29/07/2011
Do cows queue?
Why would they?
Any ideas? 
Do cows queue?
Why would they?
Any ideas?
I'm out and about
Friday, 29 July 2011
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
Monday, 25 July 2011
Bambi like......
These are the legs that in the last 28 hours have
- supported me through the jungle that consumed my lawn as we hacked it into submission.
- carried me as we ran through the heat as we brought the message that the jungle had been defeated in the great battle of the lawn. (Alright it was a 5km run in the woods).
- twitched and turned as they could not settle into restful overnight slumbers.
- swished and swooshed through a two and a half hour ski lesson
- that gave up the ghost on sitting down and promptly fell asleep due to there "Bamboidial" * nature
*Bamboidial as in like Bambi the new born deer with shaky and weak legs, appearing unable to support the weight of Bambi.
Tomorrow it's a horse riding lesson, legs required?
Sunday, 24 July 2011
Saturday, 23 July 2011
How not to ski
22nd July 2011
The second part of my film, the smile at the end is relief! 
The second part of my film, the smile at the end is relief!
Sent from my iPad
Hold tight!
22nd July 2011
Oh and here's me the first few frames on my face and body language speak volumes 
Oh and here's me the first few frames on my face and body language speak volumes
Sent from my iPad
Swish! Swoosh!
22nd July 2011
For most of my life snow has been something to play in, to throw, to slide on, to lie in and to see every so often in the winter. the closest I ever came to skiing was to eat the yogurt. In my youth when I was more bendy and less decrepit I shied away from school ski trips fearful that I would fall and something would snap, injuries would ensue and I would be unable to participate in my first sporting love of athletics. All that changed last evening when we ventured into a large cold hall where snow lives regardless of whatever the weather is outside, we'll gloss over the less than green credentials that this might have and move on. So first time on ski's for me but not my dear beloved who the more I discover about her I am sure she was a member of the free French resistance stationed in the Pyrenees. I can't speak French she says (she can!) and I can't ski. This was before she shared with me the journeys of her off piste adventures, skiing down the Eiger! It's all supposed to be alleviated by "it was all many years ago". I struggled to achieve any standard in the beginner class we had joined. Maximum altitude attained was about 3 metres and felt pleased, however "Modesty Blaise" informed me in passing that at her MI6 height she could have swished down from the top. So there we where, me looking like an animated geometry lesson all hard angles and difficult comprehension. If you look closely you can see why I failed mathematics it's was all sweat and graft for me. When you look at my fellow learner "Madame Swish! Swoosh! she by comparison looks like she steps out of the last "007" movie leaving me to languish in a "Johnny English" film. See for yourself, can't have been so bad though we're going back next week......................but in different classes! 
For most of my life snow has been something to play in, to throw, to slide on, to lie in and to see every so often in the winter. the closest I ever came to skiing was to eat the yogurt. In my youth when I was more bendy and less decrepit I shied away from school ski trips fearful that I would fall and something would snap, injuries would ensue and I would be unable to participate in my first sporting love of athletics. All that changed last evening when we ventured into a large cold hall where snow lives regardless of whatever the weather is outside, we'll gloss over the less than green credentials that this might have and move on. So first time on ski's for me but not my dear beloved who the more I discover about her I am sure she was a member of the free French resistance stationed in the Pyrenees. I can't speak French she says (she can!) and I can't ski. This was before she shared with me the journeys of her off piste adventures, skiing down the Eiger! It's all supposed to be alleviated by "it was all many years ago". I struggled to achieve any standard in the beginner class we had joined. Maximum altitude attained was about 3 metres and felt pleased, however "Modesty Blaise" informed me in passing that at her MI6 height she could have swished down from the top. So there we where, me looking like an animated geometry lesson all hard angles and difficult comprehension. If you look closely you can see why I failed mathematics it's was all sweat and graft for me. When you look at my fellow learner "Madame Swish! Swoosh! she by comparison looks like she steps out of the last "007" movie leaving me to languish in a "Johnny English" film. See for yourself, can't have been so bad though we're going back next week......................but in different classes!
Sent from my iPad
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
Where in the world?
