Parenting

Today is Presidents Day. Before you rush off to examine your calendar to see what corner of the world is celebrating let me explain .....

...... A few weeks back TP's rugby team played and won against a team from Sutton Coldfield. Today is that team's Presidents Day and we were invited back to play them at home. This meant that I had a shit load of things to do before we all met up in the club car park at eleven o'clock.

By eight thirty I was breakfasted and caffeine charged and was climbing in to the Defender for a trip over to the feed stores to pick up 3 cwt of layers pellets. I was traumatised by the fact that the price has gone up a tenner in the past 12 months and am glad that I can simply reduce my flock to cut the feed bills. God knows how farmers can manage with the aggressive pricing policies that the supermarkets apply.

The price of wheat has gone up from £110 per tonne in June last year to nearly £200 per tonne now. That is a doubling of the feed price, add in the increases in fuel costs and general inflation and you have to ask how the supermarkets can keep food prices as low as they can and offer aggressive price cuts on meat products. One really has to ask what corners are being cut and who is being screwed in this economic model.

Sorry I digressed, but I have concerns about animal welfare and production standards when the  Supermarkets can sell two chickens for £5 or £6 and can halve pork prices on a regular basis.

Once home I managed a further coffee and then took T&M out for an early walk. The Opponent Club's dog policy is an unknown and so the terrible two will have to stay at home rather than risk being shut in the car for a couple of hours. They are pretty good at home on their own but it only seems fair to give them a good run before leaving them cooped up inside while we go out.

The match was a bit of a disaster. The opponents seemed to have significantly increased the size of their squad in the past 6 weeks and more realistic/cynical observers commented that the second row and flankers seemed a little more mature that the rest of the team. TP's team were massacred. Lets leave it at that.

Having run round like a mad thing to complete domestic duties so that I could donate 5 hours of my time to junior rugby I was a little annoyed that TP could do little more than grunt in response to anything I said today. Actually, scratch "little annoyed" and replace it with bloody furious. All he had done was get up, feed and dress himself while I had ensured that all those annoying little jobs had been completed so that I could chauffeur him North of Birmingham to get his arse kicked.

Needless to say we had "words" upon our return and a somewhat chastised TP was to be found wrestling the beast around the lawn for the first cut of the year. Regular readers of The Journal will know that the lawn mower and I are not the best of friends  - "Die You Red Rusty Bastard" - and making TP mow the lawn from now until eternity seems to be an admirable solution to this dysfunctional relationship.

A session with the Mountfield followed by half an hour with the yard broom and general garden maintenance under 30%'s tutelage seems to have improved TP's demeanour and by Dinner Time his company was tolerable to pleasant .........

............ Teenagers!

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Other Stuff:

I bumped in to Cathy H-R at the Village Shop on the way back from my walk and she advised that her two pigs will be going for slaughter next week. I have a half pig on order and she has offered me both heads which I gratefully accepted as I have found a recipe for cured pigs cheeks which looks like it could be very interesting.

I also managed to make a start on the preparation work in the bedroom this afternoon and a beautiful pine cupboard has slowly emerged from beneath 150 years of paint and grime.

I aint dead yet ......

Back on the 6th October 2010 I started a charcuterie experiment. We had just bought a half pig and I decided to attempt an air dried ham.

The leg was boned and and packed in a box of salt with weights applied to compress the joint. Ten days later it was removed from the box of salt, washed in white wine vinegar, wrapped in muslin and hung up in the garage.

Now six months have passed, so I steeled myself and  took down the ham. The muslin wrapping had a few patches of grey, green mould but my research indicated that this was to be expected. Apparently black mould is a bad sign but green and white are acceptable and one should rely on their nose. If it smells bad, throw it away. If is smells OK it probably is.

I unwrapped the ham and the surface was covered in a grey, green mould. It didn't look appetising but it smelt just like a commercial air dried ham.

Following the advice I had gleaned from the internet, I washed the ham with white wine vinegar and patted it dry. It certainly looked a lot less scary after that.

I summoned my last reserves of courage, picked up a sharp knife and cut away the outer surface. The smell was amazing. I cut a few thin slivers and sampled it .....

