If you get the chance you should try to get too.......oh and an unexpected visitor!

This is probably a bit of a long shot, but if you are up in either Newcastle or Gateshead there are currently two fantastic exhibitions at the Baltic Mill art gallery on the banks of the Tyne. 

A friend and I headed up to visit on Friday for the weekend, and no visit to Newcastle is complete without a visit to the Baltic Mill, so Saturday morning ish was the time decided upon.  

Just getting there is an adventure! From the city centre there is a long wander down to the quayside, well it is a long way down, and from there across the Millennium Bridge, a spectacular piece of architecture that spans the Tyne and ends just outside the Baltic.

At the moment the artists being displayed are Anselm Kiefer, Dan Holdsworth and Dirk Bell. Whilst I am not a hugely artistic person and I am a proper Yorkshireman......I know what I like (and I like what I bloody say!).  Dirk Bell is a German, who I have to say I had no idea what his art was trying to identify or symbolise, although Anselm Kiefer, a fellow German's pieces were really spectacular. I will not try and tell anyone what to enjoy or what the pictures were representing to me, but for me I really loved his pieces "Urd Werdande Skuld (The Norns) 1983",  "Man under a Pyramid 1996" and "Lilith 1987-9".

Not the Baltic but rather the Sage, but just loved the photograph.

The other artist whose work was fantastic is Dan Holdsworth's "Blackout" Collection, in which he displays slow processed photographs of glaciers, providing fantastic images of almost extra-terrestrial intensity. The Baltic is such that you can spend a couple of hours wandering around without melting your brain, but which can be real food for the soul.

I would also like to tell you about my surprise visitor........we were staying at a friend's house in Jesmond. After a night out on the quayside......a real experience! and several drinks in a bar that I was advised was owned by "Ant n Dec" we headed back to the house, to find a cat on the doorstep.Well at 3 a.m. with no-one around to let him in next door, he let himself into the communal hallway. Thinking nothing more of it, we got into the flat, headed to our rooms. This was until about 4 a.m. when this arrived on my chest....well the photograph was taken in the morning, but he was a very bonnie laddie, who ended up needling my chest all night ( I really couldn't be ar*ed to get up and let him out!)

Cabin Fever!

I apologise again as the posts recently have not been as prolific as previously, and there is no justifiable reason, but I realised that there is only so much that you could say about the snow.

To anyone who doesn't live in the UK, I apologise, but snow here is usually a pretty huge thing (well to be honest talking about the weather is a national past-time, along with queuing......and despite the fact that we usually have weeks of notice the whole country seems to come to stop. It's amazing to see supermarket shelves empty as though the end of the world was approaching, how trains and buses freeze up, and apparently no effort is made to clear any of the snow around from the roads or pavements.

This was particularly true this last week with a dump of several inches of snow on Tuesday.....and some more on Wednesday....oh and some more throughout the rest of the week. Having bravely made it across to Manchester on Tuesday I was advised by my boss that it may be better to work from home on Wednesday (I have to say it not the type of advice that I usually need twice.....any excuse not to get up at 5:00am to commute to work is always welcomed!) But as the snow continued to fall it became impossible to travel across to work on Thursday or Friday (including the office Christmas party which was to be the crowning point of the year so far!). This has meant that i have had to look for any excuse to get out of the house, even if it was only for an hour no matter whether snow was avalanching from the roof tops, just to avoid the inevitable cabin fever.......it got to the point that by about 3:30 on most afternoons that even the dog was bored of listening to my conversation.

Trips out became a life saver......a walk down to a fantastic coffee shop for a latte (oh and to check out the crimbo lights on Newland Avenue), a trip to pick up a pint of milk, and can I also introduce you to Si the Skiing Snowman (yeah my Sister and I decided to regress......just a little bit, and to make a snowman)

Sadly (well maybe) the snow seems to be, if not thawing, then certainly not falling anymore, so it's back to work tomorrow. Am I upset? Not as much as I thought I would be!  

School re-union!