20th July 2011
Dinner scoffed (spaghetti carbonara, if you're wondering) and sitting with a weather programme burbling over the telly waves. They're banging on about how wet and rainy the UK is during the summer.
Personally I don't mind I've been here for so long now it's just the price one pays for living here in the UK. Sometimes it's wet and sometimes not so......wet!
If you had the choice though where would you stay all year around instead of here?
Some of you may plump for some place hot but having spent 18 months living and working in Saudi Arabia I can assure that it rains there too, warm rain. When it's not raining it's hot, anyone for 40c plus in the summer?
Australia?,
around the Med?
Tropics?
Personally Sweden has an appeal. Cold, dry winters and warm, dry summers. Maybe I'm wrong?
What about you?
Stop!
I'm sitting here in the airport waiting for my lift back home. I'm not sitting here to watch the planes take off or land. The registration numbers on the fuselage pass me by, a plate spotters note book I do not possess.
No I'm sitting here because there is an electric plug socket here and my phone is almost squeezed dry of juice.
In my peripheral vision I'm aware of a plane landing. I look up and see it moving towards me!
Now I have every confidence in the driver and the parking person. What though if the pilots hands slipped, their foot came off the clutch or brake or whatever. If the ground crew person got their left and right mixed up, what then?
It's a toss up between a scene from Airport or should that be Airplane?
I'm moving.....
Monday, 18 July 2011
Thirsty?
> > 18th July 2011 Cold, flat (well it will be after that), cola isn't everyone's choice but it'll do me.
> > 
> >
> > > > > I'm out and about
Comments welcome
18th July 2011
Hello,
Its seems that in all the blog jiggery pokery of the last couple of months the ability to add your comment to my blog had been changed allowing only those with level 13 clearance to do so. I've discovered this fact as I was eating my lunch. I believe that I have rectified this error.
So if so moved please leave your comments, they are always warmly received.
Back to work for me.
Bye
Sunday, 17 July 2011
Wet again!
The rain has been here off and on all day and yet again I got caught in it. Saves on shower water I suppose. I'll take some soap in my pocket next time just in case.
By the way after the camera slipped out of my hand I stuck it under my chin.
Strawberries in the rain
16th July 2011
It's been raining in bouts all day. A heavy but short bout there a drizzle here, muggy cloud in between. In between "showers"? I decided to collect some strawberries from the patch. The rain started and I thought just a drizzle, but it wasn't and became what you now see.....Saturday, 16 July 2011
Strawberries in the rain
16th July 2011
It's been raining in bouts all day. A heavy but short bout there a drizzle here, muggy cloud in between. In between "showers"? I decided to collect some strawberries from the patch. The rain started and I thought just a drizzle, but it wasn't and became what you now see.....Friday, 15 July 2011
12 minutes
15th July 2011
A few weeks ago I was reading some thing or other and stumbled across Cooper testing. It's not a test on my spelling ability, the aptitude that I might have to write so many words a minute in short hand or how many boiled eggs I can make disappear into a Fes at one session.
No, this is a fairly scientific test to ascertain basically how much oxygen you can shift the more you can shift the healthier you are supposed to be. You motor along for 12 minutes and depending how far you travel before you drop, this is the indicator that you are average, alive lots or just functioning above couch potato level.
Now I've said before that I'm not a sea creature but decided to try a Cooper swim test a few weeks ago and the result infomed me that I'm a poor swimmer. Just a level above a floating cork apparantly. Really Sherlock!
This evening though I decided to try the land version sans gills and ran for my allocated 12 minutes. I wasn't so much eyeballs out but the old cheeks were puffing big time. I didn't die though which, is always a bonus and once I recovered I looked at the Cooper test run tables.
Happily I am not in the dry land poor category and was very chuffed.......
Ego massaged spoiler alert!
....to read that I ran not quite at the level one would expect from a resident of the Rift Valley but at least my distance would have me pass for someone ten years my junior!
:D
What followed next I can only assume was due to oxygen depletion with my blood supply too busy moving waste products from my legs to worry about nourishing my brain. I was convincing myself that I swam longer in the 12 minutes swim test than I ran today. As I worked out the mental arithmetic behind this decision, my brain started to numb, but this could also have been the cold water that the shower was now pouring onto my cranium.
