An actual Hunger Games wedding cake - not featured in the film. |
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Slightly peckish games
A brief history of French cinema
John & Ali happy at the cinema and in our best clothes and new blue contacts. |
Friday, April 06, 2012
Best Marigold Odeon
Today is a day off day, yesterday was a half day off day. We celebrated yesterday with the black pudding affair and various pieces of Fife based explorations - the ideas just don't stop. The recurring theme however was one of dreams, planning and living out the rest of (your) life as positively as possible. The long day ended with us making a rare visit to the cinema for a late night showing of the Best Marigold Hotel. With a cast of luvvies all acting like real people acting like actors it was an amusing diversion, it also confirmed a long held belief that despite the colour, noise and spectacle a visit to India isn't really necessary at the moment. The best bit was sitting there amongst the actual (smallish) cinema audience, not soul under 50, all looking a bit like the one or other of the characters in the film and crammed in a line in the non-Premier seating area, oldies always want to get good value for their cash. As the show ended and we all crippled and shuffled out, blinking into the midnight street lights it was like the film had, for a brief moment come to life. We giggled all the way back to the err...Volvo.
Thursday, April 05, 2012
Stornoway Black Microdot (large)
"So it's like Easter nearly man you know and we like went out for the day to two or maybe three garden centres man to hang out with all those old hippies and folks who dig gardens and stuff and we really liked everything we saw man and hey we spent some money and got some cool stuff man and then when we got back home like we found we had two of these here far out Stornoway Black Puddings, way to shop man!"
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
Steal like an Artist
More about steal like an artist here |
Snowy white hills sing away in the distance
Troubled weather map pours out across this central belt
Sun makes an occasional passing manoeuvre
Teases and reminds it’s supposed to be April
And I wonder and tense up at the thought of what the cold wind will feel like
As if I didn’t know
I know
I have a million words inside me, some picked out by pen or pencil,
Some spoken and carried away, some typed up or texted
Blogged and parked up in website oblivion
But
Most are stuck stubbornly inside my head like lazy pupils
Unaccustomed to work or study, happy to relax, feral children of mine
Hard to get at, to understand, they show no apparent desire to escape
So
I look out at those hills, far away with their coverings, dog walkers and ramblers
Keep my thoughts to myself, reluctantly, safe and personal
Maybe turn them into a shopping list:
Grated cheese
Mushrooms
Stornoway Black Pudding
Bacon
Soap
Cider or something
Morning rolls
Easter eggs for the bairns
On a yellow sticky, where that poem should be.
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
Back from Spring
South Bank, London, last weekend: A premonition. |
Monday, April 02, 2012
John Barrow-wheel
It's new, it's red, it's solid so it won't collapse under a half ton of slabs, chips or compost. The great garden tool that is the B&Q barrow has now been refurbished and revamped and is ready to go for summer. The old pneumatic tyre is flat and in the bin and this rigid sustainable model has been fully tested and installed. Also ready for those back breaking, speedy and dangerous trips around the garden with the grand kids on board. That's really why I fixed it of course.
Sunday, April 01, 2012
Return of the floating head
Nightcap - large White Russian. |
New stadium at Stratford, a fun and strangely emotional experience as well as a family triumph, Emma passing Sally Gunnel and numerous other famous athletes as the race progressed. |
The London Eye, scene of my most recent "floating head" encounter. |
Thursday, March 29, 2012
People are stupid
The future of modern motoring. |
The Guardian's front page: As petrol pumps run dry the blame game begins http://yfrog.com/joxlyyj
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Panic in the streets of Abercorn
This government's speciality is the release of the monumental lie coupled with the media smokescreen moment followed by a fiery attack of the socially dysfunctional dragon of "unfairness" (or worse, attempted cornball "fairness"). As we all amble down Gasoline's potentially empty alley one more time this blog post sums it all up quite nicely.
Meanwhile I'm out in the garden planting broccoli and lettuce so that when the great salad and vegetable shortage is announced in June we'll not only survive with a healthy diet but will make a handsome profit selling good wholesome greens to the poor souls without gardens, disposable incomes or who are too lazy to dig...that's just what the Francis Maude's and David Cameron's of the world would want us to do.