This weekend sees the annual old school re-union, well a dinner in the main hall with drinks and a talk from the Headmaster, typically a pat on the back to tell us old pupils that our legacy is being maintained (I have to say that my mates legacy seems to have been climbing the trees in the grounds, tormenting the Prefects and dinner ladies, running riot through the common room, smoking in the cemetery on Spring Bank, or sneaking across the road to the Old Zoological for a few pints at lunchtime! - I hope that this legacy is truly being upheld!) [although I accept that it is unlikely to be the subject of the Headmaster's speech]

I must admit that I haven't been for about 6 years.....it seemed to be a good way of catching up with friends whilst at University and after we had gone our own ways, but it was usually held on a Friday night and when you are away it can be difficult to get back in time.

Living up to the legacy we would typically meet up in the Old Zoological, our local, and have a few pints to reminisce before crossing the road to the bar that was typically set up in the Memorial Hall (where many hours were fruitless spent playing the demonstration tunes on electric keyboards) a few more drinks, before being lead through to the main hall, with lots of long tables, and a wine supplier. There was always a pot going round on the duration of the speeches, with the winnings typically being spent on more wine.

After the speeches it was typical for us to wander into Hull City Centre to attend a nightclub or two. I should point out at this stage that the event is Black-tie, and on occasions it has been known for me to attend wearing a kilt......(this always seemed such a good idea at the start of the night, although by the time you are walking into a club in a kilt on a Friday night in the centre of Hull, you are guaranteed an lively night!) For those who do not know Hull, or who have only arrived recently will never have known the joy of Lexington Avenues, or "LAs" as it was known.

This was a fantastically dodgy nightclub, where you would see things that you did not even believe to be possible, but which was cheap and cheesy (and didn't mind a group of about 40 people in evening dress turning up at about 12:30 on a Saturday morning to dance the remainder of the night away!)

Unfortunately this has since been demolished, taking a great slice of my history with it.......and this has left me somewhat more anxious about Saturday night.....this and the somewhat distressing fact that when I bought my ticket they asked me when I left. Telling them I left for University in 1995 made me realise that in a few years, the freshers that tend to race past me in fancy dress to various pubs, will not even have been born when I left to go (where is my life going so quickly, and why do I still think I am 12?)

I can almost hear the sleigh bells.....

Not only are the lights up around town (both Hull and Manchester) and the Christmas Market is in full swing in Manchester.......but now it is also snowing!

I realise that reading back through some of the past blogs it does seem that I am a little bit like a kiddie on Christmas Eve (Boy wanty pressie! Where Santy Clause? Want pressies now!) but it's not so much Christmas itself (although I do love Christmas) but rather the whole season of winter.

Walking to the station in the morning there is nothing quite like seeing your breath in the air and that almost painful first few breaths, almost burning the lungs.....and I love snow. I think it is a further regression to childhood.

When we were a lot younger.....I think I was about 6.....my parents bought us a set of cross country skis. They did not want us throwing ourselves down a hill on skis at a young age...that was the plan! Instead we would go to Beverley Westwood when there was snow to slog round with planks of wood on our feet, to drag ourselves up any slight incline to experience the thrill of a little gravity driven acceleration. This was the birth of a lifelong love of skiing......so I am even more excited about the snow.

So with the cold, lights, decorations and snow......bring on Christmas.

Waking, baking and Sunday dinner making......

This has been the first weekend for about 4 weeks that I have not been racing around, sleeping in trenches or jet setting off to Dublin that I had a weekend to myself, so this weekend I decided that I had to make the most of it, especially Sunday.

Getting up at stupid o'clock to commute to Manchester every day there is somethine really magically in sleeping in.....and quite sad when you get excited about lying in till 8.00am, as it was I managed to sleep in till at least 8:45 :) but then what do you do with the unexpected day to yourself?

Well my Mother has a charidee cake sale tomorrow, so I offered to back something for her to sell. Whilst I love to cook I know that my food would never get onto Masterchief. So a simple bake for a Sunday afternoon.......scones!!!!! Pretty straight forward recipe, that will sit in a processor for a few minutes and then into the oven!

8oz         - self-raising flour
1tsp        - baking powder
1 1/2 oz  - soft butter
1oz         - caster sugar
1             - egg
1/4 pint   - milk

Mix flour, baking powder and butter, then add sugar and then egg, before mixing in the milk, roll out, cut out, wash with milk....bake.....simples tsk!

