Been very remiss here lately with keeping up to date with stuff I should have done, catching up now with the links to places I've been. The plan was to record them all when I started this place if only so I could see what I'd been looking at over time. Just a couple of weeks to catch up with. Shame on me....
The perils of children's birthdays are uppermost in our heads at the moment. Monst has promised Cal a large Thunderbird 2 for his birthday. Problem 1: the manufacturers don't make the thing anymore. Problem 2: E-bay is a risky business and so far attempts to secure said item have led to us being outbid. Problem 3: Scarcity increases both demand and price. Yet foolish girl has promised and we must deliver........
So the decorations come down in a post-crimbo purge that gladdens my humbug heart. Cal's been scurrying around trying to help but in reality being more of a hinderance. Attempts to distract him with the hungriest of hungry hippo's games have failed miserably. Still he has passed the odd message between Monst and myself, admitedly involving tea. All to the accompiniment of the third round of the cup. What more do you need?
The change of the Ella Guru date now throws me into some confusion looks like I might end up doing the trip in a day, need to change a meeting with Zoe to accomodate this. It is achievable but I doubt Steve'll be able to make it which'll be a shame. Just hope James the Ned is up for giving me a hand shifting stuff. Might work out quite well in that I won't have to worry bout a cold house. Means on the 9th I'm gonna be at my most receptive for the single search environment stuff. Need to sort my survey over the weekend.
What one thing are you most looking forward to . . . 1. ...today? The first cup of coffee of the day. Naturally, what else is there to concern myself with, Arsenal play tomorrow and I just have bits of house to tidy as usual. 2. ...over the next week? Ella Guru at King Tut's Wah Wah Hut on the 8th, shifted from the 7th, might need to do a bit more plotting. Good music in a venue I've always fancied going to in Glasgow as a result of an excellent plot to use the collection of bits and pieces from Margaret's house in Bellshill as an excuse. 3. ...this year? Callum's educational needs being met effectively and an end to fighting with Knowsley LEA to get the job sorted. 4. ...over the next five years? The dreaded interview question. Digitizing my circulars would be fave at work..... 5. ...for the rest of your life? Happiness but not in a sing-a-long Ken Dodd sense.
Arsenal play Leeds in the third round of the cup tomorrow and the Guardian maintains no weakened squad as a treble of cup wins is possible. the romance of the cup eh! While on the subject of Arsenal, never that far away from my thoughts if truth be tol I see Scarborough have Thierry Henry's body double playing for them. Bizarre. Anyway the day is starting with a quick kitchen tidy up. Monst plans on going into town so I can do the living room etc while she's out the way. She's in work tonight so that'll be fun.
The more I put this scrapbook together the more aware of how alarming some of the images I'm drawn to are. Somethings have made me laugh because the exhibit a sick sense of humour but so far I've found nothing to laugh at with the work of Alan Schenechner who has some of the most thought provoking holocaust art I've seen. His morphed barcode that turns from barcode to camp internees is stunningly simple but such a complex concept.
In search of images for my scrapbook, I came across Cerysmatic Factory lovely Factory graphics. OK so Tony Wilson is a wanker but as a label it was always interesting not least graphically. Can't be bad. It all started wit a search to try and remind myself who Peter Saville is or at least what the hell his name is. This a bit of Leni Reifenstahl bits of Olympiad. Graphically that whole propaganda stuff of hers is rich even if the politics are shite.
Where is the Friday Five today, I go to the site all keyed up and ready to answer another bunch of random questions and they're still the last lot I answered. Guess that'll teach me to get too reliant on the thing to get me thinking on a Friday. Meanwhile work is dead, just run a search for someone over on the Wirral but other than that a day of tidying up I guess in anticipation of Monday when we interview for a library assistant. Tracy has done a stunning job leading on this. Good experience for her and saved me a whole heap of stuff to sort! Meanwhile I have 'Breaking God's Heart' playing at me, which is cool.
Idiot boy really screwed up food, I cremated the carrots, my second cremation of the meal, and totally forgot the spuds. In my defence I can offer nothing other than it's just a total FUBAR meal. Then the Crimbo argument kicks in, about the resurrection of the cremated pan that Monst wanted to lash. Trouble is as I generally cook I know haw short of pans I am. It's not that we don't have any pans it's just I always feel I could do with at least one more if not two. She's not a happy chappy, I'm in the dog house, but I have saved my pan. Me I just feel pissed off but relieved the expected row is out the way.