...... it tastes great. The texture near the surface of the ham is quite similar to beef jerky as it is dry and somewhat coarse but as the surface is pared away it becomes more like a prosciutto. The flavour is beautiful, not too salty and definitely comparable with a commercial ham.

All I need to do now is be still breathing tomorrow and I will be able to declare this cure a success.

Mother and Children doing well ....

After the surprise whelping of my Dad's hat on Tuesday, I thought I would take this opportunity to show you the latest picture of the litter.

I think Golfy has taken a shine to the one in the middle

 As can be seen, they are all doing really well and it wont be long before we need to find homes for them.

Still no news ....

On the work front there is still no news on the latest project. I managed to grab the attention of one of the Global Leads and was advised that our Senior Team are in with the client this afternoon and are expected to be given "a number". In other words our price is too high and they are going to be given a pricing target.

This snippet of information didn't really tell us much and there are so many permutations of "whats" and "ifs" that Golfy and I decided that we were not going to get anywhere with analysis and decided to talk rubbish instead for most of the day. The other interesting fact here is that I am having to drag updates from the Global Lead and forward them on to my colleagues in Europe, Japan and Asia ......

...... Apparently communication is not his strong point.

While we are waiting for the client decision we do what we can to improve the shape of the project* but this is challenging without additional information and my team really need to apply themselves on other activities that have more pressing time scales.

Other stuff

The day was beautiful and the lull in the workload meant that I had the opportunity to take a leisurely stroll round the Three Miler with T&M rather than some of the more rushed or missed walks recently.

This evening 30%'s friend; Jules will be joining us for dinner and it will be great to catch up with her and her news.

Not a lot else to report really and after the madness of the past few weeks I am enjoying coasting in neutral for a day or so.

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* "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming" - Dory in Finding Nemo. Golfy's suggested quote was from the out takes; "Nemo, where the fuck have you been?"

I wonder where I get it from?

This is an actual telephone conversation between me any my Dad ......

Bad Man jnr.      Hi Dad, you left your hat here when you called round to drop off 30%'s birthday present

Bad Man snr      Never Mind, I’ll pick it up when I pop round next week.

Bad Man jnr.      OK, so long as you don’t need it …..

Bad Man snr.     No, I’ve got plenty of hats. If it has a litter you can keep one of them ….

Bad Man jnr.      Fantastic, it will be like a speedy little tortoise

Obviously it’s not just me who thinks this way.

A good sized litter for a young Trilby bitch.

Dangling ...

Today has been spent responding to repeated requests for news about our Client's decision. Over the weekend I had occasionally checked my e-mail hoping for an announcement. None came and so this morning I was repeatedly saying "no news, as soon as I hear anything I'll let you know".

The US finally came on-line after lunch and I contacted the American Lead to be advised that the decision may be pushed back a few weeks and more will be known tomorrow. A FEW WEEKS! .....

.....So, what do we do now? We take deep breaths, wait a little longer, revise our resource plans once time scales are known and do what we can to progress those matters that can be progressed. Needless to say it is not going to be a late night tonight and the dogs have already been walked.

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Other stuff

The shell shock brought on by our Mothers Day visit to the Biscester Village retail outlet seems to be diminishing but I'm not sure that I will ever truly recover from the mental scarring that 4 hours surrounded by superficial, shopaholic, fuckwits has given me. I saw it all there! I can confirm that the Fashion Police definitely needed a Black Maria or two and I hope the coalition government see fit to ensure that this particular area of front line policing is not impacted by budget cuts.

Low point of the day* was the posturing guy with the blond highlights outside Superdry. He thought he looked the dogs bollocks but all I saw was him in the hairdressers chair wearing the rubber hat with his hair pulled through the holes  having the bleach applied. Also worthy of mention was the lady in shorts with tanned legs. It might have been a good look for her 15 years ago but the extra 28 lbs and the extremely noticeable cellulite were not working for her.

Now you might think I'm being an absolute bitch. Perhaps I am, but if you're going to try to make a statement be prepared to have someone critique it. Also "does my bum look big in this?" was a valid question that should have been asked and answered honestly in a number of cases yesterday.