Having offered to bake for the charidee it was only fitting that being in the kitchen I stayed there to prepare Sunday lunch.

After a day in the kitchen I remember how much I love cooking, and how much (bank manager willing) I would love to open my own restaurant. Maybe I should get out of law now while I have the chance!

Christmas is definitely just around the corner.

I'm not one of those people who can give you an exact count of the number of days to Christmas from any given day in the year, nor am I one of those people who organise presents throughout the year for that one day.....(I must admit I kind of cheat and when I am with someone, I tend to make notes of the things that they point out that they like so I can avoid the difficulty of making decisions on what jewellery, or pyjamas, or books etc to buy - being single can kinda suck at Christmas time)

I love the house fully decorated, the chance to spend the time with the family is fantastic, and the joy of watching my niece's face when she opens her presents makes all the time an effort worth while.

My family has a tradition at Christmas. Christmas eve is usually spent doing the last wrapping, and preparing the veggies for Christmas dinner, followed by a few drinks with friends and Midnight Mass. Christmas morning usually starts early, with my younger Sister who tends to be up at about 6.30am, even after Jess was born, and be dying to open the stockings. Stockings are opened upstairs, then breakfast of cold ham and boiled eggs and then onto the important job of opening the rest of the presents. After presents for the last ten years I will go and prepare Christmas dinner, typically with my Father's help (I tend to ensure that Dad has got at least one DVD which he can watch whilst having a drink whilst I cook! I find it so much easier that way round!)

After dinner the traditional Christmas activity takes over of sleeping through the Queen's speech, and pretty much everything else that is on TV.

I really enjoy this time of year, and Christmas seems to be just round the corner. This feeling was heightened today with the opening of Manchester's Christmas Market, a huge continental market spread throughout the centre, with all manner of stalls all festive and full of cheer (oh and mulled wine!)

P.S. - I apologise my posts are somewhat like buses.....you wait all week for one and then two come along at once!

Things to do in Dublin.......

I'm sorry to all of you for the paucity of posts so far this month.....a combination of a crazy few weeks and then a touch of bloggers block.

There have been up and down the Country at least twice a week, but then this weekend saw the entire department's annual (well semi annual.....in that it occurs when they remember and have something/somewhere to discuss with us!) grand team bonding session. This time it was a trip to Dublin, to see our new office and to meet all those people we know about but who we have never met (some of them with good reason I have to say!)

This extravegansa saw about 140 people converging from 6 airports into Dublin International Airport, which is a really nice airport and delivered by a very friendly coach driver to our hotel......(not one that I will be heading back to anytime soon, but a stereotypical conference hotel) I think that it would have been taken slightly better had our flight not left Manchester at 7.55am for a first organised event at 12:30pm. After the conference and a evening of moderate entertainment (well I say moderate...it certainly started out that way with a walk round the office, a few drinks and a dinner, but ended up somewhat messily!)

A couple of us decided that as we had travelled over to Dublin, it would be good to stay over on Saturday night and enjoy Saturday in Dublin, so wondered what you can do. Having checked online we realised that we would be pushed to fit everything in.

Things that we thought that we would do:

1. Visit the Guiness museum,
2. Have our photo taken with Molly Malone,
3. Walk round Trinity College,
4. Visit Grafton Street,
5. See Landesdowne Road Stadium (and if possible see a game there!)

Well I would love to say that we did everything in the list and lets face it it isn't exactly an onerous list. Saturday morning saw us decide to go for a walk into town, having seen the stadium from a distance (.....about a mile from the hotel) Does this count?

A walk into the centre.....past Trinity College, and along Grafton Street, we found a pub.....well after a somewhat late night on Friday a coffee for me.....whilst the guys hit the Guiness straight away at 10:30am. Some 17 hours later we made it back to the hotel! There was fantastic live folk music, some hugely friendly people (except for one very well informed young lady who decided that she had to inform us four poor guys from the mainland the effects of 16 Guinesses in a short space of time - thankfully not experienced her dire warnings!) great beers and I can hugely recommend the Porterhouse - Temple Bar.

