I don't think I need say any more about that.
Wednesday 16 July 2014
Tuesday 15 July 2014
Fact of the Day - The Human Brain looks like Cod's Roe...
Although I remember liking it, I haven't eaten it since I was about eight I have to say. I can still remember the texture - sort of like under-cooked cous cous or polenta. As a child, I wouldn't have been aware of what I was eating. The cod's roe would have been simply cod's roe. It wouldn't have been fish ovaries. The thought of it makes me heave these days, despite my belief that if you're going to eat animals and fish you should really do them the courtesy of a) killing them decently and b) eating the entire creature. But I'm sure it's very healthy and it does look awfully like a brain.
Sunday 13 July 2014
Still Reading...Michael Palin's 'Diaries'
Still reading Michael Palin's Diaries and although they're a little 'pedestrian' in parts, I've grown accustomed to his voice and I'm going to really miss them when I get to the end. So, I think I'm going to have to buy the next volume, which I've already spotted on sale on Amazon for 1p or thereabouts.
It's quite odd reading his account of his life, because it seems so normal (the trips to Barbados and the jetting back and for'ard to New York and the multitude of showbiz pals and encounters aside). Emotionally balanced, I think is what I'm 'groping for'. When I think of the sketches he was in (Blackmail, The Spanish Inquisition, for example) he seemed completely off the wall, but in 'real life' he must be totally different - very grounded and quite reserved I think. Nothing much seems to 'throw' him, or at least that's the impression I have.
It's interesting to read about his writing routine - he worked very very hard at it, to an extent that surprised me. Mind you, it was his living and had been since leaving Oxford. So he had the motivation and the time, and possibly most importantly, he had the contacts. To paraphrase - 'he had three things - motivation, time, and contacts. And success...he had FOUR things, time, motivation, contacts, and success...and a conducive environment...FIVE things....' and so on and so forth. Not to mention a vast amount of talent. 'SIX things....' And energy. 'SEVEN...'
Nevertheless, he was incredibly productive. One thing in particular that made me take note was his attempt (successful) at novel-writing. 'I'm going to set myself a target of 1,000 words a day, and I'm going to get the whole thing done in three months.' And he did.
I can easily bang out 1,000 words in a day - whether they're any good or not is another question. My main problem is not the word target but the plot - I have not got one. I'm a rambler. But, nothing ventured, and I think I might try the thousand words a day thing and see where it takes me. That's on top of any posts I produce here on the blog.
It's quite odd reading his account of his life, because it seems so normal (the trips to Barbados and the jetting back and for'ard to New York and the multitude of showbiz pals and encounters aside). Emotionally balanced, I think is what I'm 'groping for'. When I think of the sketches he was in (Blackmail, The Spanish Inquisition, for example) he seemed completely off the wall, but in 'real life' he must be totally different - very grounded and quite reserved I think. Nothing much seems to 'throw' him, or at least that's the impression I have.
It's interesting to read about his writing routine - he worked very very hard at it, to an extent that surprised me. Mind you, it was his living and had been since leaving Oxford. So he had the motivation and the time, and possibly most importantly, he had the contacts. To paraphrase - 'he had three things - motivation, time, and contacts. And success...he had FOUR things, time, motivation, contacts, and success...and a conducive environment...FIVE things....' and so on and so forth. Not to mention a vast amount of talent. 'SIX things....' And energy. 'SEVEN...'
Nevertheless, he was incredibly productive. One thing in particular that made me take note was his attempt (successful) at novel-writing. 'I'm going to set myself a target of 1,000 words a day, and I'm going to get the whole thing done in three months.' And he did.
I can easily bang out 1,000 words in a day - whether they're any good or not is another question. My main problem is not the word target but the plot - I have not got one. I'm a rambler. But, nothing ventured, and I think I might try the thousand words a day thing and see where it takes me. That's on top of any posts I produce here on the blog.
Saturday 12 July 2014
Whinge of the Week - Sudoku
Geoffrey's in a Right State.
'It's the Whingers Anonymous club meeting tonite and I've no idea what to say.'
'Don't say anything then. Just sit in a corner eating crisps and say you're having an off nite.'
