Picture Post. No. 4

Most of my day has been spent number crunching and the hours I wasn't doing that were spent walking T&M or packing TP's case for his skiing trip.

A consequence of this lack of news is that it is probably best if I go with a Picture Post rather than trying to make cramming salopettes in to a case sound interesting. Believe me I wouldn't even attempt to make consolidating cost estimates even slightly appealing.

Double Rainbow Loch Glencoul, Scotland. Aug 2009

This double rainbow was taken during our 2009 Summer Holiday in North West Scotland. It was taken from the window of the chalet which overlooked Loch Glencoul near Kylescu. It is an amazing place; remote beautiful and wild. The loch is home to seals and sea otters, although we only saw the former while we were there.

At low tide TP and I would wander down to the loch shore and collect wild mussels. After a quick scrub to remove the barnacles and weed 30% would cook them in a pan with white wine, shallots and garlic and serve them with a cream sauce. They were amazing and one evening TP actually found a small pearl in one of them.

Progress

Progress: making head way, moving forward, developing .....

...... Hmmm, probably far to early to tell.

I took Marauder to Dog Training last night and, for the first time in months, she was relatively calm whilst waiting to go in. There was no nervous barking, just friendly sniffing of her class mates. I also noticed while we were walking today that she didn't bark when we met Dave and his Welsh Terrier Grace. Is she making progress? Hmmm - probably far to early to tell.

I let the chickens out this morning and found that one of the Light Sussex had laid an egg. I have mentioned before that the hens are an aged bunch that only lay when the sun shines. We had a few eggs back in January when it snowed and I wondered at the time whether the light reflecting off the snow was enough to stimulate one of the Minorcas to lay. I may have had something there as it was very early in the year and the supply soon dried up again. It is getting to the point in the year when they should start to lay like crazy. They are certainly ploughing through the food at the moment and it would be nice if the relationship was a little more of a two way street.

On the work front...... actually "Bollocks" to the work front. Most of my team seem to think that I am there to apply the proverbial toilet paper. On a number of occasions today they have chucked crap over the wall and expected me to just live with it. To continue with the metaphor, since my hands were already dirty and full, I just threw it back at them and politely asked them to sort out their own problems rather than pass them to me. I have sat goggled eyed incorporating their outputs in to a costing tool for most of the day and can report that the tool is pretty lacklustre too. I have therefore signed off and called it a day.

Head Down

Today has pretty much passed me by. I managed to get out for a walk mid afternoon but other than that I has been sat on front of a laptop or with a phone glued to my ear.

I have to update a set of costs by the end of the week and am consequently chasing round to ensure that the right people are available and understand what to do. So far, so good but it is only Monday evening. I would suggest that we monitor the levels of expletives in the Journal as the week progresses.

Outside of work it was St Valentine's day and I was rewarded with a fantastic Monkey Card and a pair of tickets to see Dolly Parton when she tours in September. As 30% put it "a trip to see the Grand Tetons"*. This was a very appropriate cryptic clue considering our planned August road trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons National Parks.

---------------

* Translate it via Google if you must

Rain Stopped Play

The plan for today was that 30% would take TP to Rugby Practice. She had volunteered to assist with the fund raising car wash at the Rugby Club. Having seen the state of her car, whichever poor devil got to wash that had definitely pulled the short straw. It was, to use the popular vernacular, minging.

I had planned to stay back at The Pile and sand the doors in TP's newly decorated bedroom.  This task was originally in the scope of the decorating work recently undertaken by Andy & Steve but they cocked up their estimates and didn't have enough time. So I now have a freshly painted room and two stripped, pine, ledge and brace doors to sand. Obviously I didn't want to fill a freshly painted room with dust so the plan was to drop them off their hinges and sand them outside on a couple of saw horses.....

....... as I said "that was the plan" until I checked the weather and saw that it was going to be drizzle followed by rain. Ho Hum, so I went with Plan B and put a coat of emulsion on the walls and ceiling in TP's bathroom.

Actually that was Plan C. Plan B was to place my arse on the sofa and watch a recording of yesterday's Rugby International. I know that there will be shouts of hypocrite following my piece on not getting the point of Sky + but the fact that I already knew the score and therefore painted the bathroom sort of reinforces the point I was trying to make; that most television isn't worth recording and, whilst TV ranges from an informative medium to an entertaining diversion, real life generally has the edge.

30% and TP returned shortly after midday and reported that the car washing had also been postponed due to the inclement weather. This means that the Seat is still crud encrusted and I am beginning to think that Thursday's break down was some form of protest. I am wondering if the lawn mower has been agitating again.