I whine about it every year but the triumverate of crimbo regulars, 'The Wizard of Oz', 'The Great Escape' and 'The Sound of Music' sucker me in every year. TV is shite and Cal hasn't seen Julie Andrews in action in Salzberg. I kind of hope every year there's gonna be an almighty cock up and we'll the 'The Sound Great Wizard Escape of Oz'. The trouble of course is it'll never happen, you'll never get 'How do you solve a problem like Steve McQueen' sung anywhere or even 'Follow the Yellow Brick Dick'. The other problem I have is with credibility, I have a limited experience of Nuns but it involved Sister Diedre the woman with the filthiest mind I've ever come across anywhere. The innocence of the Nuns in the 'Sound of Music' really don't make sense to me. I'm resorting to the Fursty Ferret in defence and as an escape.... In the meanwhile I learn I need to rechristen the The Rapidly Diminishing Ken Clare who it appears is no longer diminishing as rapidly. It may be the simple resort to Ken'll have to be adopted. I tend to try and avoid such a simple option most of the time, it's a habit I slipped into at UUC when gossiping with Rob Warrington in the coffee bars. Got to wonder does 'Keith Joseph' still terrorize the South Library at UUC.
Just came across New Years Day Dinner: Steak Pie and Trifle which suggests the Steak Pie bit comes from Margaret's childhood in the Gorbals.
Traditionally Monst has a steak pie on new years day. No bother plenty of cooking of the stew bit went on to get it going last night. Trouble was too much, my first culinary disaster of the year as I cremated it. As a result it's off the menu. Thought I had some more stewing steak in the freezer but no such luck. Instead I found some pork so given that we usually bulk the pie out with the application of sausages (a Margaret pan hang technique) we now have pig pie on the menu. Oh, well these things happen. Cal woke me this morning telling me it was time to get up because it was morning, boy was he right, 9.45 and I'm still asleep, unheard of since my student days when a 14.00 rising time on a Sunday was obligatory if only to avoid the church next door who not content with worshiping on a Sunday insisted on letting the rest of the planet knowing about it by broadcasting the service over one of those echoing tannoy systems from the 1950's with the trumpet speakers you get at Summer Fetes and dog shows that render the spoken word into a confusing mess of sounds. If I remember rightly they were Methodists (apologies if you weren't and you were toe washing or knee dipping baptists or some other sect but the principle holds). Other than that they were quite good neighbours, very quiet during the week, but not as quiet as the RUC when we lived next door to them. You can check out Portrush Presbyterians here and good luck to them.
Yes my feed is back online and so are my little existentialist squatters which is kinda cool. Mind you maybe I should ask Joseph O'Neil about having squatters next time I'm down the Margaret Thompson Medical Centre. I can sleep now and not worry about them being homeless.....
One and all. We phoned the folks in Norway, once again they are impatient buggers and have new years an hour earlier than us. The Kerplunk! and Junior Monopoly have gone down well apparently. Hootenanny is mighty fine but man Bobby Gillespie's showing looking his age in a raddled Iggy style. Meanwhile here fireworks explode annoyingly. My Existential squatters also seem to be suffering from the RSS blackout here. So once again happy new year, hope you have a good one.
Using the full Central Liverpool PCT helpdesk training. If it don't work, switch it off. Then switch it on again. Will this fix the site feed. I doubt it.
Now the blogs gone completely. Mind you it isn't alone. The Rapidly Diminishing Ken Clare has also gone walkabout. Preparing myself for the Jools Holland Hootenany. Always a delight and thing of wonder. Good to see Ray Davies honoured in the new year honours.
My feed seems to have died. As does my blog without a www in front. Most peculiar, hoping time is a healer.
Callum has taken to playing behind the living room curtains in an alcove it's perfect for him, he knows we're about but it affords him a hidey-hole where anything is possible in a parent free zone. Especially as we wouldn't dream of disturbing what seems to be a whole heap of imaginitive play involving the construction of some sort of airport. His Godfather Al'll be dead chuffed at this early interest in civil engineering. Our parental report is in with the LEA. What a relief that is! Foolish little me wandered into the Huyton Asda (used to be Dales when we lived over there) to get the ingredients for another trifle. It was packed, really you'd imagine the world is about to end, word that Huyton is a no-fly-zone is I think exagerated. However I do have a theory that the para-military outfits in Northern Ireland were a plot on the part of the education department to teach the alphabet, with the number of Orange lodges in Liverpool presumably the same theory applies over here. Dinner is sorted another no eat from Cal. Still I have the secret weapon of trifle up my sleeve for later... Blogger is still dead or at least according to status.blogger.com it's a DNS problem. That seems to be solved... Now to check my RSS feed which has had the odd prob...
Still need to work on this survey on the federated search options, it's getting to be a bit of a pain. Meanwhile the plotting goes on and we're off to Shenanigans for lunch with Steve. Then home via town and Knowsley LEA.......