* actually this wasn't the low point of the day, that was the shop assistant so thick that he couldn't cope with the question "do you have these in a 28 inch waist?". I hasten to add they were for TP not me.

Rhubarb, Rhubarb

Yesterday we took a trip in to Stratford to pick up a few odds and ends and took a wander around the Farmers Market. There were a couple of stalls selling Rhubarb which has just come in to season. Now normally I wait for VI to arrive on the doorstep with stems that he has acquired in his wanderings. Thus far this year none has turned up so I dug deep in to my pockets and purchased a kilo.

Now before you drift off, I need to point out that these lovely tart pink stems are going nowhere near a crumble and are not going to be simmered to form a compote. Here are my ingredients ....

The  observant will notice a complete lack of flour or fat. All I have here are a litre of very cheap vodka, appropriately 600g of Rhubarb, about 300g of sugar and a splash of vanilla extract. The Rhubarb gets chopped up in to small dice and is added to the preserving jar along with the sugar, the vodka and a few drops of vanilla essence. Clamp the lid shut, give it a good shake and put in a dark cupboard.

 Shake it every day for the next week, then shake weekly for the next six or seven weeks*. Finally filter and bottle.

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* Keep an eye on it. If you leave the rhubarb in for too long the colour of the liqueur can fade from pink to grey. Those in the know say 6 to 8 weeks at most.

No Washing Up

This evening we all applied spit and polish and drove out for dinner.

We approach Mothering Sunday and 30%'s birthday in the next few days so I had made a reservation for the Belle House in Pershore. None of us had eaten there before but an acquaintance who had been of great assistance in the project to get the Vespa back on the road last year said it was worth a visit.

He was spot on the mark. The restaurant is a converted Georgian House on the High Street, which is confusingly called Bridge Street*, and has an associated Deli next door - they confusingly call that a Traiture. Our table was on the first floor in an oak panelled, high ceilinged room. The service was great and the food was fantastic. Apparently they run demonstration sessions which might be an interesting diversion.

I won't bore with the details of who had what but the assiette of deserts was splendid as was the Guinea Fowl with the side order of local asparagus.

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* Pershore is a quite attractive little Georgian Town that has seemed to miss out on any great development. It therefore has an air of a reasonably well kept back water. It has always been the butt of local humour and even now older Pershore residents will bridle if they hear someone from Evesham mention the practice of "putting the pig on the wall to see the band go by". This implied insult is based on their simple and naive nature and desire to show their livestock something exciting.

Food Hygiene ....

Today 30% learnt that if cooked chicken is left in the fridge uncovered it evaporates* at an amazing rate....

...... Apparently even cling film (Saran wrap for  any US readers) won't stop cooked poultry from simply dissipating in to the atmosphere. It needs to be covered with aluminium foil or other non-transparent material for it to remain in the fridge without significant reduction in it's volume or net weight.

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* There are a number of foods that will evaporate. Most scientists will tell you that only  liquids evaporate and will do this very slowly in cool environments. What do they know? Have they seen the strange way that a Pork Pie appears to segment and diminish if left unattended?

Decisions Decisions ...

Today is the day that our prospective client makes the decision about which Supplier they would like to try to form a contract with.

So basically it is a case of "shit or bust". Either way someone is in for a rough ride. If we fall at this final hurdle I wouldn't want to be one of the Lead Sales Execs. If we clear it and take the lead Golfy and I am in for a god-awful 6 weeks starting on Monday.

In anticipation of success I have been making as many preparations as possible but today my efforts had a certain air of potential futility and I felt that, although success is likely, I should just sit and wait until Monday. I didn't, but I felt that way.

Picture Post. No. 6

Two days of meetings attempting to improve the knowledge and interlock between an American and European Team....

..... Obviously time for a picture post then

 

 This youngster was found minding his own business in a field in NW Scotland during our 2009 holiday. I'm not sure it is possible to take a bad picture of Highland Cattle......


...... "So, What are you breeding them for? Milk production, carcass conformation, productivity?"

"No, I just like 'em pretty".....

...... Now there is a scary thought!

So, how was it?

