....but I couldn't eat a whole one!

Well, its early Christmas present time, but I did not realise how naughty I have been this year. Number two daughter has just announced she is with child, and I am much too young to be a grandfather!!

So come July, the house will be echoing to the sound of baby stuff, Maxine will be delighted as she likes babies, and it gives me an excuse for a barbecue. So she is the boss for the first three or four years, then I can take over when 'it' gets interesting.

We actually knew before Emma did, as Maxines mate Donna, the spook, sent Maxine a text asking how Emma was. Maxine replied in true clairvoyant speak, 'you tell me' when back came the answer 'pregnant with twins'. Well the scan has so far only shown one, unless the terrors were playing hide and seek with each other already.

Lee, the international vocalist, is already working on a new set, I can imagine songs like A Child is Born, Baby Driver, Hey Baby, and Wild Child will be included, although Baby What a Big Surprise by Chicago should slot into the playlist somewhere.

I am not sure what I am going to do with all the stuff I store in the Wendy House though, maybe its a good excuse to get another shed!

Up up and away, hic!

I have noticed a few comments starting to be posted against my ramblings, which is very gratifying. One regular poster, Martin, is my brother-in-law, who has recently become a snow bird, moving from Boston to Delray just North of Miami.

His last comment was to enquire how old the cuddly birds were as referred to on the second day of Christmas. Well Martin, about 32, which is far too old for you!!!

I am sure the family will all be looking at how they can get down there for a holiday come 2009, although hopefully the dollar will have recovered a bit by then to give them some spending money.

Best way to get to Miami is, of course, by air, and I have been flying a lot recently as I commute between various homes and Edinburgh. Recently I have noticed the airways equivalent of the nutter on the bus. That for those of you not familiar with the Billy Connolly story, relates to the hobo style character who gets on the bus talking to himself, and everybody shrivels up as small as they can and whisper to themselves, 'please no, don't sit next to me'

In airline terms, I just seem to attract the selfish idiot who insists on reclining their seat violently onto my knees even though its a 45 minutes journey, and if he moved up one row, he could have them all to himself.... my coffee goes everywhere I huff and puff, stick my knees in his back, but all to no avail. I remember reading once that an inventor in America was trying to design a clip you could put on the seat in front to stop it reclining, but it worked intermittently so it never caught on.

Never mind, its the season of goodwill, so I grin and bear it, in the knowledge that tonight is the staff party, when all bad memories will be dispersed in a cloud of alcohol induced euphoria. Make mine a pint please!

Tralalalala lalalalal

A vicar in Walsall has written a new version of the The Twelve Days of Christmas as follows :

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me...
12 soldiers serving
11 lottery losers
10 hoodies hollering
Nine single mothers
Eight AIDS victims
Seven shoppers struggling
Six carers caring
Five repossessings
Four calling conmen
Three starving children
Two addicts shaking
And a poor homeless refugee

While all is not well in the world, it does seem a bit gloom and doom, so here is my alternative which I hope gives a balanced view. It also scans a bit better!!

The Twelve Days of Christmas Revisited:
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me...
12 soldiers serving (I like that one)
11 Royals boozing
10 Ballroom dancers
Nine judges judging
Eight lotto winners
Seven banks a merging
Six Poles decamping
Five cycling golds
Four pints of pride
Three curries
Two cuddly birds
And a brand new colour TV ( 42" flatscreen and heavily discounted of course!)

Ho ho ho!!

Double bubble and a cuppa tea luv.......

Heston Blumenthal, of snail porridge fame, if turning his hand to the menu of the Little Chef chain, and i sense a disaster coming on. The red sign of the Little Chef has been a beacon for me and the family on our many trips along the A303, A38 or A50, and always under the beacon, like a crock of gold at the end of a rainbow, is the renowned all day breakfast, the highlight of which are the saute potatoes.

Now Heston knows alot more about food than ever I do, but I think he needs to apply the Honda principle to the all day breakfast. if it aint broke don't fix it! The thought of it changing and by so doing sacrificing the tatties and fried bread is a thought I cannot bear. Its the best way to eat a lump of lard, known to man.

