Top marks!

Wow, I got 7/7 in the BBC News Magazine weekly quiz - that's never happened before.

More on the 5th

Have you ever seen anything more miserably-written, more designed to dissuade people from attending, than this from Lewes District Council? Lewes Bonfire Nights are legendary, and rightly so as you will see if you read this or this.

Remember, remember the Fifth of November

Remember, remember the Fifth of November
The Gunpowder Treason and plot
I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes 'twas his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament
Three score barrels of powder below
Poor old England to overthrow

By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holler boys, holler boys, ring bells ring
Holler boys, holler boys, God Save the King!

A penny loaf to feed the Pope
A farthing o'cheese to choke him
A pint of beer to rinse it down
A faggot of sticks to burn him

Burn him in a tub of tar
Burn him like a blazing star
Burn his body from his head
Then we'll say old Pope is dead

Hip Hip Hoorah!
Hip Hip Hoorah!
Hip Hip Hoorah!

Traditional

Quietly seething

OK, we know that some Icelandic banks have gone into administration, and we've learned too that a number of local councils around the UK have money on deposit, which they, and we, are hoping will be protected.

But then we see this wonderfully self-satisfied yet pointless quote from The TaxPayers' Alliance (who they? Ed.), as reported by the BBC: "Every year we hear that councils don't have enough money and need to raise taxes but it seems they have had sufficient excess tax to salt tens of millions of pounds away.

"In short, they should not have stashed this money in the first place and they simply weren't equipped to try to be clever in the markets with it."

"It's an absolute disgrace. If the councils can't get their money back, the people who took these excesses should seriously consider their positions as councillors."

For heaven's sake, Mark Wallace, campaign director at The TaxPayers' Alliance, get a grip. Have you the faintest idea what you would do if you'd just collected tens of millions of pounds from Council Tax payers? Would you pop home with it in bulging brown envelopes and try and stuff it under your mattress, or would you seek professional guidance and try and find a safe, reputable bank in which to deposit the cash pending its use over the coming months on essential local services? With the wonderful benefit of hindsight you have, exactly which banks would you reccommend, and which would you avoid? Come on, you've got all the answers ... haven't you?

I had a lovely e-mail this morning, which I thought I'd share with you:

hey^) how are you?) do you have a girlfriend?)... i have not boyfriend(( I very want to meet real men...which will know woman's need ...like in a cinema ... you know)))) lets chat!) i am pretty girl)) I have a lot of time for meetings and if you have any ideas how to spend it with me... just email me back at [deleted e-mail address] and i will reply back with some nice ;) photos with me ...and maybe, you will want to write me again)))

No, love ... just ... no. The return address is in Singapore, so if anyone would like the contact details, just let me know.

SpamAssassin rated it 0.8 out of 4 which is disappointing, though I suppose I wouldn't have had the pleasure of reading it if it had been higher, maybe.

Not all doom and gloom

In what we might call "challenging" trading conditions at the moment, the company I work for has reported increased profits in the last twelve months despite slighty reduced like-for-like sales. It's interesting to note how different news organisations, such as Reuters and the BBC, report what's effectively the same news. The share price has shot up on the news anyway, so yay!

4x4s really are bad for your health

I offer, in evidence, the following photographs:

My apologies

Since recently learning that the Chinese were planning a space walk, I've been boring anyone who will listen that the Chinese for astronaut is 'taikonaut'. This was one of those things I knew I knew, but not from where I knew it.

However, it turns out they are not taikonauts after all, but yuhangyuans. So, sorry about that. Read more here.

Political correctness/social phenomenon

Is it just me, or are the Male and Female signs on toilets getting harder to tell apart? The little icons I mean. Maybe I'm just getting older - well, I am - but I think it's a collective resignation, not to mention cowardice, on the part of the corporate world, that has changed the designs to be so bland and inoffensive that you can no longer tell them apart at a glance - the point of signage, after all. No more pink for Ladies and blue for Men, and the female and male silhouettes don't show clearly the anatomical and sartorial differences. Are you noticing this too?

Who offers the best curry in Croydon?