'It doesn't work like that Tuppy. They're all top-notch intellectual thugs and they'll all turn on me using the combined force of their lethal brain-power unless I come up with a whinge that meets their rigorous standards. And as if that wasn't bad enough, even if you DO think of a whinge, if it's not a popular one with the others you get publicly de-badged. I like my badge Tuppy! I don't want to get de-badged. Especially not publicly.'
'How horrible. I wouldn't go at all then. Just stay at home with me and we'll sit and stare into the fire and eat sausages and drink Madeira until we go unconscious.'
'No Tuppy. After twenty years of it I'm bored doing that. I need some mental stimulation and I'm sure Whingers Anonymous is the very thing. I need to stretch my brain.'
'Suit yourself.' I yawned and tapped my the embers of my pipe into the fire, and contemplated another bacon sandwich. 'I find doing a Sudoku or trying to work out the number of Rice Krispies in a family-sized pack does the trick in the brain-stretching department, but each to their own.'
I was lying about the Rice Krispies, of course. And about the Sudoku. Surely Sudoku is one of the most mind-crunchingly dull inventions ever.....what kind of MANIAC would think up a so-called 'game' that involves adding up numbers in a square until your eyes fall out? And why is it so popular? And why has Carol Vorderman made even-more-money-than-she's-already-got for herself by writing a book about it - and what kind of losers actually BUY it FFS....
'Geoffrey, I think I might have inadvertently come up with a wh - ....'
But he was still rattling on, pacing the floor and clutching his head. ' It's not all stick though Tuppy,' he raved, 'There's a prize for Whinge of the Week. Last week it was a hamper. I want to win the hamper Tuppy. It would give me a real sense of achievement and that. I've no idea what to whinge about Tuppy. I'm perfectly contented. I don't know what to say and I'm afraid they'll all laugh at my confusion and embarrassed silence and then do the de-badging thing.'
'Why on earth are you even going then?'
'For the company Tuppy. I'm lonely.'
'You've got me, and the neighbours, and the Tupfinder General on the odd occasion. I'd have thought that was enough.'
'It isn't enough Tuppy. I want to spread my wings and learn new things. Meet new people. Maybe even...well...meet someone special...'
That was it. I stood up briskly and brushed the crumbs off my tartan knee rug (it's one of my five eating days today).
'I'm making another bacon sandwich and then I'm fetching the big syringe Geoffrey. No, no,' I held up my hand,' I'm afraid you've lost the plot altogether and you'll have to be strapped down and sedated until you see sense. Or at least until I've finished reading the paper.'
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Kate-Smart/e/B008MFK3NE/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Interesting piece from the Guardian about an encounter with Graham Chapman - my favourite 'Python'. http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2014/jul/01/graham-chapman-monty-python-star-and-me
Tuesday 8 July 2014
Diet Food of the Day - Keesh
I was featured in the local newsletter 'The Enterprise' this week as part of their 'health and fitness' promotion. It wasn't a good thing. Mainly because there was a photograph of me looking rotund, captioned 'How NOT to do it - One Sheep's Weight-loss Hell'.
I don't think that you'll be surprised to learn that 'The Enterprise'' is one of enterprising couple Dave and Val Nark's latest enterprises. Or that its vile and clumsy motto is 'Boldly to Go Where No-one Has Gone Before - or at least, Not for a While.'
Val came round to ours far too early this morning with a copy hot off their bio-fuel-powered printer. More of where precisely the bio-fuel comes from, later.
'There you go Tuppy! I know we've had our differences in the past but Dave and I are nothing if not emotionally-generous and so we've put you right there on the front page! I'm sure Geoffrey will be so proud.'
'Yes that's right - thank you V - ' began Geoffrey, before I kicked him smartly behind the knee. 'Ow!'
'Well I'll be off then! Time waits for no-one and I've a pilates class at ten and I need to be on the door before they arrive so I can get the money up front. Not to mention I also have yurts to fill, goats to milk, and a post-office to run. Do stop by the post office for a lo-cal goji-berry flapjack - I've got some stale ones on special.'
And off she whisked, power-walking back up the hill to what used to be the bare and empty tourist car-park, and which is now a sprawling mass of eco-yurts, the largest and pointiest of which has been converted into a post-office-cum-eco-minimart.
'Why am I not losing weight Geoffrey? I've had keesh for tea for the past five days,' I said, as I flung 'The Enterprise' into the fire and watched my own face staring back at me before it vanished forever into ash.