After Lunch Ian the Chippy and wife Debbie called round and we had a good natter and talked through the bits and pieces we wanted doing. They are a really nice couple and easy company and it will be great to have him involved in the next phase of the project.

The remainder of the afternoon was filled with a soggy walk round the Three Miler and then a quick bath for T&M.

The sun came out and 30% and I got busy today.

TP was spending the day with his Mum so it was a quick trip to Tesco, Lunch and then a list of chores. The new light and switch were installed in TPs bathroom and, after the dogs were walked, the bathroom cabinet was put on the wall.

Floors were scrubbed and swept and the debris that accumulates during the week was cleared away. Nothing exciting just a long list of domestic duties but a sense of satisfaction at the end of the day that The Pile looks a little more "together".

Over the past few months we have been more focussed on the renovations and we have a Chippy coming over tomorrow to quote for a few tasks including a fitted wardrobe in our Bedroom and a cupboard on the Landing.

He is a very capable Carpenter and General Builder and was part of the Team that built the extension back in 2007/08. Due to the age of the Property and it's consequent irregularity he built the roof by hand on site. There were no pre built roof trusses to be craned in to place and each length of wood was individually cut to fit. He also laid the oak floor on the Landing so we know that his carpentry repertoire runs from structural to decorative.

 All we need to do now is "get our ducks in a row" so that Andy and Steve have replaced the Bedroom ceiling before Ian is ready to come in a build the wardrobe.

----------------------------

Other Stuff:

30%'s car came back from the local workshop. They had run a diagnostic test and no faults had come up and the damned thing started when they got it back to the workshop. It was fortunate that they tried to start it when they picked it up from home and it resolutely refused to fire up, otherwise we would have looked like a right pair of idiots. The fuel system has been checked and the filters replaced but nothing significant has come to light. It may have been contaminated fuel but they cannot be sure.  The Mechanic had come across this before in an Audi with the same engine and no cause could ever be identified. The engine type is normally very reliable so it is a case of fingers crossed that this is a "one off". Their advice was to join the AA and it if started to play up consider it time to get a replacement vehicle.

Work has started to ramp up as our prospective client has decided that they quite like the proposal that we have presented and we are through to the next stage. There will now be many weeks of discussion, debate and development of "numbers" hopefully followed by a similar amount of time devoted to Contractual debate before pen is put to paper.

Roller Coasters are for pussies .....

..... pass me the cream bowl.

Early yesterday evening 30% and I popped out to see a Blacksmith at his Forge over the other side of Droitwich. He was a nice guy and the iron curtain poles were just what we wanted so an order was placed for a couple of the bedrooms and the landing. We then returned to the car and drove off. Within 300 yards 30%'s car stalled in the middle of a country lane and refused to start.

Not what you want to see down a dark country lane

When I say Country Lane I mean COUNTRY LANE it was narrow with high banks and hedges either side."Ah" you are thinking "Banjo Country, stuck in the middle of nowhere"  - "No" this lane was like the M1. Within is a couple of minutes we had cars behind us and a truck in front. So there we were blocking a country lane in the dark.

I got out to explain our predicament to the truck driver. He was understanding and said he would reverse back. As we were talking a Traveller Gentleman in a small flat bed wagon asked if I wanted a tow out of the lane on to the main road. We gratefully accepted and within a few minutes were attached to his wagon by about 12' of rope - make a note of this as it becomes relevant later on.

So off we went at a fairly sedate 20 miles per hour down the lane. Mind you 20 mph down a narrow lane is bad enough add in that I am 12' from the back of a truck with no power steering and no brake servos and, lets say, it demanded a high degree of concentration.

At the end of the lane we stopped and my new Traveller friend came to untie us. He asked where we were from and we told him. He was unfamiliar with the village but was going to Redditch which was a damned site nearer civilisation than we were at present. He offered to tow us and we gratefully accepted. Thus began the ride of a lifetime.

If you have never been towed before let me tell you that it is not fun. It demands absolute concentration in a vehicle which handles like an absolute pig due to the lack of power assistance to steering and breaks. Remember I was 12' from the back of a truck and could see nothing so could only concentrate on his brake lights with my foot hovering over the centre pedal. It was dark and the route took us around the edge of Bromsgrove and down a dual carriage way. Roundabouts, drizzle and the end of the rush hour summed up the conditions. I wasn't having fun.

I hoped things would be better when we got on to the dual carriage way but my Traveller Buddy seemed to think that 50 mph was a suitable towing speed. So there we were, 12' from the back of a truck at 50 mph in the dark. Every cell of my body was screaming hit the brakes but I could do nothing but go along for the ride. You will not believe the sense of relief when we finally drew to a halt in Redditch.