It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey so an early wake up call. That and Hefner's 'We Love the City'. Back in work for what'll prove to be half a day, trade will not I suspect be brisk. So I'm off to fetch a coffee. My map from Wexford has arrived which is cool. The shop soiling appears to be a marginal coffee stain which is a bit of a relief.
Drafted the fresh parental report for the dratted Knowsley LEA, just need to print it now and drop it off with them tomorrow, well with Irene Williams. All done while watching the Welsh Great Escape which it must be said was fascinating. 70 German lags of the lam, why wasn't Steve McQueen in that one? Followed by the 'Land Girls'. Can't be bad. Feel knackered, heading off to bed, post another glass of port and some cheese and biscuits.
Get an enquiry via the Blackberry about retention of board papers from the Centre for Oncology at Clatterbridge. Clearly they ain't conversant with HSC(99)53 this doesn't exactly suprise me. Given the number of enquiries about circulars we've had from NHS Trusts I've long held that the Tooting Branch of the Mafia have the theory the best places to hide a stiff is in a hospital filing system, no bugger'll ever find it. So on my day off guess who I'm calling. Not that I'm whinging, it's always gratifying to be needed!
In a fit of madness I use a couple of EpGovernment services to apply for a new passport at the UK Passport Agency which isn't nearly as exciting as it sounds, yes I can fill in the form online, but they then print it out and send it to me so I can sign it and send them the dosh (42 quid it's a scandal, that's 4.20 a year for it's life span, now that divisions cheered me up about the cost... see Val the value of costing...) and photies. Kinda e then. Then flush with the experience and knowing the TV Licence is due I head to sort that at the TV Licencing Site which is done in it's entirity in five minutes and no wandering around in the cold.
Cal demanded pancakes for breakfast as we went to pick up Monst. feeling frankly knackered I said no, Monst said she'd make them. Result, happy Cal. Trouble was what Monst meant was that she intended me to make them she was just going to say yes to Callum. As a result she kinda got upset when I headed for a short kip on return home. Eventually half an hour later she's made the pancakes, they've eaten them and left me the mess to sort. On the plus side I feel less knackered and want a sausage sandwich. Cal wants some soausages to round off his brekkie, no probs, of course they come with the obligatory ketchup. Cal being the kind soul he is dragged me back the plate when hed finished and announced that he'd drawn a man on the plate in ketchup (Heinz if you want to get picky about it), not only this but it was me. This on top of yesterday's assertion that he didn't want me to be a chicken pie is a bit of a result. Unfortunately reflex action means I washed the plate before I could flog it to the Tate.
RefGrunt.com looks like it could turn into an interesting collaborative tool. Do I sign up or not is an interesting question that there is some internal debate about. Keep a watching brief on it and see what the conclusion is after a while. Alternatively known as I'm a lazy bastard and can't be arsed at the moment. It's this listless time of year, the new year ain't kicked in and Christmas works on a time lag. this is why I still don't know about the cottage in Wexford. Clearly the next working day on which I'll hear will be after new year. Another day of Cal sitting beckons. Yippee, I can hardly wait. As long as it don't involve watching 'Chicken Run' for the nth time again it'll be OK.
OK we lack the snow but the road outside our gaff is like an ice rink at the moment, how do I know? Next door just came home, swept round the corner and bounced off the kerb outside ours. No major damage done to anything other than pride! Gave me a shock though. Need to get the hoover out first thing. Can't now because it'll wake Cal, can't after we've picked up Monst because she'll need a few hours kip at the very least. Watching 'Western Front' which is good but a touch depressing. Manny Shinwell appearing now. Now Manny was a bit of a star.
Switch on 6 Music and there is Isolation from the festive Joy Division played just to cheer me up, which it must be said it does. Better to wash up to the sound of Ian Curtis than anything involving snow, Santa, Robins and/or Reindeer. Later I switch it on and on comes Jimi Hendrix. This is sound sounds and a delight. I love my DAB Radio, good music, crystal clear footie what more could I ask for. Disaster on the food front, the chicken failed to defrost so it's up to Ying Wah in Woolton and a quick takeaway later and the day is saved. Except I get back to find Cal fast akip. So it'll be a case of taking Monst to work and feeding Cal on return with yes you guessed it, sausages....