'I don't know Tuppy. Keesh is supposed to be healthy. Everyone eats it when they're on a diet. You've also had salad with everything, as well, so what with that and the keesh you should be really slim by now. It's a mystery Tuppy. I hate to say, but you might have to consult Dr Wilson. You could have a glandular problem.'
more later.
I don't think that you'll be surprised to learn that 'The Enterprise'' is one of enterprising couple Dave and Val Nark's latest enterprises. Or that its vile and clumsy motto is 'Boldly to Go Where No-one Has Gone Before - or at least, Not for a While.'
Val came round to ours far too early this morning with a copy hot off their bio-fuel-powered printer. More of where precisely the bio-fuel comes from, later.
'There you go Tuppy! I know we've had our differences in the past but Dave and I are nothing if not emotionally-generous and so we've put you right there on the front page! I'm sure Geoffrey will be so proud.'
'Yes that's right - thank you V - ' began Geoffrey, before I kicked him smartly behind the knee. 'Ow!'
'Well I'll be off then! Time waits for no-one and I've a pilates class at ten and I need to be on the door before they arrive so I can get the money up front. Not to mention I also have yurts to fill, goats to milk, and a post-office to run. Do stop by the post office for a lo-cal goji-berry flapjack - I've got some stale ones on special.'
And off she whisked, power-walking back up the hill to what used to be the bare and empty tourist car-park, and which is now a sprawling mass of eco-yurts, the largest and pointiest of which has been converted into a post-office-cum-eco-minimart.
'Why am I not losing weight Geoffrey? I've had keesh for tea for the past five days,' I said, as I flung 'The Enterprise' into the fire and watched my own face staring back at me before it vanished forever into ash.
'I don't know Tuppy. Keesh is supposed to be healthy. Everyone eats it when they're on a diet. You've also had salad with everything, as well, so what with that and the keesh you should be really slim by now. It's a mystery Tuppy. I hate to say, but you might have to consult Dr Wilson. You could have a glandular problem.'
more later.
Monday 7 July 2014
The Whingers Anonymous Club, Badges, & Gel Inserts
'I've got a new badge,' crowed Geoffrey as he flew through the hole in the kitchen wall and landed on his usual perch on the end of the mantlepiece.
'Really,' I replied, staring out of the window in my usual morose manner, while puffing on my electronic pipe and adjusting my belt inwards - yes, INwards - by yet another notch.
'Don't you want to see?' he badgered.
'No.'
'Why not? It's lovely and shiny.'
'Oh do shut up. I'm not interested in seeing anything shiny if it isn't baccy or food.'
'I know you'll like it. It's just up your alley,' he continued doggedly, 'You'll never guess what it's for - you're completely foxed, aren't you?'
'No, I'm not foxed as you put it. I'm never foxed. I don't DO foxed,' I said standing up, and flexing my plantar, 'Cattiness isn't in my nature as a general rule, but I've had more than enough of the animal verbs and adverbs. Crowing, badgering, doing things doggedly, being completely and utterly foxed and so forth. And before you say it - I'm not horsing around. No more am I cowering in a corner, feeling cowed and looking cow-eyed. Besides, I know precisely what that badge is for because I saw the notice pinned up outside the post office last Monday when I went to collect my gel inserts.'
'What notice?'
'The one about the new Whingers Anonymous Club that meets in the church hall on Tuesday evenings at 7. It's like the Hellfire Club except there's no dirtiness, there's tea instead of port, and it's open only to whingeing old domino-playing half-wits like your good self.'
'What gel inserts?'
'The ones I got off Ebay for my plantar fasciitis. Which, might I add, is giving me absolute gyp this afternoon. Not that you'd care, with your shiny new badge and your new friends at the Whingers Anonymous club and all.'
Geoffrey looked crestfallen, and I immediately felt alarmed. If I didn't apologise pretty swiftly there would be no chance of his making the tea. 'I'm sorry. I'm just hacked off is all, Geoffrey. My feet hurt despite my new gel inserts, I hate my new-fangled electronic pipe and I hate being on this five two diet.'
'It was your own idea to go on a so-called health kick.'
'No it wasn't.'
'It was!'
'WASN'T! And stop looking crestfallen. You're making me feel even worse. Here am I with an electronic pipe, starving myself for five days and eating rabbit-food on the other two....'