I always remember staying at the Gleneagles Hotel some years ago, and was disappointed that their breakfast was not made to order, rather it was kept in trays under those ghastly heat lamps. we were quite later down, so had pretty miserable dried up fayre, which prompted a letter to the general Manager on my return home.

'Sir' I indicated ' I would consider an establishment such as yours well able to provide a breakfast worthy of your status. On the last occasion I visited, it came a poor second to the Little Chef.' Needless to say the offer of a complimentary week in the hotel did not materialise, just a standard acknowledgement of the letter. If the Little Chef start offering snail porridge on the menu, then Gleneagles has no chance!

...on the day nothing new happened.....

All my regular readers deserve an update, and I apologise for the lack of stories over the last few weeks, so here goes......

Work in Edinburgh is no longer fun, the client is over aggressive and arrogant, with demands for 24 x 7 working being pushed forward. The poor bastards who work there do just what they are asked as they are looking over their shoulder expecting banner headlines highlighting job cuts, any moment. One does have certain sympathy for them. Our team are going down like flies, with sickness, stress, and general pissed-offness. we are all waiting for the 'you will be working Christmas Day won't you' comment....in your dreams pal!!!

The housing market remains fairly quiet in Chis, although I have had a couple of joker offers recently. I can't complain as I would probably try it on myself if I was a buyer at the moment. The mortgage rate reduction should help people moving forward, but I can't see much happening until March now really.

Other than that, I am expecting the worst at Twickenham on Saturday, but as always, the game tends to be the low point of the day, and this one will probably be no different.

So thats where we are, my car was not recovered so Iam now sorting a new one of those, which will give me something positive to do, when I have the time to drive it...stay tuned, I will try to be more frequent in the build up to the festive season.

Prunus pendula

After a few days away with 'the lads' playing golf in Portugal, I was faced with another 50th birthday at the weekend. They seem to be coming round like 18th and 21st did all those years ago. Great excuses for a few beers with people you generally see all the time.....anyway it allowed us to stay in a new hotel attached to the Talbot Inn in Ripley. Very nice it was too as it was only a short cab ride to the restaurant where the gig was being held. The present theme at these things is often odd, and on this occasion it was 'old gits' gear, anything from slippers and a pipe, to incontinence pants and pile reduction cream!!

At one party we went to everybody had brought salt and pepper sets for the poor victim. His mum and dad did not see the funny side of it!!

Ripley is a pleasant little village very close to the RHS gardens at Wisley so it was a perfect excuse to wander down there and have a look around. The weather became a bit inclement while we were in the new glasshouse, so we took the opportunity to dive into the library and do a bit of research on one of my relatives, John Weathers.

John was a bit of a gardening character, and a market gardener in Isleworth in Middlesex, and for eight or so years he was assistant secretary to the RHS, when the Reverend W Wilks was secretary. It was he who discovered the Shirley poppy, which was the emblem of the team I used to play rugby for in Croydon. Some co-incidence eh.

John left the RHS under a bit of a cloud according to his obituary, as he released an incorrect list of Gold medal winners to the press, to much embarrassment. John also did not suffer fools gladly and was outspoken in many areas of the gardening community, he was however much admired for his illustrations, gardening books and knowledge of French, Latin and German, from which he translated a number of gardening novels. When he died suddenly it was considered a great loss to the horticultural landscape of West London.

I was unaware that John had a brother who shared his talents. Patrick was curator at the Manchester Botanical Gardens in Old Trafford until it closed. He then returned to Isleworth to work along side his older brother.

I am sure there is much more to find out about these two particular characters, but for now its good to know my gardening interests are strongly embedded in the Weathers family tree.

I just said 'Blow the Bloody Doors Off'

Have you ever got out of bed in the morning and wondered where you have parked the car? Well that happened to me today, except I had not moved the car for three days, and it was not outside where I thought I had left it.
'That's strange' , I thought, I am sure it was there last night. So some entrepreneur of low moral fibre had tea leaved it for purpose or purposes unknown.
It will be used in a ram raid, or just driven round and dumped when it runs out of fuel said the local old bill I on the other hand had conjured up the image of it being stolen to order and already being resprayed, getting fitted with new number plates and shipped off to Cuba to star in a new James Bond film.