I picked up the Defender before work and am pretty pleased with the difference. To be honest the roads between the workshop and home are hardly ideal to test it out but it is far more responsive to the throttle.

It is a diesel four wheel drive truck with gearing and differentials to suit so is never going to be a rip snorting beast that drifts through the corners and leaves smoking trails of rubber as it pulls away from the lights. That sort of performance would require some form of NOS injected big block V8 which is hardly practical but would be highly entertaining.

First gear is a crawler so is very little affected but I found that as I change up the box there is far more power there. The engine spins up much faster, the throttle response is much improved and top gear acceleration is now a reality rather than a dream.

Hopefully I will get away from the desk to use it at some point this week......

.... work has been less than exciting. It is a hard slog. To continue with the motoring analogy, to date it has been like pushing a car uphill. It now seems to be like pushing a car uphill on its roof.

Weather Report

And the roiling clouds split asunder and a shaft of light lit up the scorched earth and there roaring mightily stood the Defender .....

...... "Bad Man, it's Mark from MP Trading. Your Defender's been Power upgraded. Its like a missile. You can come and get it. Phone me."

Sometimes, just sometimes, I get a message worth listening too.

Marauder's Bumper Book of Crimes. No. 7 in an occasional series

Marauder narrowly escaped a charge of Actual Bodily Harm after today's walk ......

..... our route took us past a free range egg farm and we dutifully put both T&M on leads as we walked the section of foot path that passes the barns and poultry enclosures. Once clear T&M were liberated and they charged off only to find a hen that had decided that working for a living was not for her and had plans to see  more of Warwickshire.....

.....  I don't think her plans to experience more of the world included being pinned down between Marauder's paws and plucked.*

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* To any particularly concerned about Hen Welfare I can report that the hen escaped with only feather loss. I am also guessing that working for a living is probably a lot more appealing after this morning's experience.

It was a normal start to Sunday with an alarm call as TP has a rugby match. Fortunately 30% and I have recovered from the worst of the "bug" and we piled in to the Defender and arrived at the club at 9.45 for pre-match training.

30% and I took T&M for a nice long walk whilst TP and his team mates prepared ....

.... obviously they needed more time, much more time, as they got their arses severely kicked this morning by a squad featuring a number of Warwickshire County players.

This afternoon saw us trundle up the road to attend VI's first birthday party. Now regular readers will know that VI is definitely not one year old. He is actually 60, but has never had a birthday party until today. It was a really nice afternoon "do", all very relaxed and informal with a cold buffet and a surprisingly good home brewed cider supplied by one of the Guests. Mad Bat and Dickie were there too and it was lovely to catch up with their news. We also managed to put an order in for half a pig and selected a few cuts of beef from a forthcoming slaughter. It was sort of a rural version of home shopping.

30% and I had decided on a nice new pair of size 12 wellingtons for VI and these were gratefully received as his current pair are well and truly knackered. Apparently the new pair will be be undergoing sea trials in May when VI and his long suffering spouse take a trip to Borth.

We arrived home well before 7 as we are both still not fully recovered from the bug and I propose to do nothing more energetic than press buttons on a remote control this evening.

The Dreaded Lurgy

Yesterday afternoon I started to feel unwell, nauseous to be honest.

I seem to have come down with the "bug" that is going round at present. This one is quite nasty. I'm usually pretty resilient to such things but I ended up in bed and haven't eaten anything for the best part of 24 hours. *

TP was unwell on Sunday and it seems that it is now 30% and my turn to share in it ....

..... yes 30% arrived home from work with a similar symptoms.

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* as for the rest of the symptoms, you really DON'T want to know

If I could turn back time .....

I have just dialled in to a Conference Call where it transpired that "Statutory Consultation Periods" and "Expressions of Interest" were the main subjects of discussion.

As I waited for the call to commence, there was a knock on the door. T&M went mental and I opened the door with the phone held to the side of my head......

..... it was a Romany Lady selling Lucky Heather.

Perhaps I should have made a purchase?

Bad Night's Sleep

I woke on Friday morning having had the worst night's sleep. Let me explain....