Whilst the flight home on Sunday was not too fun Dublin was everything that it was billed as, and can't wait to go back......

P.S. - Having looked at the list of things to do we:

1. Drank pretty much the whole Guiness museum's worth,
2. Definitely saw Molly Malone.....if not been able to focus a camera on her
3. Walked along Grafton Street and around Trinity College.....trying to find the pub where we were to meet up, and
4. Saw Landsdowne Road Stadium - from afar......and even caught a rugby match, even if it was whilst sitting in a pub with a beer in my hand!

Result I would say!

Two guys in a trench!

Well after turning 34 (and trying to grow up......well not really ;) )  the best way I could think of celebrating was to sit in a foxhole overnight, in the cold, just for re-enacting (I don't even get paid to sit in a foxhole and have people shoot at me, this is just for giggles......well there is a far more important purpose.....to remind people what those incredibly brave, heroic men and women lived through in defending our liberties and life!)

 Whilst we battled through Saturday and there were all manner of stories and amusing moments, although they are probably those kind of stories that will only be amusing to fellow re-enactors, but after 8 hours in the woods we decided to retreat back to the foxhole. For those who have never seen a re-enactment it is a bit like boyscout camps, interspersed with periods of historical activity, and usually a rehearsed pitched battle. In the winter season there are private battles, where training and tactics are practiced (it's a lot like cops 'n' robbers but in period kit, and with period tactics). 

The battling was fun, but what really struck me was that whilst we do this hobby and try to ensure that we do things as correctly as possible, waking up on a foxhole was incredible. That poor young men from all over the world woke up in the bottom of trenches, or in bunkers, or foxholes, and are still doing so. We woke with mist and smoke slipping along the trench bottom and through the door, swirling in the slanting sunlight. 

We are incredibly lucky that we do not live through those times anymore, that whilst conflict still rages around us, we are still in a very long period of World peace. That countless young men woke up, and still do, to these conditions......to never see another. That those young men lived, and died that we may be free, and at this time of year, with Remembrance Day around the corner it is a time that I always take a few hours to remember and thank those that have come before, and those that are still to come.

Another year older, another year.........wiser?

Well I am now standing on the brink of another Birthday and this has got me thinking!

What have learnt this year? Am I more mature? Growing up towards adulthood? (okay so technically at 33 I should be an adult already - and physically I'm there, or thereabouts)

This year has been a huge roller coaster for me and those of you who have read some of my earlier posts will have some idea what has happened, but so far I cannot find any evidence that I've learnt anything new (apart from the joy of "Blogging" - does that count?)  I'm pretty sure that I already knew that black sambucca was not a drink that you should inhale, that spending time with friends and family was one of the most important things to me, that handstands or break dancing in a kilt was not an attractive sight for anyone involved, and that work is there to give you a chance to recover from the weekend whilst getting you the money to do what you enjoy doing! I know that if I was put in the same position again with a girl I would continue to wear my heart on my sleeve, throw myself in, and undoubtedly get hurt......would I do it again - almost inevitably.

I'm pretty sure that there have been no blinding moments of stunning enlightenment, as for Paul on the road to Damascus, no sudden flash of a 200 watt light bulb going off above my head (I hold my hand up here, and readily admit that at the moment it seems to be a 5watt energy efficiency bulb....you know the one that you turn on and after 45 minutes still waiting for a light source that a glow worm would laugh at!)

Nor can I see that I have matured massively. I still enjoy going out and drinking with friends (usually resulting in drinking games that I first enjoyed when I was 18) and although I am quite happy to go and enjoy a meal in refined surroundings, or enjoy the theatre or even the ballet (obviously again only the really macho ones......is there one based on Rambo?) but I enjoyed doing that when I was 18 as well, I just couldn't afford to do it very often. I suppose that the "occasional food for the soul" that I enjoy now may be a sign of a slowly dawning appreciation of my age, and a creeping maturity, but at the same time I will still be spending my weekend sleeping in a foxhole in the middle of a wood, no doubt in the rain and cold (.....for fun, not even because I have to be there!)