Probably not a question you ask yourself very often, but if you were to, then please consider The Chilli Room, where Steve and I took Chris and Jane on Friday evening. Now those two have eaten in restaurants around the world, and to declare this eaterie on Croydon's South End "the best curry we've eaten outside Singapore*" is, I would suggest, praise indeed.

*why the best curry should be in Singapore and not, say, Bangalore, I have no idea. You'd better ask them if you want the answer to that.

Sorry Mr Fry

Have you listened to Stephen Fry's latest blessay yet? It's been a long time coming, but he's finally done the next one. In it, he first of all rails at those journos, bloggers and columnists who, devoid of anything important to say, waste space by simply ranting at something. Then, after apologising, he has a really good rant himself. Anyway, do listen to it.

And so, with apologies to one of my favourite Englishmen, I'm going to just, briefly, mention the fat tit in the fat Land Rover Discovery at the Waitrose garage this afternoon who, rather than sending his fat wife in to pay for the fuel he had just put into his fat tank, spent a good five minutes, oblivious to the half-dozen or so cars waiting patiently for their turn at the pumps, carefully and slowly to wash all the lights, then the windscreen, using the complimentary wet sponge, and only after doing this did he waddle over to the shop to pay for his fuel before, finally, shifting his fat vehicle.

OK, rant over.

My office

Well, not exactly, but this is what I spend most of my day looking at.

Are politicians getting younger?

To discover that the Leader of Her Majesty's Most Loyal Opposition is just three-and-a-half weeks older than me is a sobering thought.

Politicians, in my head, and generally with a few exceptions, are boring, old, white, middle class men in grey suits. I may have to re-think this, because the alternative - that I'm boring, old ... da da da - is clearly unthinkable.

"Why would you want an electric book?"

My percipient nephew's pretty damn cool comment about Steve's new Sony Reader.

Vote for me!!!

Sorry, didn't mean to sound so needy ...

It's just that I've got a couple of designs entered at teetonic, and if you thought they had any merit, you could vote for them I suppose ...

(Note to self ... must stop doing all these ellipses ... shows lack of imagination ...)

Which designs? Oh, sorry, didn't I mention? One of them is a big yellow smilie with the legend under "smile", and the other is just the word "T-Shirt" in a kind of retro blue font. I'm sure you can find them.

Thanks!

Holidays ruined

Sometimes one finds that 'counting one's lucky stars' is the only bright spot in a dull world.

This time last year (or thereabouts) we were coming back from Paris on the Eurostar (although delayed on our return for several hours due to a power cut at the Gard du Nord). If we were there now, we'd be stranded.

And this time six years ago we were in Madeira, having flown there with XL Airways. And again, if it was today, we'd be stranded. The particularly worrying aspect of this particular collapse is that, apparently, if you didn't book a package with a travel agent, but booked elements separately on the company's website - which we did - you almost certainly wouldn't receive any compensation from the bond which is supposed to guarantee customers' money. And with online payments by credit card attracting a surcharge, the temptation is to use a debit car (I can't recall but being a stingy so-and-so I imagine I would have gone for the cheaper option myself) you aren't even covered by the credit card company's guarantees.

Bad times for some this week.

Duran Duran

I want to know how Jon's meeting with Andy Taylor went, don't you? I imagine the answer's on his Facebook, but their site seems to be down at the moment...

Two National Treasures

Firstly, the impeccably-vowelled Mr Brian Sewell, on Sky Arts HD, taking us on one leg of a pilgrimage through Spain, heading for Santiago. I could listen to him for several hours with a huge grin on my face.

Then, a little later, Ms Joanna Lumley, on BBC HD, travelling on the adventure of a lifetime to realise her dream, held since childhood, of seeing the Northern Lights. By train and sled and ski-mobile well into the Norwegian Arctic, she had me transfixed for an hour. I was there with her, as she met locals and found out about this wilderness region of extremes, and the elusive phenomenon she sought so eagerly and, eventually, delightfully, witnessed.

It's what good TV is all about.

It's not just normal paranoia

Have you ever felt like people were looking at you? I don't mean because you've got egg down your tie, I mean more the way people stare at someone famous they've unexpectedly just clocked. It's just been happening to me in Waitrose. So either I'm the spit of some paedo who's all over the Sunday papers, or maybe a pop star? I prefer to imagine the latter, natch. Still, rather disconcerting. Unlike a 'celeb', I doubt if Hello will be interested in shelling out a hundred grand for my exclusive story and picture feature, though, sadly.