As I said in the title Roller Coasters are for pussies, pay a Gippo £30 to tow you 16 miles along a blend of country lanes, suburban roundabouts and fast dual carriage ways if you really want to get your heart pumping and a real sense of danger.

Epilogue

A quick call to 30%'s younger brother got us a lift home and then Dickie and I went out with the Defender to tow the car at a far more sedate pace back home.

Marauder's Bumper Book of Crimes. No. 6 in an occasional series

It has been noted that Marauder has been coming in from the garden with muddy paws, much muddier than usual.

Investigations have discovered a large hole has been excavated at the edge of the lawn near the chicken coop.

Marauder is asking that six similar offences be "taken in to consideration" after consultation with the cat's brief.

At the end of the walk

As we were nearing the end of our walk this afternoon a Buzzard lifted up from a paddock maybe 20 or 30 yards away. I watched as it slowly gained a little height and then headed off alternating between shallow glides and stiff wing beats.

It then dived and alighted in a tree about 200 yards away where the Bridle Path meets the field where TP sledges when it snows. It was a lovely few moments and, thinking it was finished, I turned to continue my walk.

As I adjusted my heading another Buzzard caught my eye coming in low from the North East. It too flapped and swooped then settled in the same tree, perhaps a pair.

Let's call it a draw

This morning I wandered down stairs to find Eddy with a mouse sat between his paws.

He looked up and in the manner of a true psychopath his expression changed, in an instant, from one intent on dissection and murder to one of pure innocence."He was lost and I was just giving him directions" was Eddy's response to my knowing look.

I collected up a small cardboard box and torch and in a couple of minutes the mouse was safely caught. It seemed intact and was soon released in the garden. All in all it was a rare comeback from the rodent team against some serious opposition. One all!

Humdrum

Very little to report today.

Yesterday evening's dog training went well with Marauder showing much improvement. This was the second week that she had attended without Tyson and she was far more comfortable with the exercises and generally more focussed. There was mention of the feasibility of splitting the two dogs in to separate classes but realistically I'm not sure that would be possible.

On the work front things are still quiet and I have a feeling of impending doom as I have a strong suspicion that every day of inaction now will mean extra long days in the near future. In other words, just because the client is not yet able to give us any direction does not mean that they will move their "end date".

I have a few odds and ends to keep me ticking over - barely.

Fasten your safety belts ....

.... it might get a little bumpy. Yesterday 30% and I had one of those odd conversations.

"You mean you had one of those odd monologues and I had to suffer it",

"Thank you Darling"

Basically we started off talking about the weather and ended up with a mutant combination of biblical character, enigmatic and slightly malevolent children's fairy tale anti hero and associated rodents. 

It went like this ... actually I had better forewarn the sensitive to look away now ...

...... Basically were we off to to watch TP play Rugby and I was dithering about whether to wear a hat or not. "Take one and put it in your pocket" advised 30% "You've got millions". "I've got millions of pockets ?" I replied. "That must mean I've got a coat like Joseph".

That was the first mental leap from one set of rails to another. Hold tight it gets worse.  I then managed to mangle this so that the son of Jacob was wandering around in the ancient Middle East in a coat with a million different coloured pockets. It then slid further in to chaos  ....

...... At this point the Pied Piper of Hamlin entered; stage left with his entourage of vermin. I'm not sure how I made this leap but it might have been a peculiar wardrobe based decision. To cut a long story short Joseph, well know star of West End Musicals and part time biblical figure is now wandering around with a horde of trained rats each of which is trained to sit in its own particular pocket.

30%'s long suffering response; "aren't rats colour blind?"

Must be a phase of the moon

For the past week, or so, whenever I have sat down and started to do something one or other of the bloody cats has started yowling or scratching at the to be let in or out. How is it that the little gits are so persistent and that their vocal demand is perfectly pitched to hit my central nervous system like lemon juice in a cut....

..... I am jerked, puppet like from my endeavour to act as door man for the little sods. This is where it gets ridiculous. Most of the time they don't seem to want anything particular. They just fancy a mooch round the closed off room and then want to come back and try another door or see whether they can kip on the keyboard, basically anything that interrupts me from my mission.

I am starting to think that they are in competition to see how many doors they can actually get me to open in a set amount of time. My suspicions were alerted this morning when Eddy wanted to view the cellar. There is absolutely nothing down there to entice a cat. It is a typical cellar; cool and slightly damp and marked by a complete absence of rodents. Whilst the remainder of the house features warm, soft beds and cat food Eddy wants to go and check on the St Emilion. He's messing with my head.