I don't really celebrate my birthday, not even the big ones 18, 21 or 30 (I do seem to remember a lot of alcohol and a Pizza Hut chicken supremey thing being brought back up over a friends wall on my 21st - this is certainly not a comment on Pizza Hut, and other pizza restaurants are available, but rather more the punch where whatever was brought was added into the bucket ). I can't remember the last time I had a proper party/night out to celebrate one (although that may be an indication of my nights out) but I think that life is often too short to only enjoy yourself once a year. Nor am I hung up on getting older. I look forward to it! Life is equally too short to worry about it passing, but rather it should be enjoyed.

I am looking forward to getting those distinguished grey hairs at the temple (I have checked when I go to the barbers but honestly they are only slightly lighter......not grey at all!), and crows' feet and the worry lines to give the impression of a hard working 'real' man - like an Arctic explorer, deep sea fisherman, or bin-man! (rather than someone who spends most of his life staring at paperwork or a computer screen! - maybe I should try and get one of those jobs instead). I love the idea of growing old disgracefully, but then I ask myself what sort of midlife crisis can I have? How can I out-crazy my hobby of re-enacting? Buying a fast sports car and surrounding myself with beautiful young women would seem like a calming down! Maybe "free-running" or "extreme ironing"?

Here's to ageing. You only get to live once, so you might as well enjoy everyday, whether it is your birthday or not.

and here's to growing up - to being finally able to look over the bar top!

Excited! You bet your a*s!

Those of you who have read some of my posts, you will have realised that I have a real love for the city of York. I worked and lived there for about 2 years a couple of years back, and I love the whole city, it's feel, the fact that you are surrounded by history, and just the whole atmosphere. Other than a few couple of hours grabbed here and there (and to be honest it is my own fault.....it's only 35 miles away, and since I have been let go from the relationship my diary has been my own!)

There have been a number of nights out that have been arranged, but these have the tendencies of falling apart, usually as a result of a severe case of Cantbe Arseditis not just on my behalf, but unfortunately it has meant that the great nights in York, typically out at Fibbers, Bar BPM, or The Gallois! have not taken place.

Imagine my excitement however because.....Saturday night.......house party.......alcohol......halloween-ish......York night out!

Hotel room booked - City Centre York - ü
Alcohol purchased - ü
Outfit cleaned and pressed - ü

Wednesday night and everyone still up for it - ü

So I am a little bit excited!!!!!

And the fact that friends in York have just had their second baby so get a "Baby Fresh" fix before a night on the beers (okay that sounds so wrong but let me clarrify.......I love the fact that there is nothing quite like the smell of a baby......I will clarrify that again a freshly cleaned baby smell!) so I am just a little excited.

Food for the soul 2..........Whitewall

A couple of months ago, as a means of wasting a lunchtime I decided to wander around the Manchester Art Gallery which was fantastic.

Today, and again with the prospect of a wet cigarette and an expensive cup of coffee I decided to see what else was out there. I know that there are a large number of museums in the area, but many of them would take longer than the allowed 1 hour (okay so sometimes 90 minutes but don't tell anyone!) to see, and lets face it if you are going to see a museum you really want to see it all.

I know that there is another art gallery on Portland Street and intend to see this, but with other minor errands to run I knew that I would not be able to appreciate it fully. Instead, whilst walking down Deansgate/King Street I stumbled across Whitewall Galleries. Okay so it wasn't difficult at all to find, and I have walked past it a couple of times and considered going in.

Well today was the day.

I was amazed at what could be done with such a small space, and really enjoyed all the art that was on display. My favourite was a very moody sea-scape by an artist called Philip Grey, whose "Irish Storm" (I think that was what it was called although I didn't feel like I could take a picture of it or get my phone out to record the name whilst I was in the gallery!) The use of the colours made you feel like the crashing waves could flow out of the frame and soak your shoes.

Further sea-scapes by Chris and Steve Rocks were also very impressive, and if I had the odd £5,000 lying around I would have loved to have bought an oil on canvas of a wood-scape by Inam. Unfortunately I don't have that kind of cash, and even if I did there would be so many far more pressing uses for it (but it's nice to dream, and I might just have to try my luck on the lottery tonight!)