Apple pie and ...

Occasionally a car number plate occurs to me which theoretically could exist somewhere. Today I imagined CU57ARD.

A couple of thoughts on English and French things

First a little rant ("What?" I hear you cry, "that's just so unlike you Hamish"); then an "Ah-ha, told you so" moment.

So, to begin with, apparently, 'they' are going to ban a couple of fine British traditions. Can it really be true that dustcarts can no longer display rescued cuddly toys on the radiator grille? And what's this about ice cream vans?

My beloved brother has been heard to suggest that he would like to move to India, or Goa, or somewhere, to live out his retirement in peace from the infernal regulators, 'health & safety' vigilantes and sundry other do-gooders with which our country is increasingly afflicted. For goodness' sake don't mention these latest ridiculous ideas to him, or he'll book the bloody ticket, and that'll be the last we ever see of him. Seriously.

Incidentally, despite exhaustive searching on t'internet, I can't find any references to the dustcart story, so maybe it's just an urban myth (allegedly the ban would be because children could be run over trying to prise a teddy bear off the front of the vehicle) but of course if you know better, let me know.

Once upon a long ago I lived in Paris, and naturally as a family we bought, daily, what I now refer to awkwardly as "French sticks", but which then I just knew as baguettes. There were, essentially, two styles: the baton, which was very long and thin, and another which I have been certain for as long as I can recall, was referred to as a batard. But since returning from France at the age of seven or so, any grown-up I have mentioned this to has insisted, shocked, that batard is a very rude word and could not possibly have been a loaf of bread. (Bâtard is indeed French for bastard.)

So, gentle reader, imagine my delight when I examined closely a photograph in the July edition of Waitrose Food Illustrated, the upmarket supermarket's monthly glossy magazine. Accompanying an unashamedly evocative article entitled C'est la vie is a picture of the price board (prix de vente du pain) presumably outside a boulangerie, clearly showing listed a Pain "Batard" de 300 grammes at FF3,80, along with other products including Baguettes de 300 grammes at FF4,00.

So there. Do you think Waitrose will mind if I scan the pic and post it here? I might do...

I have just looked up batard in the Collins-Robert French-English dictionary I have had since the sixth form, and it suggests, as well as the common, vulgar, meaning, that it also has the bread-based translation of "Vienna roll", whatever one of those is. Hmmm...

What a plonker

Have you ever popped a bottle of room-temperature beer into the freezer 'just for a few minutes' to chill, but then forgotten about it? I did the other day...

A bit of a catch-up

Enormous erection
A couple of weeks ago whilst travelling across-country, I found myself unexpectedly right underneath the Emley Moor transmitter in West Yorkshire. Wow, it's impressive! I mean, I've seen it many times before, of course, across tens of miles of countryside, as the telecommunications beacon it surely is. But it's taller than the Eiffel Tower, you know?

Steve's birthday

The Friday of Steve's birthday we both had the day off and went down to Salisbury, where we ate at The Lemon Tree. Very pleasant, and I wouldn't hesitate to reccommend it. On the Saturday, as Steve's Birthday Treat, we went to the cinema to watch the new Indiana Jones film. The Odeon in the New Canal is, architecturally, a very interseting building, but sadly the main screen has a disappointing sound set-up. Of course we don't want a huge multiplex on the outskirts to destroy the character of the town centre, and I am looking forward to seeing many more films at the Odeon, but perhaps for the must-see blockbusters a trip down to Southampton may have to be arranged.

Burly Chassis

On the way home on Sunday evening we came across a beautiful silver Aston Martin DB5 on the M25 (this was the car Sean Connery's James Bond drove in Goldfinger and Thunderball, in the mid-sixties). With slowish traffic across four or five lanes Steve was able to get into various positions for me to try and take some pictures, the best of which is reproduced here. Click on it for a larger version and you'll be able to see the two passengers are grinning at me!

Bibulous

Wednesday last week to Imbibe in Blackfriars for a pub quiz in aid of a number of charities, organised by Steve's indefatigable fund-raising colleague Simon. Great fun, and a slightly bizarre mystery-tour lift home afterwards with another colleague.