...... Spring is here and the mouse population is booming. Potato and Eddy have free rein so come and go as they please. Last night Eddy hopped up stairs and decided to play with his latest "friend" in the bedroom that has just been plastered.

Yep, that's the one, the empty bedroom with bare floor boards that is nice and echoey. T&M being inquisitive dogs decided to go and investigate and soon we had a cat, a mouse and two dogs clattering round the bedroom. It is now three o'clock in the morning and I am wide awake.


Eddy then decides to take his prey downstairs and things quieten - briefly. I try to settle but am disturbed by a peculiar scraping sound. I wander down stairs. The mouse has obviously climbed inside one of my boots and Eddy is trying to encourage him out.

Using my opposable thumbs and monkey brain, I open the back door and shake the little bugger out. I then retire to bed with Eddy giving me a "look".

I then toss and turn for another couple of hours before falling properly asleep just before the alarm.

Judge Dread ....

Today we have been spending time trying to get our Quality People more comfortable with our Project.

We have been holding a number of calls to further familiarise them with the scope and issues as they seem not to be able to pick up a 'phone or draft an e-mail independantly. Apparently I am their serf.

Today we held a call with Human Resources and during this call Judge Dread shouted out a question about billing and revenue streams during a particular phase of the project....

..... I was somewhat taken aback and asked him to explain the relevance of the question to an HR discussion. He then said "so we are only talking about HR"......

..... "Er, yes" was my reply since that was the specialism of the Key Speaker.

Is it me?

I wonder if he take this approach in other parts of his life. If so, I can see him walking up to the Doctor's Receptionist and asking for a couple of fillets of Sea Bass.

Today ....

... is the day that I celebrate my Birthday. It is not the day that I was born. That date sits a couple of days before Christmas and is not a great day to have a Birthday. As a consequence, a few years back I decided to have an official birthday but could never find a day that seemed suitable.

After all, if you have 364 other days to choose from which one do you go for? Obviously you can weed out the crappy ones such as those in the same month as your day of birth and obviously you don't want to clash with any of your  friends or families anniversaries or other religious festivities but that is still going to give you a good 250 dates to choose from.

I settled on the 23rd March. The fact that I was born on the 23rd of a different month is pure coincidence. The reason I chose this date is because back in 2008 I had what some people refer to as  a "life changing experience". I would rather refer to it as a killer after dinner story.

Those who know me really well know a lot more detail than I am prepared to record here but back on 23rd March 2008 after a busy day tiling the kitchen floor I had a major headache. The sort that comes on very rapidly and results in incoherence and vomiting. I later found out that I had suffered a sub-arachnoid brain haemorrhage. To cut a long story short these are a killer. 40% of people who have them don't make it to the hospital and, of those who do, 40% leave the hospital severely disabled.  I survived pretty much unscathed which means that I am one of the lucky 36%. It took the best part of 6 months to get back to work and a full year before I was back to "normal" but here I am with a great after dinner story* and the perfect day to select as my official birthday**.

So there you have it. Am I a changed person as a result of nearly shuffling of this mortal coil? No, not really. I do know I am lucky and I do know that every day should be treasured. I also have very little tolerance for people who think that a work deliverable is the most important thing in the world.

As for today I have been bogged down in arranging a series of meetings to get my project's quality rating improved. To be honest I had totally forgotten that it was my "official b'day" until a card arrived from 30%'s mum and dad.

That leads me to my final point. At the age of 47 I have pretty much got past the excitement of a birthday and perhaps having most of them overshadowed by Christmas is the reason why. I am sure that 30% and I will do something nice in the not too distant future and I am sure that at some point I will think of something that I would like as a gift. But there is no rush as I joke that I am now immortal as none of the gods wanted to take me 3 years ago in 2008.

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* I have another one about a "Lads trip to Amsterdam" and a live sex show but I need to be very drunk to tell that one.

** Probably not a good idea to tell me you have a bad headache. Mine lasted 5 weeks and they used to move me on to morphine at night when I had reached prescription limits of codeine and paracetamol. Incidentally the drugs only took the edge off the pain I had to wait for my body to clear the haemorrhaged blood before the pain dissipated.