I would really recommend Whitewall Galleries, or certainly the one in Manchester. Even though I was somewhat dressed down, within 10 minutes of walking through the door I was being offered coffee, and whilst it's not somewhere you can spend hours, it is a very pleasurable way of spending 45 minutes.

My two favorite cities............one long day

Sometimes The Law has its advantages. One of them used to be the perk of client entertaining for Defendants. When you are working for a multi-million pound insurance company the benefits of client entertaining used to be massive. I have heard of trips to the Channel Islands in private jets, hot-air ballooning around the North York Moors, meals at all the best restaurants, and flights all over the world. I have to say that in the current financial climate the entertaining budgets have declined massively, and I came to the 'dark-side' only relatively recently so now it's an occasional trip to see the clients to share a limp sarnie in a Holiday Inn on the M25. (not quite as glamourous........another of those FOX lies!) 

I have to admit I don't particularly look forward to these events. There is often a lot of small talk that can be quite forced when you first meet people, but last night saw the entire team being taken down to London to drum up business from a big client. Given austerity measures this was held in a really nice Turkish restaurant behind Southwark called Ev. Whilst it was never going to be a night out with friends it was a really good night. What made it more so was that three of us were 'lucky' enough to stay down in London (we had to write why we should stay down in less than a hundred words with pictures), and appartments were booked just off Fetter Lane. The party broke up at about 11:00pm and a short journey back to the appartment and the other two went to their rooms. This left me with an opportunity to walk around one of the biggest commercial centres at night.

There was almost no-one around other than black cabs, and I had the opportunity to walk through the middle of these huge buildings, surrounded by light and almost silence, whilst around me the banks and the big legal behamoths slumbered. Whilst a social animal, I also love spending time on my own, and to find peace and tranquility in the heart of the capital was amazing, being able to walk past the historical buildings dating from between the 16th and 21st centruries, and it is one of the reasons I love London.

From London (and thanks to engineering works on the train network) for some crazy reason the quickest route back to Hull was via York, but this gave me another opportunity to spend time in York. The other city that I love (other than Hull of course!). Again a chance to walk through historic and ancient buildings and with no reason to rush to again watch the world race by whilst enjoying the peace and quite of a place I love.

Sorry no pictures cos the camera died on me, but I would have loved to share the tranquililty and emptiness of London at night (obviously just a specific part!)

Autumn

After a somewhat (unexpectedly) hectic weekend, and a full house, I decided that after a really bright and sunny day it might be a chance to escape to one of my favourite places to think and be by myself. After resolving the work and conflicts of the last few weeks there was nothing that has been specifically on my mind, but I love to just take some time out occasionally and enjoy the world around me. Beverley westwood is a quite large piece of public land, just outside Beverley (unsurprisingly) a medium sized Town a few miles away from Hull. The Westwood has previously got me through a number of relationship break-ups, job stresses and even some quite deep depressions, but it is also a place that you can enjoy the woodland and some fantastic panaroamic views.

I'm note sure if it has just been me, but although the days have obviously been getting shorter, it seemed that we maintained some of Summer. Over the last few days however, despite some sunny weather, Autumn definitely seems to have arrived.

I enjoy Autumn, although I know some people dread this time of year.

Autumn

A burnished light from sun

strikes a mist bound earth;

shines through the bronzed and scorched

halo of the trees;

preparing to shed the last vestiges of life,

to slumber for a season;

Whilst above flocks flee to their Winter's rest;

Life fleeing;

Life sleeping;

A year dying;

Hoping for re-birth

Gotta love a student!

Having been a student on a couple of times in my life I know I have done a number of crazy things in the name of joining in and team membership (from dressing up in matching floral dress with handbag and hat to singing and dancing naked in a rugby ceremony).

I currently live very close to Hull University and since the freshers have turned up there have been a large number of crazy sights that kind of take me back!

