Updates from March, 2005

  • decoy 10:14 pm on 29/03/2005 Permalink  

    oldies 

    25 is darn old if you ask me! bellies begin to appear and, as you say, onsetting baldness…

     
  • slightly 5:54 pm on 24/03/2005 Permalink  

    Getting old 

    We are all getting old! Hell even the youngest of us is 22. Half the England football team is younger than us, even such established old hands like people like Ashley Cole and Gerrard are younger than Liv and I. And worse that that last night I had some dealings with the police at work (nothing serious) and my colleague and I remarked “Gosh wasn’t he young!”. And of course we all know that you’re getting old when policemen start to look young. Hell we’re all going bald even these days (except Jul who is the very embodiment of hairy headedness) and Nicky.

     
  • pliskin 10:11 am on 19/03/2005 Permalink  

    How long does it take to recover from a mere week of snowboarding? I was right asa rain after 2 days, playing both rugby and footie on the same week-end. And as for sailing…..PAH! You barely move on the boat. Not like chasing a sack of leather around a field for 90 minutes twice!

    Clearly you are getting old!!

     
  • decoy 9:38 pm on 18/03/2005 Permalink  

    dodgy legs 

    made the mistake of playing footy yesterday not having properly recovered from sailing and snowboarding. Calf muscles are feeling decidedly dodgy!

     
  • decoy 9:29 pm on 18/03/2005 Permalink  

    by god i’m knackered 

    So I’m now a fully qualified RYA Day Skipper (Tidal). And if I may say so, a damned good one at that!

    Day 1 : Port Solent -> Hamble
    It took us a while to remember what we were doing, so intially things were fairly shambolic, but we improved. Hamble has very nice showers.

    Day 2 : Hamble -> Yarmouth
    Maggie was skipper for the day.

    Maggie and I had a mini condiment-eating competition. We did vinagar, mint sauce and mustard, until Maggie made a beeline for the toilet!

    Day 3 : Yarmouth -> Lymington -> Alum Bay -> Ocean Village
    Skipper for the day was me! There was no wind for the first leg accross to Lymington, but the tidal vector I calculated was accurate and we practised some mooring, had lunch and had a go with the bosun’s chair (being winched up the mast). The wind picked up in the afternoon and we had some good sailing down to Alum Bay, practising Man Overboard all the way there. Anchoring up was pretty idyllic and Maggie and I rowed acrross to the beach and bought some ice cream at a touristy shop we found after we climbed up the cliffs.

    Chris took over the navigation for night sail. A bit hairy at times – we nearly ran in to a sand bank – but otherwise it was fun.

    Day 4 : Ocean Village -> Cowes

    Southampton harbour was pretty busy, but once out in was pretty good sailing. the wind was pretty good by the end of the day. Nearing force 5. Cowes was fun as usual. We had supper at a restaurant – i had swordfish – and got fairly drunk on wine.

    Day 5 : Cowes -> Port Solent

    Force 6. some good sailing, but we arrived fairly early and it was all over too soon.

    Photos to follow.

     
  • pliskin 7:55 pm on 16/03/2005 Permalink  

    Hail all,

    I also benefit (well most of the time anyway) from the magic fairy who deposits clean washing on my chair at regular intervals. A pack of about 10 washed and ironed work shirts miraculously appeared in my wardrobe the other day, a blessing for which I am eternally grateful!

     
  • dodman 3:31 pm on 16/03/2005 Permalink  

    Op North was good. Highlights included riding the 125 bike, seeing Bill’s wood, and eating halibut.

     
  • decoy 5:21 pm on 11/03/2005 Permalink  

    Washing clothes every day sounds like some sort of personal hell to me!

    No time to post – off sailing!

     
  • slightly 8:42 am on 11/03/2005 Permalink  

    Personally I don’t like doing my washing every day. I agree with the recommendation for a couple pairs of trousers and jumpers sure but prefer infinite pairs of socks, pants and t-shirts so that you don’t have to do the washing very often. When I went to India I had two t-shirts, a pair of trousers, a pair of shorts and about four sets of undergarments.

    And yes I am a lucky gentlemen in that the magic fairy does deposit clean washing at the end of the bed :-)

     
  • dodman 7:00 pm on 08/03/2005 Permalink  

    Wardrobe 

    It’s come to my attention that a chap only needs two sets of clothes. One he wears, the other he washes. The washed clothes he hangs outside to dry. Bringing them inside to finish the drying process off, he suspends them from some handy horizontal slats outside the bathroom. Fresh from his morning shower on the day of changeover, he reaches upwards, slides off the sweet smelling, newly laundered articles, and slips into them. He then scoops up his collection of soiled, Billy-reeking linen and takes it out to his washing machine, where he adds his trusty Yongee Ball, and the cycle begins again.

    Many suggest this should be a daily process, particularly for old goats. Personally, at this time of year, I recommend a twice weekly changeover.