The obvious was being missed and had something to do with that old friend the decimal point. Duh!
Perhaps the Cooper test is a test of mental arithmetic after all?
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Up or Down?
> > 13th July 2011
> > It's so easy to go down, gravity helps of course, giving in also helps. It's the easier route.
> > Going up is harder, more effort to accomplish, fighting as you do against Newtons principles. You have to resist the urge to take the lift. Your joints or lungs might protest when you go up.
> > Personally I like the up situation there will be a time when I'll be unable to go up and and will be happy to go down but not yet!
> 
> > It's so easy to go down, gravity helps of course, giving in also helps. It's the easier route.
> > Going up is harder, more effort to accomplish, fighting as you do against Newtons principles. You have to resist the urge to take the lift. Your joints or lungs might protest when you go up.
> > Personally I like the up situation there will be a time when I'll be unable to go up and and will be happy to go down but not yet!
>
> > > > > I'm out and about
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Sunday, 10 July 2011
Dramatic Licence
9th July 2011 How often do you find yourself watching a "drama" on tv and you hear yourself saying things such as "rubbish" "never happen" "no way" "doesn't happen" Or the Scottish variants of "aye right" and "mince" and my own colloquialism of "gen!" Tonight's drama is based in a hospital and involves medical negligence and death.
Now it's a while since I worked in a hospital but many wrongs never play a right. So shall I reach for the remote or keep conversing with the actors in the misbelief that they will hear me?
I'm out and about
Now it's a while since I worked in a hospital but many wrongs never play a right. So shall I reach for the remote or keep conversing with the actors in the misbelief that they will hear me?
I'm out and about
Saturday, 9 July 2011
Friday, 8 July 2011
Creepy crawlies eeeek!
Sitting on the sofa with a dog at my feet his ear lobe folded back and horrors upon horrors........
Blue light
Have you ever came across blue fluorescent lighting before? The type of lighting that you would find in some public toilets.
The reason behind the blue fluorescent lighting is that it supposedly makes fighting a vein very difficult if you are an intra venous drug user.
In the past I've come across this in the occasional bar bathroom but more so when I was required, whilst in another role to visit the Sheriff Court.
Now I can see why this lighting would be in these two types of establishments but today's visit was in the building of a well respected think tank.
Does this mean they are trying to discourage this type of behaviour or is it more a case of a sheltered designer who only had eyes for aesthetics?
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Blue light
Have you ever came across blue fluorescent lighting before? The type of lighting that you would find in some public toilets.
The reason behind the blue fluorescent lighting is that it supposedly makes fighting a vein very difficult if you are an intra venous drug user.
In the past I've come across this in the occasional bar bathroom but more so when I was required, whilst in another role to visit the Sheriff Court.
Now I can see why this lighting would be in these two types of establishments but today's visit was in the building of a well respected think tank.
Does this mean they are trying to discourage this type of behaviour or is it more a case of a sheltered designer who only had eyes for aesthetics?
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
It stinks!
06/07/2011
A long time ago "a friend" turned the relationship sour, not just with me but irreparably with a third party. They never spoke again and I, less damaged by their action, felt disappointed but moved on.
The reality behind this cryptic descriptor is thatthe friend was a trainee journalist. They used a story recounted between the three friends as a basis for a newspaper article. Anonimity was disregarded and the third person was named and placed in a very vulnerable situation.
After that journalists were never met with a degree of confidence and good will from my side. However in recent years the job I'm in now has me speaking with journalists on a regular basis, until recently I even shared an office with journalists. Indeed there is even one in my extended family, nice bloke he is too. He doesn't smell.
I'm sure that I am not alone in my mistrust of the journalist, often they come near the bottom of the most trusted professions list. Many of us are suspicous of their motives and approach. Paranoia you may say, not fair! A few bad apples, surely?
In the last few days we have an eruption of the "phone hacking" scandal that has been in and out of the UK news and law courts for several years. Each turn brings another twist as if the drains of some smelly sewer systems have had the cover removed and the stench has escaped.