'I'm not crestfallen. I'm cowed. And by the way Tuppy - I haven't liked to mention it before, because you've been in such a toweringly bad mood - but you're doing the five two diet the wrong way round. You're supposed to eat for five days solidly, then starve for two. You've been doing it wrong. No wonder you're feeling a touch out of sorts.'
I sighed heavily. Or as heavily as I could manage, given that I was losing more and more of my 'body weight' by the second. 'I'm such an ass. Have we any sausages?' I asked sheepishly.
'We always have sausages.'
'Good. Now pass me the opium.'
Next up - Geoffrey stabs himself in the face with the un-safety pin at the back of his badge.
'Really,' I replied, staring out of the window in my usual morose manner, while puffing on my electronic pipe and adjusting my belt inwards - yes, INwards - by yet another notch.
'Don't you want to see?' he badgered.
'No.'
'Why not? It's lovely and shiny.'
'Oh do shut up. I'm not interested in seeing anything shiny if it isn't baccy or food.'
'I know you'll like it. It's just up your alley,' he continued doggedly, 'You'll never guess what it's for - you're completely foxed, aren't you?'
'No, I'm not foxed as you put it. I'm never foxed. I don't DO foxed,' I said standing up, and flexing my plantar, 'Cattiness isn't in my nature as a general rule, but I've had more than enough of the animal verbs and adverbs. Crowing, badgering, doing things doggedly, being completely and utterly foxed and so forth. And before you say it - I'm not horsing around. No more am I cowering in a corner, feeling cowed and looking cow-eyed. Besides, I know precisely what that badge is for because I saw the notice pinned up outside the post office last Monday when I went to collect my gel inserts.'
'What notice?'
'The one about the new Whingers Anonymous Club that meets in the church hall on Tuesday evenings at 7. It's like the Hellfire Club except there's no dirtiness, there's tea instead of port, and it's open only to whingeing old domino-playing half-wits like your good self.'
'What gel inserts?'
'The ones I got off Ebay for my plantar fasciitis. Which, might I add, is giving me absolute gyp this afternoon. Not that you'd care, with your shiny new badge and your new friends at the Whingers Anonymous club and all.'
Geoffrey looked crestfallen, and I immediately felt alarmed. If I didn't apologise pretty swiftly there would be no chance of his making the tea. 'I'm sorry. I'm just hacked off is all, Geoffrey. My feet hurt despite my new gel inserts, I hate my new-fangled electronic pipe and I hate being on this five two diet.'
'It was your own idea to go on a so-called health kick.'
'No it wasn't.'
'It was!'
'WASN'T! And stop looking crestfallen. You're making me feel even worse. Here am I with an electronic pipe, starving myself for five days and eating rabbit-food on the other two....'
'I'm not crestfallen. I'm cowed. And by the way Tuppy - I haven't liked to mention it before, because you've been in such a toweringly bad mood - but you're doing the five two diet the wrong way round. You're supposed to eat for five days solidly, then starve for two. You've been doing it wrong. No wonder you're feeling a touch out of sorts.'
I sighed heavily. Or as heavily as I could manage, given that I was losing more and more of my 'body weight' by the second. 'I'm such an ass. Have we any sausages?' I asked sheepishly.
'We always have sausages.'
'Good. Now pass me the opium.'
Next up - Geoffrey stabs himself in the face with the un-safety pin at the back of his badge.
Saturday 5 July 2014
Wednesday 25 June 2014
Monday 23 June 2014
Wednesday 11 June 2014
She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways by William Wordsworth : The Poetry Foundation
She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways by William Wordsworth : The Poetry Foundation
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
—Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat by Edward Lear : The Poetry Foundation
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat by Edward Lear : The Poetry Foundation
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
Saturday 7 June 2014
FLEETWOOD MAC - Oh Well (1969 UK TV Performance) ~ HIGH QUALITY HQ ~
I've blogged this clip a dozen times and I'm doing it again because it's great - the BBC4 subtitles aside. I loathe music programmes on BBC4. The ones about the 70s anyway. They're depressing as hell. There's something about watching it on the telly....years later.....it just feels wrong.
Peter Green. Marvellous.
Nukkel kraking
I'm expecting to have plenty spare time this week though, and am flexing my fingers and cracking my writing nukkels, ready for action, so stand by, if you can be bothered.
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