Well they need to be careful as Potato was sat by the meat slicer last night and I noticed that he would comfortably fit on the mechanism that slides the meat past the blade. It was at this point that a synapse sparked and a new Deli product was on the drawing board.....

..... Parma Cat. It would be a 100% certified number one seller, Cat shaped, wafer thin slices of air cured cat. How chic would that look on a plate? I hope the furry cads read this and realise that the one with the monkey brain and opposable thumb is getting ideas above his station.

It finally arrived ......

Butcher to his wife "I had to let go of Jim today. I found him with his cock in the bacon slicer".

Wife in response "Oh, that's revolting, what about the bacon slicer?"

Butcher "I fired her too"

It is certainly not the best joke in the world but it has a certain relevance today .....

.... first things first, the relevance is tenuous. I have not been dismissed from Dante's for inappropriate relations with company equipment. Anyone who actually reads this stuff will be aware that one of my hobbies is the curing of bacon, plus a singular foray in to air dried ham which will not be ready to sample for another month at least.

To date I have hand hand sliced the cured flitches which is fine and I can make a reasonable job of it. However a Bacon Slicer would allow a decent job right up to the end of the flitch when hand slicing results in a certain nervousness about one's fingers.

Several months ago I mentioned that I was curing bacon to Pat. Pat is an elderly divorcee who lives in the centre of the village. She is quite a character with two Jack Russell Terrers and a penchant for gin. She is a delight; straight talking, independent and a mean cook. Her cottage is right where I cross the High Street when I take T&M round the three miler and we regularly bump in to each other as she is always "coming and going".

"Oh" she said "You must talk to my son; Richard. He is a Butchery equipment supplier, based in Scotland". A few days later she called at the door and thrust a card in to my had. "Call him" she said "He'll sort you out with a slicer".  After having looked on e-Bay I had a vague idea of what I was after but was reluctant to bid on a Slicer without a better understanding. I called Pat's son and he was an absolute star. He talked me through the ins and outs and advised that bacon is one of the most challenging products to slice due to its texture and the expectation of quite thin rashers.

Top end kit runs in to the Thousands but he advised that he would be able to sort me out with a trade in unit for a couple of hundred provided that I would accept a bit of "tailing". This is where the end of the rasher tends to stretch and the final few millimetres of cut is somewhat ragged. As a hobbyist this was not a major issue so a deal was struck and he said that he would drop a slicer down the next time he visited his Mum......

...... and that was the last I heard from him for a good few months until the middle of this week when Pat slid a note through the letterbox. Richard had moved house and had lost my phone number but had not forgotten about me. He was visiting this weekend and I simply needed to call him if I was still interested.

The call was made and I now have a beast of a slicer sat on the island in the kitchen. It may seem an extravagance, perhaps it is, but we home prepare a lot of food that needs slicing from hams for sandwiches to the much mentioned bacon. We did try a domestic slicer that was loaned by a frolleague of 30% but it's performance was inadequate and it's cleaning a nightmare.

I now appear to have another power tool and this one is in competition with the chainsaw for the title of tool most likely to remove Bad man's body parts.

I love my chainsaw

I guess that like a lot of men I quite like power tools. The fact that The Pile is a bit of an ongoing project means that they are a necessity and get used on a fairly regular basis, all of them except one; my chainsaw.

She is supreme amongst the drills and saws, the routers and sanders, the planers and strippers. Why? Why because she is a Power tool with a Capital "P". I don't get to use her often but that little two stoke engine is outrageous. the noise, the smell and the sheer brutality as she chews her way through wood.

That is one of things about her. She demands absolute respect and absolute concentration. She is scary, dangerous and needs 100% concentration. She is both absorbing and enthralling.

Last week at the  Burns Night Supper I was seated at the same table as Village Idiot. At some point in the evening VI asked if I wanted a couple of pallets for the fire. I was short of kindling and accepted the offer. VI and I have a very casual relationship and there was a common and therefore unspoken understanding that the transfer of the pallets would happen at some point and that it required no further arrangements.

It was therefore no surprise when I found them dumped on the drive one afternoon this week when I returned from walking T&M. They were a couple of beauties; lots of nice thin planks that make great kindling and plenty of chunky corner pieces that burn easily and would soon form a good bed of hot ashes to kick out some heat and allow hardwood logs to take light.

This afternoon I finished work while it was still light and took the opportunity to break out the chainsaw and convert the couple of pallets in to firewood; literally. It was absorbing and a great change from my normal day. The kindling bin has been replenished and the chunkier pieces are smouldering as I type. There is nothing like coming home to a real fire and its even better when the fuel is "gratis" - Cheers VI.

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

---------------

* 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.

----------------

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.

----------------------

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.

---------------

* in the hope of a Professional being called upon instead