    Of course, this is for chaps who do their own washing. Chaps who don’t, and don’t send it out to reappear in sealed brown packets by special delivery, and don’t frequent their local laundrette, but find their folded linen appearing magically on their shelves on a regular basis, don’t know what they’re missing. For this, they remain eternally grateful.

    As we say in Barnham, “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.”

     
  • slightly 1:50 pm on 07/03/2005 Permalink  

    MJ Trial 

    “”Visualise that you’re PacMan and the little dots are the cancer cells and you’re eating them all up!” Michael said to me, I’ll never forget that. ”
    said Gavin and bloody hell, he got cured!

    Obviously I am biased but did you know that the prosecution allege that after the stupid documentary and while the police were investing Mr Jackson and the wicked “victim’s” family saying how MJ was like an angel and a father to them… then Michael started abusing him and only then; after the docunmentary had aired. And while they were touring around and spending loads of money they were actually kidnapped.

    Also they sued a store they had just been caught shop lifting from because they say the security guards molested them. As did the kids father says the mother. As did another chap too they say. And his mum prized thousands of pounds of money for Gavin’s treatment from other celebrities and spent it on herself since they were medically insured all along.

    Now if Macauley Culkin or one of Mj’s celebrity friends’ kids comes along and says “MJ did me”. Fine. But this lot?! Flog ‘em and send the mother to a mental institution (the one she was in before will do).

    Winge over :-)

     
  • slightly 1:32 pm on 07/03/2005 Permalink  

    I actually played a football match for 90 mins yesterday as a lone striker since we only had 10 players. This entails racing four defenders to every ball hoofed up the end you are attacking. I started off rather well but after the 18 stone goal keeper and I had run headlong into each other trying to get to the ball first I developed substantial bruising. By the last half hour I and the rest of the team were walking wounded trying desperately to keep limping at a reasonable pace and utterly devoid of any energy or ability. We lost one-nill and today i ache like nobodies business. Think I should stick to Pro Evo Soccer4 – I’m good at that at least.

     
  • dodman 10:59 pm on 04/03/2005 Permalink  

    Pointless 

    Up to a point, Lord Copper.

     
  • slightly 4:47 pm on 04/03/2005 Permalink  

    God and gardens 

    So that’s what the almighty gets up to these days is it. I suppose He has a history of doing this sort of pointless stuff – messing about with gardens and letting blokes wander around in them. And not noticing things like Tsunami’s in time to stop them. “Then the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man he had formed and he said unto the man, rejoice, I giveth unto you a season ticket, not exchangeable for cash or to be used in conjuction with any other offer” Genesis 1: 8-12

     
  • dodman 6:37 pm on 03/03/2005 Permalink  

    The price of enlightenment 

    I wouldn’t have a clue. My “Friendship” was bestowed upon me by a Higher Power.

     
  • slightly 6:04 pm on 03/03/2005 Permalink  

    For about £30

     
  • dodman 3:01 pm on 03/03/2005 Permalink  

    Spiritual home 

    Kew Gardens is the spiritual home of all gardeners, and regular visits must be made in accordance with divine decree. To sit within the Palm House, absorbing the essential energies of flowers and plants from around the globe, is to feel replete. Not to visit Kew, particularly during the inclement month of February, is unthinkable for any but the most boorish denizens of earth.

    The cost and effort involved pales into insignificance besides the inestimable value obtained from rubbing shoulders with fellow enthusiasts of the greatest art known to mankind. For those that want to “join”, we “Friends of Kew”, known far and wide from our embossed “cards” blessed by “Management”, have free entrance bestowed on us and our accolytes.

    Praise be to the turnstile operators.

     
  • slightly 1:09 pm on 03/03/2005 Permalink  

    Kew Gardens 

    Crocuses you say? They’re all over the place! The madness of driving (or not driving) all the way to central Londond for a few crocuses! I got in last week for the reduced price of £7.50 since it was going to close in one and half hours. I can’t believe the readiness to pay good money to see some old rusty green houses and trees when we live so near the Real Countryside. Fortunately I wasn’t the one paying B-) Although, I would conceed that come summer time there mght be more to see than grass and empty flower beds

     
  • dodman 11:25 am on 02/03/2005 Permalink  

    Kew Gardens 

    We all set off for Kew on a cold Sunday morning but Bertie the box broke down half way there so after being towed back home and starting off again in Rodney, Geoff and I spent less time gazing in awe at the crocuses than we might otherwise have done. Although I wasn’t present to witness the speeches, I believe the rest of the party stated in no uncertain terms that they had never enjoyed themselves so much in their lives, bitter wind notwithstanding.

    Many lovely orchids. It was too early for the camelias, sadly.

    Hopefully, we’ll return in April.

    Meanwhile, Bertie sits outside in disgrace.

     

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