I've taken advantage of the warmish weather and been out in the garden building a second trampoline and also dismantling the first one, it had been found wanting. The whole thing was a profound exercise in the art of swearing and cursing both internally and externally, I managed to shave some skin from my knuckles and thumbs for good measure and sweat just a bit more than usual. Thankfully my youngest son was around to assist and provide a stalwart support during operations as well as keeping me right by actually following the instructions. Of course now it's all over and we can relax; the old one's been recycled and turned into a Skoda and the new one sits, pristine, green and ready for the playful bouncing attack of generations to come while the summer BBQ smolders wistfully in the distance, I won't be lighting it with any precious petrol either.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Bourbon Street
Just outside of somewhere else, across from the other place and adjacent to that other part of the neighbourhood; you know the one. Checking and verification is possible via Google, snuggle, peskyhusky.co. and various other unsolicited sources. Crunchy, best served with sweet China tea.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Enthusiastic but incapacitated
Canal bridge with added people. |
One of those found items you find when out and about. |
Barge headed under bridge. |
Ali & our bikes on the towpath. |
Then it was to the garden centre for some back breaking gardening stuff, plants, compost and the like. We also visited a local farm shop where a Cairngorm beer and Strawberry cider sales pitch was underway, a fatal error was thereby made and various beers and ciders tested and duly purchased. Next it was Daffodil Tea Time at Abercorn Church, we behaved ourselves very well, bought the tea and the daffs and then moved on to...hit the nearby canal via bicycle, as you do.
The canal trip involved bikes, beer, wine and sunshine. I also discovered that the air-con in my car actually works (quite disconcerting), turns out it's been the hottest March day since February as well. An Easy Riding paradise along the canal banks unfolded and so we ended up here, where we relaxed in the sunny beer garden watching at least one canal boat and numerous colourfully dressed cyclists, yummy mums, social workers, Subarus, Game of Thrones extras and ner'do wells go by. The return journey passed a lot quicker than I expected and confirmed a travel theory of mine about going there and back again; it seldom is as far as you actually think. Then it was home sweet home and a little more of the dark dark bitter bitter Cairngorm beer and pork chops, mmm.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
End of some kind of era
I've just sold my very old and very faithful Ford Cougar after four years and 80000 miles (total 138147), gone in 60 seconds via Gumtree on a very misty, moisty March evening. It just vanished into the mist as I clutched a warm mobile phone and a fat wad of Scottish notes. So I've got the cash and a Volvo S40 to run about with no proper complaints but I'll miss that big, clumsy, shockingly quick (and wet) pussycat.
In the afternoon I turned out to see how the mighty Pars would fair under the new Jim Jefferies management regime. Not an easy match against a stubborn and dirty St Mirren but we got the point, they got the needle. There's enough games left for a fix but it's going to be tight. Let's hope Jim really does hate Hibs enough.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Not rocket science
Out of use |
In use |
Thursday, March 22, 2012
SQ: Great architectural blunders
A stones throw from some lovely 17th Century Scottish organic buildings and round the corner from the historic town centre we have this feckin' disaster. OK we need affordable housing but... |
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Dollytown (Twinned with Bedrock)
I was thinking about the former Rosyh housing estate known as Dollytown. It was an odd, spacious and very green place, I never lived there but had lots of childhood friends there. The long primary school summers were spent playing football, hide and seek and cycling around the grassy play areas and wide and safe streets. Then in the early seventies it was flattened and replaced with bog standard and uninspired Scottish council houses. Looking back a huge opportunity was missed, nearly forty years later there is now nothing remarkable about this part of Rosyth and the unique feel of the prefabs and open spaces of Dollytown are long gone. But just imagine...
Taking the new Mini as a type of design example it could've been that Dollytown, once demolished might have been replaced with a newer version of itself, Dollytown on steroids. Wider, bigger houses, still all on one level, chunky windows and doors and trees and space and the design theme, however accidental of the original houses maintained. Awards would have been won, property would have been in demand and visitors and the media would have loved it. It could have been a model village and an inspiration, you can do things better, even on public sector budgets and best of all once completed it could have been twinned with the hometown of the Flintstones, Bedrock.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
If Tuesday was Monday
A tiny corner of a tiny corner of West Lothian. |
Monday, March 19, 2012
If only Monday was Tuesday
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Springs and rings
Springs: Following a rigorous health and safety audit and technical inspection our faithful trampoline was found to be wanting in a number of departments. A prohibition notice was duly issued and all jumping, frolicking and laughter ceased, who are we to argue against the mighty power of the H&S Gods? Luckily a benefactor and sponsor has stepped in so saving and preserving our families valiant efforts to get fit for the soon to be everywhere on the telly Olympic and Commonwealth Games. Planning permission has been sought and approved and work should be started on a new trampoline once the final project plan is completed and mind-mapped. This morning the old and offending Trampy was taken down by a team of sub-contracted expert midgets who had just finished a really tough shift on the Forth Bridge. Most friction free parts will of course be recycled as part of the Edinburgh Trampoline and Panda Mating Survival Initiative (Pandamating should really be one word) and so will live on in perpetuity. The photo shows a bucket of recovered springs, all in great nick and ready to bounce again one fine day.