House move latest:
Still waiting.


Wooo-eeee-oooo

Last Saturday was the first of the two-parter Doctor Who season finale. Steve was, to put it mildly, captivated by the unfolding storyline - as you can see!

Health news

In Monday's Times was a story about the NHS, and the accompanying photo had this caption: "Aneira Thomas, pictured at the age of 4, was named for Aneurin Bevin". Dear Times, please please do not Americanise the term "named after". I know that "named for" makes exactly as much sense, and moreover is perfectly comprehensible to every reader, but come on.

Clarkson said it, too, in the report on the Mercerdes, filmed in the Black Hills in Wales, in the second Top Gear in the new series.

Incidentally, reading the newspaper story I learned that the 1.5 million employees of the NHS are exceeded only by the Chinese People's Liberation Army, Wal-Mart, and Indian Railways.

One year on
The 1st of July saw the first anniversary of the smoking ban in England, in case you missed it. Or cared.

What a boring summer it would be...

Apparently Westminster City Council wants to ban all drinking outside licensed premises in Soho. Can you imagine what that would look like? No restaurant tables outside, no seating outside the pubs. It would be awful. Naturally, there's a petition.

Please highlight this to anyone who might sign.

Once in a while...

Just occasionally I get to drive my car and really enjoy the experience. It doesn't happen often these days on Britain's congested roads. A couple of weeks ago I was able to chuck the car through some very satisfying south-Welsh twists and turns, and this morning I lifted Ian from Salisbury to Tollard Royal (he's doing a circular walk) through some pretty Wiltshire villages. And Roxana, Steve and I are off out there again very shortly to join him for lunch at the King John Inn, so I get to do it again!

Fab show

Thoroughly good evening at the Palace Theatre. Go and see it - but only if you don't mind tasteless show tunes about the Jews, the Gays ... and the French! "Lovingly ripped off from Monty Python and the Holy Grail," says the publicity, and it surely is, but expands to satirise musical theatre in general. Highly recommended.

Tonight

This is where we are tonight! Will post review later.

Springwatch - the real story

Just received this text from my sister.
"Bluetits fledged. Two on kitchen floor - now in compost bin. Third in flower bed - cats locked in house - parents trying to encourage baby to join them."

An ethical question

You're standing in front of a parking ticket machine (the pay-and-display sort), working out your change for the number of minutes you expect to need, when a kindly fellow motorist who is about to drive off winds her window down and offers you her still-valid ticket. Firstly, should you accept it? Secondly, and if you do, should you offer her at least something towards it? And, assuming you haven't paid anything, should you put the ticket through on expenses?

The next chapter begins

I am beginning to set up a new website - to run alongside haymee.com - called 20KR.net.

As we prepare for, and begin, our move to Salisbury; as we move into our new home; as we plan and start the major projects to modernise the house; and as we make our mark on the property, enjoy it and party in it... we want to take you along for the ride.

So, bookmark the page, and check back frequently!

I've got myself a Facebook, or something. No idea what to do with it really. Any ideas?

Fair play to my neph

Where most teenagers would settle for bringing home your standard orange-and-white traffic cone after a drunken night out, this is what's in the loft room at my sister's.

Just some random thoughts

Red wine headache today - not good. I'm staying at my favourite hotel in Leith and went over to Michael & Christophe's last night. We had a great time, but my head hurts today...

Had a heck of a journey up yesterday: an hour and half queuing on the M25 at the Dartford river crossing, because the southbound bridge was closed due to the wind, and so the two tunnels, usually for northbound traffic only, were being shared. Instead of being very early this was going to make be about on time for my first appointment. I made up time on the A1, then discovered the Forth Bridge was closed and diversions via the Kincardine Bridge were going to delay me about an hour. So from about an hour and half early at 7am, by 5pm I was going to be an hour late. As it turned out the Forth Bridge, when I got to it, was open again, and the rest of the evening went smoothly.

There is something seriously wrong when you pass a petrol station with diesel at 113.9p and think, "Oh, must remember that one, it's quite reasonably priced."