It had a bit of stuff in the boot, and cd's and electrical gismo's, but as I am off to Portugal tomorrow for a spot of golf, my passport and most of my equipment was luckily safely indoors.

So if any of you see a 5 Series blue BMW sticking out of a shop front near you, it could be mine!

Gone with the Wind

Chicago was a very interesting place. I don't know the middle of the States well at all so it was interesting to have a chance to visit. My work colleagues and most of the people i met spoke with a fairly light accent which was unexpected, and contrasts strongly with the y'all accents of the deep South.

The city itself is dominated by the Sears building and the nearly completed trump tower, which will relegate the Hancock into third place in the high rise stakes. otherwise to the North is the vast stretch of Lake Michigan, and elsewhere the endlessly flat plains of Illinois and Wisconsin.

Its called the Windy City, because, many think, its so exposed to the weather that it is always blowy. Not true, its called the Windy City because everybody talks bull!!!

Nowhere is this more profound than at the junction of Rush and Diversity, an area of bars, restaurants and blues clubs, known locally as the Viagra Triangle. Its where silicone implants meets the grey pound. The police patrol the area in a low key style which our man on the beat could learn from, and everybody is there for a good time, but engage somebody of either sex in conversation and its spot the brain cell time!!

The work progressed pretty well but I managed to find time for a bit of sightseeing and added to my expansive collection of golf clubs while on a shopping trip. I was hugely disappointed with Macy's, but Filenes basement continues to throw up some bargains in a way which puts TK Maxx to shame.

I used to collect Monopoly sets from various country's, and have the original USA version based on Atlantic City, but I noticed in a games shop i visited that there is now a baseball version, an American Football version and popular TV shows like Cheers, Friends and The Simpsons all have their own. Its definitely a case of brand dilution for the benefit of capitalism. Pity,I can't see myself passing Go with any of those versions.

Wherever I hang my hat......

My alter ego, Scoop, aka Dick, has written an interesting article on the housing market, on his blog, here. I feel I am a prime example of the blinkered house seller who thinks the whole price crash will pass him by. Yes I put it on at a lumpy price, but I expected people to be willing to haggle, but in London that does not seem to be the case.

I started the blog 18 months ago as a chronicle of my house move, and unfortunately the whole experience has been blighted by the worldwide economic disaster which commenced with the collapse of the US subprime housing market, embraced the failure of Northern Rock and well, the rest is history.

I can relate to the fact offers are few and far between, and yes, I turned down an offer which I would jump at accepting now, but, hindsight, and all that....... so I still have a house to sell, and await the chance to negotiate a price with somebody willing to at least make an offer.

I am currently in Chicago, and it is interesting to get the natives view of the world. First they don't see a housing problem, and second, they don't see the world economic challenges as anything they have contributed to, but then the man on Main Street USA has always had a narrow view of the world.

I was surprised, however, that the rescue package put together by the smoking gun, George Bush, was initially rejected by the Senate and has only today been passed by the House of Representatives. I suspect they are afraid that they may become a third world country themselves if they are not careful. Their reluctance to protect the rank and file American citizens though was something I thought they would jump at the chance to do.

Still its all sorted now, lets just hope our Gordon has made sure we get a fair percentage of the $700bn to regenerate some interest in Chiswick real estate. Fingers crossed.

Jersey Royals

I was in Jersey at the end of last week for a friends 50th birthday. He had arranged a team of ten Londoners to play a team from the Island over two days for the Wyder Cup, a statement on our expanding waistlines I suspect.

The rounds were played over Le Moye and The Meiolles courses in jersey, under beautiful blue skies. The first day was a triumph for the London team as we held a 11.5-3.5 lead. We were followed round the course for a few holes by Ian Woosnam, the ex-Ryder Cup captain, but he quickly disappeared further up the course after on of our higher handicap golfers hit his buggy with a wayward approach shot!