For example last night, a friend and I thought it would be a good idea to catch up. He's married witha  kid and having grown up with him (and having been his best man and dragged him round the Munich Beerfest on his stag-do!) we don't catch up as much as we used to. We thought a quiet drink at the 'Old Grey Mare' was in order only to be confronted by what seemed to be a football team (weren't big enough to play rugby!) drinking heavily and abusing the waitress who had to take plates of chips and sausages to the ingrates (again it may be a case of my upbringing but even in my worst of drunken states abusing a member of staff, female or not who was bringing you sustenance is just something you don't do!). This was added to by numerous students running in, wearing T-shirts covered in graffiti and swearing loudly (seriously is this necessary!) A decision to head on was swiftly made to be presented by a huge number of strange sights......apparently it is the new thing to dress up.....we saw groups of pirates, a bunch of naked chefs (seriously it's not that warm!)  , three legged school girls and a bunch of golfers (I'm not sure what the collective noun for a bunch of golfers is but your recommendations would be warmly welcomed!)

Tonight my sister and I decided that having looked at the television listings, a quick drink down Newland Avenue was the way to go, only to be presented by more students in more fancy dress costumes.

I cannot recall a time when I was a student when I could afford fancy dress costumes.....even though I had a job through out my degree. Our idea of fancy dress was something made at home out of paper mache, or a bad taste party which would involve a trip round the charity shop to spend less than £3 for a complete outfit (although I always rejected the idea of buying second hand pants......I think, or at least I hope it was just a Dundee thing!) but these guys seem to have the complete works from golfing plus fours to a pirate outfit that wouldn't look out of place on Kiera Knightley or Johnny Depp (okay there isn't too much to get for a naked chef......other than an apron!)

University was a place to find yourself whilst learning that money really had to be earned (I still think that a cheap box of cornflakes and a pint of milk makes a dinner for three days!). Here's hoping that they enjoy every minute!

Told you there was some bad taste going on!

Family visit - Oxford Part 3 - The Extra Factor

I am not a huge fan of the X-Factor. To be honest I cannot remember who won what, when and other than a handful of contestants I cannot really think of any who have made a real career from winning it.

I hold my hand up and admit that I will occasionally watch the first few open audition weeks, although this is typically with the same type of morbid fascination that the ancients watched gladiatorial games. It is incredible to see young Wayne, whose Mum has put him up for it and whose voice she says is that of an angel, who would only be able to hit the correct note if it was lying bleeding at his feet and he had a big shovel in his hands, and who has as much chance of hitting the charts as I have of becoming the first man to walk on the sun! But for some reason it's is almost addictive to watch these people come on and murder a song before being ripped apart by the judges on the panel. It does seem a bit sad that celebrity is something that is so desperately sought that people will willingly risk national humiliation for the chance to gain it (I know that I couldn't carry a tune even in a bucket......and therefore I would not enter myself into a singing competition!)

This weekend, my Sister, who really enjoys the X-Factor, but knowing that she was going to be sharing the TV with three rugby lads decided to make things slightly more interesting with an X-Factor drinking game. I believe she found it online, and having had a brief look I know that there are several out there all along the same lines, but the rules that we played are these:

With a TV turned onto the X-factor and a drink of your choice in hand (admittedly alcohol in our case but this is not necessarily a requisit and I certainly don't suggest or recommend drinking in excess.....even if I do tend to end up doing it!)

Everytime one of the following happens two fingers depth of drink and drunk:

• Louis Walsh mentions that Simon Cowell brought the world...........(you can choose for yourself who to suggest or just use the fact that he mentions anyone)
• Louis Walsh mentions Westlife
• Simon Cowell winks at a contestant
• A contestant describes that this is their "life dream" or that they are "going to give it their all"
• Cheryl Cole calls someone "Pet"
• That anyone of the judges uses the phrase "you owned that!"

If this was not enough you are then to "down" the drink if:

• A contestant's performance is described as karaoke
• Cheryl Cole cries
• A performance is described as the "Best performance of the night", or
• Someone utters the phrase "you are the reason that this competition exists!"

I admit that after the first few rounds we had to swiftly move on to shots as we were running out of beer, although we kept to the longer drinks for the two finger challenges.

I don't know if I enjoyed the X-factor anymore than normal, although I must admit that it did seem to go faster.

Sunday was not so much fun!

