock and dig a suitably large hole. I quite miss the old fellow and the field is not such a pleasant point in the walk now it has a slight rise of bare earth at its centre.