Flopping through the letter box today comes a letter from the LEA informing us that Cal's case is going to panel to see if he should receive a statutory assessment. As a result of the shite service and support we've received from the LEA in the past Mr. Suspicious here rings them up. To be fair Irene who's dealing with the case now is most helpful, puts up with me suggesting that there is an acute lack of strategic planning in the whole process and my rant at the state of NHS Speech and Language Therapy (on suggestion that community care involving Halewood Clinic a place Cal associates with negative things and never gives his best in as a result, resulted in the wonderful suggestion maybe he could go to a different clinic where there are no negative vibes... alternatively couldn't the LEA continue with provision at the Speech and Language Unit pending the result of the panel thus ensuring continuity of care etc.). She also tells me we have an end of week deadline to get in our amended Parental View Form, in which she helpfully suggests I let them know in writing how piss poor their strategic planning is. I go back to the envelope they've sent to find the form, no form, I re-read the letter only to find the School Attendance Improvement Officer is going to call us to make an appointment to give us the form. Yeah, right! They're really likely to do that in an appropriate time scale. More to the point, what the fuck is a School Attendance Improvement Officer to do with this, his attendance is not an issue. OK so maybe they haven't got the staff to send someone else but at least call them something else when you send them round, something cuddly and warm like 'Council Fuckwit Who Ain't Gonna Be a Bit of Use' springs to mind but don't make me feel like some sort of parent who is behind repeated truancy on the part of my kid. Here endeth another rant on Knowsley LEA.
'Four foot from his tail' oh, how as a kid Lonnie Donnegan would show me that my parents had a sense of humour beyond trad jazz. The states had rock'n'roll what did the UK respond with Skiffle. Why, post war austerity, you couldn't buy a bass for love nor money, unless you knew an 8 foot spiv who could hide one under his coat, instead you used a tea chest a broom handle and a bit of string. Oddly enough these were all the contents of a boy scouts pocket so you could just mug one of the buggers. At least that's the sociological explanation of Skiffle. Personally I think it's because we're just bloody stupid this side of the Atlantic. Why all the Skiffle rubbish? Principally because the unsung heroes of the day today are the bin men who've just emptied an overflowing bin and taken away more cardboard than we wanted to keep around the place. I can now start filling the bin again. All this on our normal bin day too. A rare event congrats to Knowsley MBC (not my fave people at the best of times but their bin men are stars). Meanwhile I listen to 'Dear Catastrophe Waitress' as Cal has another 'Chicken Run' run through. He's getting involved and flapping his arms and making chicken noises at the moment.....
Start a two day stint of full time Cal sitting as Monst is back at work. Trick is how to keep him quiet or how to find things to do away from the house so he can be as noisy as he likes and not wake up his mother. No plans for today as of yet. Once more we watch 'Chicken Run' a good film but not on a cycle of a daily basis. So while he watches I'll hide in the kitchen and start planning where I want to go in Ireland. Wexford Tourist Board to hit then. As a lover of Crannogs etc the Irish National Heritage Park is a must see. It's odd but I really don't do pre-history and ancient history but as the years go by the more I get fascinated by that whole area. I also plan on dragging the folks to the National 1798 Centre particularly as it's the only bit of Irish history I've ever made a formal study of, indeed it was the subject of my first ever history essay at UUC.
Er..Discovery Sheet 77 from Ireland's Ordnance Survey purchased for 2.50 with a slightly shop-soiled cover. The big question is what have people perusing the map done to it. Now if it had been something slightly more perverse I'd have been worried, but a map of Wexford.... I don't want to think. Cal's in bed, same rules as last night, if he steps over the threshold of the bedroom that's it, straight in his own bed and no more 'Jungle Book' to watch.
The shoe shopping went remarkably smoothly, Cal's feet have increased by 1 size, the choice of black shoes in his size was limited to two pairs, he picked the pair he wanted. Job done courtesy of what used to be George Henry Lee's but is now Lewis' or something like that. Either way it's instant Heelas for me. All part of that weird entity that is the John Lewis Parnership. Came away form the bookshop with Kevin Sampson's 'Clubland' (a signed copy no less), Lonely Planet's 'Ireland' (the Portrush entry is OK but a bit piss poor) and the OS Ireland's 'Complete Road Atlas of Ireland' in preparation in part for the trip to Wexford. All good stuff. In the meanwhile Monst came away with the new Patricia Cornwell and a Scottish travel guide as we oddly enough toy with the idea of a trip way up north in the summer. All of which makes the Rapidly Diminishing Ken Clare's discovery of Notes from a North Sea Island incredibly useful. Then home to homemade chicken soup (leftovers from yesterday shoved in a pot with the inevitable peral barley, a couple of onions, bit of pepper, couple of stock cubes, bit of water and a carrot) for Monst and myself and the regular sausages for Cal. Afternoon spent sleeping and stuff for Monst, Cal watching 'Chicken Run' again and me working out how the hell to get from Dublin Airport to this cottage in Murrintown (bit of local history here from the local school), providing it's available.
Cal is due a new pair of shooes. Great, not being Imelda Marcos shoe shopping is not my fave thing. Shoe shopping for Cal doubly so. Time ti get dressed and head into town. Still I can sugar the pill with a little book shopping and use of my Waterstones voucher.