Today in the UK Parliament we had some excellent contributions on the wrongs - there are no rights - of the affair and demands for closer scrutiny came from all sides.
The company behind the corrupt affair is one that we don't support in any way here in Castle Fegrig for a whole host of reasons that I won't bore you with here. It's unfortunate that innocent people have been hurt and become involved in this. We only hope that the whole house of cards collapses and takes those responsible down the stinky sewer where they belong.
@Great_Swim London reflections
As you will have seen I recently took part in the Great London Swim.
This being held under the Great Swim series banner and involved me and several thousand other rubber & lycra clad souls (or should that be soles?) splashing their way down a mile course.
Despite attempting a fair amount of water based sports over the years I've never been fully confident and assured in/on the wet stuff. If God had meant for us to be in the water he would have given we land based bipeds, gills.
It also until recently seemed strange to take so long to cover a mile distance when I could run the same length in a much shorter passing of the clock.
I arrived in reasonable time with wet suit, timer chip and swim cap. My particular cap being pink as this was my wave due to take the plunge at 10am.
The warning was there don't miss your start wave or that's it, a fate that had hit a preceding white wave swimmer who was being consoled by her family as I made my way to the start. Better not be late!
At the start I was checked in to make sure it was me and that my timer chip worked. Like a large group of performing seals my wave assembled in the start area. Some individuals, some in group but all with a common purpose.
Such is the camaraderie that asking a complete stranger to pull up your zip is met with a positive and blush free responses. Unless you have shoulders that can articulate in all planes asking for help to zip you into your suit is necessary.
The acclimatisation dip into the water was next. This ensured that all the dry nooks and crannies under your new skin became exposed to the wet feeling of the water. You stretch and exaggerate your movements like some large crab, to make sure the suit fits and grips without hindering your stroke and glide through the water.
A call to the shore thankfully without resorting to calling out your cap number brought the wave in for the obligatory warm up. I'm not sure if the leader of this activity was shouting with vigour or because our ears were covered with the obligatory swim cap.
The countdown and then the sploosh into the dark water. The front of the wave sped in like a pack of dogs desperate to catch that stick. This dog entered as if with psychological athritis, with care and trepidation.
It took about 3 to 4 hundred metres for me to get into my stride? The water in the east ends Victoria Dock was calm and this was very reassuring. My previous attempt in the Great Scottish Swim in 2009 was compromised by waves that had even the "old salts" altering their game plans.
So calm and not too cool, 18 degrees C.
On Saturday I found myself in a small group, last time out I felt like the old and sick amphibian unable to keep up with the rest of the school.
The yellow distance barriers on my left hand side were passed every 200 metres. The purple half way bouy conquered and still I was feeling good. Confidence was bouyant?
The turn left and then left again several hundred metres apart brought the final 1/4 mile into sight. It also brought into sight the next wave sploshing up the opening straight. A thought for a new sport crossed my mind " Aquatic Hounds & Hares"?
By now the yellow inflatable markers were 100 metres apart and with the wind behind me or was it adrenalin? The distance ticked down. I tried to concentrate on my feeble technique as the finishing funnel drew closer and closer.
I tried to use those in front of me in the water to mentally pull me along as I tried to catch them but all to soon it seemed the event was over. Not at all did it feel as long as my last equally long session in the pool. No turning every 20 metres helped no doubt.
I didn't feel as tired as I thought I would be. The reality though was different as I tried to find my land legs on the exit slope and failed. With a helping hand I was out of the water and drip drying like a nylon shirt.
My timing chip was removed and put in the bin. I collected my goodie bag. Walked through the shower area. Changed out of my wet suit.
The organisation and volunteers on the day were excellent and although this is not a free event to enter, the day would not take place without this logistical expertise. So a big thank you to them.
All of this with a smile on my face, mirroring the sense of pride, achievement and survival that washed through me.
I will never be a natural floaty creature but something's happened after the swim, as I'm now planning my next foray into the blue, but only faster.
See you there I'll be in the black wet suit!
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
@Great_Swim London reflections
As you will have seen I recently took part in the Great London Swim.
This being held under the Great Swim series banner and involved me and several thousand other rubber & lycra clad souls (or should that be soles?) splashing their way down a mile course.