I realise the irony of what I have written above: it is perhaps Better For The Planet that fuel prices should be high, and the fact that they haven't been, historically, may account for the type of weather that closes motorway bridges up and down the land.

Oh, apparently there is a Surf Bus which leaves London at 5.30pm every Friday in summer heading for Cornwall.

Rainbows at Murrayfield

This isn't going well is it? I suppose the weather and home ground is favouring the Scots, but it has to be admitted they are the better side. Currently SCO 12-3 ENG.

Watching in HD and Dolby Stereo is nice now the lounge is pretty much reconstructed.

Last night I logged on to BBC News and found a banner ad (for Shell) at the top of the page. It's not there today, and I didn't imagine it! It was directly below the grey BBC links at the very top. I'm in a hotel so maybe that has something to do with it - although as I say it's not there any more, and I'm still in the hotel...

The town I was in on Valentine's night, by the way, was St Albans. I was there again recently, parked in a designated space, but someone parked behind me (I was in the last official space but the white lines painted in the road were pretty faint, it was night-time and the street lightling isn't very good) and the wardens pounced again.

Got a parking fine myself at the weekend, in Salisbury. I had put the ticket correctly in the car, but went out to get something from the back and it must have been slamming the boot that flipped it over. £30 thank you very much.

Vicky Pollard meets The West Wing

As I wandered this morning down a long Devon hotel corridor, illuminated every couple of metres by bright overhead spots leaving defined pools of light on the carpet, I overheard the West Country tones of a maid on the phone through an open bedroom door: "... and I told 'er to get BONgella ...", with the emphasis on the first syllable.

Priorities wrong

The Home Secretary has announced that "police in England and Wales are to have targets on minor offences relaxed" so that they can concentrate on violent, particulalrly knife, crime, according to BBC News. This is not the way to do it. Yes, increase the spending on dealing with violent crime: add the metal detectors and do the advertising. But not at the expense of the ordinary, everyday policing: the traffic offences, the anti-social behaviour, the burglaries.

Here's a radical idea: spend more.

A memorable Valentine's gift

In the centre of a market town in southern England there is a road. Well, it has many of the features you would expect of a road: it is tarmaced; cars drive along it; it has pavements with kerbs. But apparently it is not a road.

Last Thursday evening, at around nine o'clock, two uniformed traffic wardens were industriously writing out parking tickets for four cars, all sensibly and safely parked along the edge of this street. They had their little digital camera, flashing away to prove that they really had stuck the notices on the windscreens. I got into 'conversation' with them, because I wanted to park there too. I was told that this is not a road, at least in terms of parking: it is a footpath. I laughed a little, pointing to the features I described earlier. But no, if I parked there I too would be ticketed. I ventured that this was clearly a nice little earner for [nameless town] - build a thing that looks like a road, then fine people for parking along it. I got a shrug.

A little while later, as I was working nearby, I watched a young couple return to one of the cars. He had to hold and comfort her for a few moments after they discovered the fine. Maybe it doubled the cost of their Valentine's night out. I didn't watch for the other owners.

Atchoo!

So many poofs and dykes in Sainsburys this evening - I'm not sure but I'm beginning to think Croydon is developing a disproportionately large concentration.

I was in a branch of Sainsburys about a hundred miles from here the other day watching three security guards standing quite menacingly in the entrance to the shop, hands in pockets and chewing gum. I thought that was just a one-off, a rogue store; but tonight in Croydon the guard was filling up the soft drinks fridge. Slipshod management attitudes will lead to more crises for that retailer, mark my words.

We had a really nice time down in Salisbury between Christmas and just after New Year when we came back for work. Lampshade shopping featured prominently one day, I recall. Steve cooked I think every day we were down, battling some of the time with a nasty cold, so he did rather well. But it was a good break from the routine.

I have that cold now.

Our shower packed up soon after we came back in the New Year, and until an engineer from Triton turns up in two weeks time we are having to have baths each morning, which isn't ideal from economic or time management viewpoints. So today we have bought a temporary rubber hose shower attachment for the bathroom sink taps; I'll let you know how we get on with it, in case you care.

Well we bought some Prosecco while we were out so in a bit we'll stick our new Simpsons movie (thanks Geoff) on and drift into a nice Saturday evening haze.