Rings: In an unrelated incident I managed to drop my wedding ring into a giant brown bin of last years leaves, Doh! A lengthy bin search followed which was dirty but pleasantly successful. A valuable lesson in life has now been learned.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Hot rice v hot rats
A hazy view of the magic rice potion. |
Salad and novels v stimulants. |
Rice & retirement & rats: As the great
grey mist descends I make plans for the future, some are based around
a massive lottery win, some based around magnificent and well
deserved business success and some based around nothing in particular
other than acting on some kind of stupid impulse, sadly this one is
the most likely. What exactly springs to mind?
a) I did think that I should not retire
until the very day the Queen of England and whatever else is left
comes to a newly annexed and struggling Scotland to open the
completed Forth Crossing. Then as a last act of working defiance I'll
cross over and back and so end my illustrious career.
b) I could also work beyond that date
until I can comfortably afford to buy and run a 10 year old Maserati
Quattroporte for at least a year, in a romantic swan song gesture to
life in the fast lane, the middle lane, occasionally the slow lane
and some rough tracks with passing places.
c) I may decide that I should count down
in haircuts, a dozen maybe. I'll stick it out for dozen haircuts,
nine normal and three Turkish, all equally spaced apart, perhaps each
one in a different barbers based around a simple spread sheet and
rating system. Establishing what the timeline might be would perhaps
be hard.
d) Another option would be to go just
whenever and take up the full and fulfilling career of a barista, a
word I've only just learned this week. I could be like Tom Cruise in
Cocktail, throwing hot steamy Starbucks milk from cup to cup, turning
the innocent cafe atmosphere into Hell itself with belching vapours
and hissing sliver pipes of fiery liquid that torture the crushed
beans into releasing their bitter flavour. Then calling customers by
made up and abusive names and coining great wads in tips revenue by
continually giving out the wrong change and overcharging for the
inedible biscuits and muffins. Nice.
e) Pig and chicken farming; whatever the
economic climate people will eat bacon and eggs and all the
variations that follow, that even includes quiche. All you need are a
decent pair of gloves and wellies and no sense of smell whatsoever.
f) There's also scope for a blindingly
good career in squirrel extermination, particularly in Fife, where
thanks to the efforts grumpy Queen Victoria and grumpy Andrew
Carnegie the grey squirrel pox has not passed from grey to red; but
it will one day. The only way to avoid a future catastrophe for the
reds is to mobilise and lead the people of Fife in a massive exercise
of ethnic cleansing against the dirty greys and so save the reds from
the poxy pox. I understand that the River Tay Beavers may also wish
to participate in the cull, of course there is a huge market for
squirrel meat and fur in London's fast food and fashion industry.
g) Last but not least, walk away, buy a
castle and pull up the drawbridge on creditors, bloggers, buskers and
bureaucrats.
Drawing a line under all that...
Heat is remarkable, I'm particularly
intrigued by the way it changes the state of things. Take for example
rice pudding, that so often misunderstood and these days unpopular
pudding. Cold it's the kind of thing you would only eat in a real
emergency such as a shipwreck, a long running nuclear winter or an
elongated Scottish power cut. So if it's nice and hot, if prepared
properly it can be a real treat. Anyway I was anxious to try a new
and revolutionary product that's been launched on the market, made up
and created by the good people of Carnation (a subsidiary and trading
name, proudly owned and operated by the giant food conglomerate
Nestle who are still using the cuckoo based Bird's Custard motif ),
Hot Rice Pudding Mix.
I did try to follow the simple
instructions but was immediately put off by some key, consumer
unfriendly words and phrases; whisk, oven gloves, 261 ml, caution may
be hot and allow to stand for 5 minutes, to name but a few. All in
all the rice manufacturing process takes about fifteen minutes and
due to the mess created took a further twenty minutes to clean up;
there is also the risk of an unplanned microwave explosives event
that they don't mention in the small print. I persevered and
eventuality got to the point where the unpleasant and gooey material
was close to being edible. It turned out that it wasn't that close
unfortunately, not hot, creamy or tasty or anything good. A lot of
heat and effort wasted in a gunky, crunchy mess that leaves a weird
aftertaste. Heat is remarkable and will remain so, Carnation Rice Mix
is not.
Rats: Nothing to do with anything or pesky squirrels.
Rats: Nothing to do with anything or pesky squirrels.
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