Despite attempting a fair amount of water based sports over the years I've never been fully confident and assured in/on the wet stuff. If God had meant for us to be in the water he would have given we land based bipeds, gills.
It also until recently seemed strange to take so long to cover a mile distance when I could run the same length in a much shorter passing of the clock.
I arrived in reasonable time with wet suit, timer chip and swim cap. My particular cap being pink as this was my wave due to take the plunge at 10am.
The warning was there don't miss your start wave or that's it, a fate that had hit a preceding white wave swimmer who was being consoled by her family as I made my way to the start. Better not be late!
At the start I was checked in to make sure it was me and that my timer chip worked. Like a large group of performing seals my wave assembled in the start area. Some individuals, some in group but all with a common purpose.
Such is the camaraderie that asking a complete stranger to pull up your zip is met with a positive and blush free responses. Unless you have shoulders that can articulate in all planes asking for help to zip you into your suit is necessary.
The acclimatisation dip into the water was next. This ensured that all the dry nooks and crannies under your new skin became exposed to the wet feeling of the water. You stretch and exaggerate your movements like some large crab, to make sure the suit fits and grips without hindering your stroke and glide through the water.
A call to the shore thankfully without resorting to calling out your cap number brought the wave in for the obligatory warm up. I'm not sure if the leader of this activity was shouting with vigour or because our ears were covered with the obligatory swim cap.
The countdown and then the sploosh into the dark water. The front of the wave sped in like a pack of dogs desperate to catch that stick. This dog entered as if with psychological athritis, with care and trepidation.
It took about 3 to 4 hundred metres for me to get into my stride? The water in the east ends Victoria Dock was calm and this was very reassuring. My previous attempt in the Great Scottish Swim in 2009 was compromised by waves that had even the "old salts" altering their game plans.
So calm and not too cool, 18 degrees C.
On Saturday I found myself in a small group, last time out I felt like the old and sick amphibian unable to keep up with the rest of the school.
The yellow distance barriers on my left hand side were passed every 200 metres. The purple half way bouy conquered and still I was feeling good. Confidence was bouyant?
The turn left and then left again several hundred metres apart brought the final 1/4 mile into sight. It also brought into sight the next wave sploshing up the opening straight. A thought for a new sport crossed my mind " Aquatic Hounds & Hares"?
By now the yellow inflatable markers were 100 metres apart and with the wind behind me or was it adrenalin? The distance ticked down. I tried to concentrate on my feeble technique as the finishing funnel drew closer and closer.
I tried to use those in front of me in the water to mentally pull me along as I tried to catch them but all to soon it seemed the event was over. Not at all did it feel as long as my last equally long session in the pool. No turning every 20 metres helped no doubt.
I didn't feel as tired as I thought I would be. The reality though was different as I tried to find my land legs on the exit slope and failed. With a helping hand I was out of the water and drip drying like a nylon shirt.
My timing chip was removed and put in the bin. I collected my goodie bag. Walked through the shower area. Changed out of my wet suit.
The organisation and volunteers on the day were excellent and although this is not a free event to enter, the day would not take place without this logistical expertise. So a big thank you to them.
All of this with a smile on my face, mirroring the sense of pride, achievement and survival that washed through me.
I will never be a natural floaty creature but something's happened after the swim, as I'm now planning my next foray into the blue, but only faster.
See you there I'll be in the black wet suit!
Monday, 4 July 2011
Is that the time?
04/07/2011
Cripes!
Too much reading, time for bed.....
Oh and happy 4th July to the Colonials!
Cripes!
Too much reading, time for bed.....
Oh and happy 4th July to the Colonials!
Sunday, 3 July 2011
The next station is...
03/07/2011
The best place to stand on the tube is at the end of the carriage. This is especially the case when the temperature rises.
The draught rushes through as the train speeds along, not so good if there is a passenger odour problem though, this breeze then has added heft.
Sometimes to make the journey pass more quickly the commuters will indulge in some impromptu "put your right foot in, put your right foot out........"
When it's busy it's all hands to the rails. The British
sense of fair play and personal reserve would go into a tail spin if the train ever jolted and the masses not holding on crashed into their fellow passengers.