Family visit - Oxford Part 2

Whilst in Oxfordshire we decided that we would take the opportunity to visit Minster Lovell Hall, now in ruins, about 10 miles from my Sister's house (well I say we.......some of the guys decided to stay at home and watch Welsh rugby and drink beer, but five of us went!)

We are hugely lucky in the UK to have ruins just literally lying around the place! They are usually really well kept by English Heritage and are always really interesting. I love the feel of old ruins and the places area always hugely atmospheric.

Minster Lovell Hall was given to the Lovel family by Henry I prior to 1124, passing through a succession of Lovels until John Lovel (d. 1310) was created first Lord Lovel.

After the Battle of Bosworth it was passed to the uncle of Henry VII but the Hall as ruined was built in the 1430s on the foundations of an older house, although nothing beyond foundations remain to the east, where accommodation chambers may have been sited.

The atmosphere was quite strange and apparently it is the home to two ghosts. The first is supposedly of Lord Lovel, who was said to have been hiding in a secret room when the servant who knew the location of the room died suddenly. The story is that workman later found the room where they found his skeleton sitting at a desk with his dog and a book in his hand. On opening the room everything fell to dust and his voice is apparently heard around the stones at night.The other is that of the Mistletoe Bride who whilst playing hide and seek with her groom, hid in a chest and got trapped. She is apparently seen climbing an no longer existing stair case. I didn't see any ghosts, but it was a very nice, but atmospheric place.

 

 

 

Such a cutie!

I did try and find the Mistletoe Bride or at least the missing staircase.

Richard, Jess, Bex and the Sopharola!

Another of the possible missing staircases

Family visit - Oxford Part 1

I think I have probably mentioned that my Sister and my little Niece moved down to Oxfordshire so that they could live with her husband who is in the RAF. They moved a couple of months ago, and although my parents and other sister had been down to see them, I have always been away, or busy or just not around, and so this was the first time that I have had a chance to see them and their house in what has seemed a really long time. So Sister I and I headed down from Hull, whilst her boyfriend and my half sister headed up from down South.

 

I have to say that the house was beautiful (well bungalow!) and although a Friday afternoon drive was hell (well it was the M1, followed by the M40 which at about 4.30 on a Friday afternoon was never going to be an exactly fun journey, but 45 minutes to do about 5 miles really did seem like it was taking the biscuit.....god bless loud music, nicotine and caffeine drinks.) We all arrived at about 7pm and got to catch up on what was happening in everyones' lives, who was seeing whom, how work was going, and where the short future was taking us (oh and maintained the family drinking tradition.....I should be able to update you further on this in Part 3 with a fantastic game!)

Saturday saw us taking my Niece, with my Brother in Law, and Brother outlaw, to a fantastic park just outside Carterton (a brisk walk of about 5 - 6 miles, which was really nice to get out of the house whilst the ladies organised things - Jess took her bike, although very much like her Mum who would insist her bike on any walk, and after about 200m decide that she didn't want to ride, but rather my Dad would have to carry the bike and give her a shoulder carry!)

I remember parks when I was a kid.....there was invariably a couple of broken swings, a slide with something smeared along its length, a see-saw and a roundabout with metal surrounds (I loved that.....is it just me and my friends who used those to see how fast we could get someone else to vomit?) typically covered in empty beer/cider cans, various items of clothing and pages from those top shelf magazines. My "old" parks would not even stand next to this one......a sandpit with cranes and a bucket and pulley system, two sunken trampolines, numerous swings of varying designs, an adventure playground that would have put the US Marines training grounds and the Krypton Factor's assualt course to shame, numerous slides, and a roundabout that looked like a cross between an IKEA table and the Travelator from Gladiators.

After a couple of hours of playing (I mean looking after Jess whilst she played) we headed back to a lunch that the wonderful ladies had prepared (we did treat them for their kindness later with boxes of chocolates and fizzy wine!). We did spend the afternoon either sitting watching rugby or out at Minster Lovell Manor, details of which I will bore you with tomorrow, but in the meantime I enclose a couple of photos of Jess, who is a wonderful bright spot in our life, enjoying her bike!