Have you heard sorry said simultaneously 100 times?
Having reached your station the masses trudge towards the sky
-- I'm out n about
The best place to stand on the tube is at the end of the carriage. This is especially the case when the temperature rises.
The draught rushes through as the train speeds along, not so good if there is a passenger odour problem though, this breeze then has added heft.
Sometimes to make the journey pass more quickly the commuters will indulge in some impromptu "put your right foot in, put your right foot out........"
When it's busy it's all hands to the rails. The British
sense of fair play and personal reserve would go into a tail spin if the train ever jolted and the masses not holding on crashed into their fellow passengers.
Have you heard sorry said simultaneously 100 times?
Having reached your station the masses trudge towards the sky
-- I'm out n about
Saturday, 2 July 2011
Great London Swim I
02/07/2011
Heading to the start made this earlier
http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=25894930&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=1&color=00adef&fullscreen=1&autoplay=0&loop=0
Also available on vimeo http://vimeo.com/25894930
I'm out and about
-- I'm out n about
Heading to the start made this earlier
http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=25894930&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=1&color=00adef&fullscreen=1&autoplay=0&loop=0
Also available on vimeo http://vimeo.com/25894930
I'm out and about
-- I'm out n about
Friday, 1 July 2011
Cup of tea please!
01/07/2011
So there I was having arrived early at the local Cineworld, unlimited card swiped, ticket in hand I decided a cup of tea was required.
With the "Big Swim" tomorrow, I need to make sure I'm hydrated. I find when I'm here that the London micro climate can be dehydrating. Tea required then and a large one at that.
I strolled up to the bar requested and paid for my tea and waited as the staff in unison prepared my beverage. Large mug was passed from A to B, followed by individually wrapped tea bag that followed the same journey.
The two minds are better than one approach then extended to the hot water from the modern day samovar and then the realisation that milk was required.
None in the machine!
Excess water was tipped from my mug this was then carefully wiped dry.
The tea team a bit embarrassed announced the no milk discovery, apologised and put out an SOS call for milk. Thankfully they don't have a code for it. You know the kind of thing -
" code 88, bar area, stat!"
It was more
"help we need milk"
The tea team apologised and promised a fresh brew if the milk took to long to arrive. Speculation ensued on wether they would have to run to the shops for my milk? Their customer service was such though that I'm sure they would have swam (I was in the docklands area) to the nearest milk purveyor to complete my order.
The milk duly arrived and the 2 litre carton brought directly to my cup,towing omers my order with the missing cooz juice.
The brew refreshed, the tea team returned to a debate on the workings of their coffee machine and as you would expect a conversation on movies, I don't think it was about tea though that would have been too weird!
-- I'm out n about
So there I was having arrived early at the local Cineworld, unlimited card swiped, ticket in hand I decided a cup of tea was required.
With the "Big Swim" tomorrow, I need to make sure I'm hydrated. I find when I'm here that the London micro climate can be dehydrating. Tea required then and a large one at that.
I strolled up to the bar requested and paid for my tea and waited as the staff in unison prepared my beverage. Large mug was passed from A to B, followed by individually wrapped tea bag that followed the same journey.
The two minds are better than one approach then extended to the hot water from the modern day samovar and then the realisation that milk was required.
None in the machine!
Excess water was tipped from my mug this was then carefully wiped dry.
The tea team a bit embarrassed announced the no milk discovery, apologised and put out an SOS call for milk. Thankfully they don't have a code for it. You know the kind of thing -
" code 88, bar area, stat!"
It was more
"help we need milk"
The tea team apologised and promised a fresh brew if the milk took to long to arrive. Speculation ensued on wether they would have to run to the shops for my milk? Their customer service was such though that I'm sure they would have swam (I was in the docklands area) to the nearest milk purveyor to complete my order.
The milk duly arrived and the 2 litre carton brought directly to my cup,towing omers my order with the missing cooz juice.
The brew refreshed, the tea team returned to a debate on the workings of their coffee machine and as you would expect a conversation on movies, I don't think it was about tea though that would have been too weird!
-- I'm out n about
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