After a dinner and prizes in the clubhouse we were entertained by one of the home side players who was a bit of a magician and showed us a few of his party pieces. As an aside, I went out with a magician once, when I drove her home she would put her hand on my knee and I would turn into a layby!!!

Day two saw Jersey fight back, as they pulled in a few different players in a battle to close the gap. It worked, but not quite well enough, as they beat us 9-6 but the Wyder Cup became the property of the London team.

El Tel, the birthday boy, had a great two days, and had it been my 50th i would have looked back fondly at the event. I hope he does two.

The boys returned to London Saturday morning so I took advantage and flew SWMBO down for a long weekend. The weather continued to be fine, so we saw most of the island, including the Durrell zoo which has the brief for breeding endangered species, and the beaches of the North coast. We saw sea swimming races, wind sailing and para surfing, together with the traditional sand sculptures for which St Helier, the capital, is famous. All in all a good run ashore, and a continuation of our island focused 2008.

Zimmer frame sport

So back to Edinburgh and I find that the City is embracing the World Golden Oldies rugby festival. This is an event close to my heart, as my club, Twickenham, were one of the hosts when the event visited England in 1989. The Edinburgh event is the first time since then it has been back to the UK mainland.

Gullivers Travels continue to be the travel agent of choice so it was good to meet the 'management' again. Gavin Hastings was the main celeb front man and it was good to see him kilted up on the initial parade.

The organisers had been quite smart with the opening ceremony as they used the stage and seating for the tattoo, and then marched the teams down the Royal Mile, behind a pipe band. As my project at work is Chicago based I thought this team particularly interesting, but there were also old favourites from Japan, The Fuwaku, from the States, The Washington Poltroons, Mystic River and The Jersey Jets, as well as the usual large contingent from Australasia. Teams were also there from Russia, Poland, Italy and the Pacific Isles, so a really good mix. I was unable to infiltrate the opening party, but judging by the state of guests in the hotel the next morning, it was a blast.

The rugby took place over three days, and the traditional dress code had been modified slightly. Up to 60 years old, black shorts are now worn, unless you do not want to be tackled, in which case red is the mode. Red are worn by all 60-64 year olds, 65-69 is gold and 70-84 is purple. Any older players are then presented with 'committee' shorts to wear. The Japanese have a number of players who have been awarded committee colours. Anybody not involved in tackling can run a maximum of 25 yards before releasing the ball or if fronted by a player with arms out stretched, must immediately pass.

its all good fun, referees occasionally score and with the biggest clubhouse in the world being erected at Murrayfield, the traditional social aspects have been maintained......now where did I put those special shorts of mine!

When the Boat comes in.......

The second first was for me to have a run ashore in Newcastle, something I managed last weekend while we went up to see our oldest daughter Rebecca. She actually lives in Hinton near Jesmond, but its all Newcastle really, so we stayed in the 'Stag and Hen' Quality Inn in the centre of town.

To be honest i was a bit disappointed at first, there were no lads with their shirts off, and very few lasses were of head turning standard, well not for their looks anyway!! Fair enough though I thought I would give it a few hours and see how things developed. So where better to get a right eye full of Newcastle evening entertainment than in the famous Bigg Market, which was handily placed right by our billet.

I expected something a lot bigger, with no pun intended, like a market place befitting one of the biggest cities in England, but actually the Bigg market is quite a small area from which lanes and alleyways lead off. Sure there are plenty of bars to be found and I was quite surprised that an old caching inn and a few other 'heritage' style pubs had still survived in the area. Chains dominate, of course, which means, gassy beer, lager and bottles but nonetheless, we found Timothy Taylors, Bass, and Youngs Ordinary on tap.

The Friday night was strange though, it was like you had stepped through four time zones compared to Liverpool for example. at 6pm the whole place was full of people out on the lash, maybe its a straight from work thing, as the hen and stag groups did not start appearing until later, and by midnight everything seemed to go quiet.......really handy for sleep, like, but not what I envisaged.

Saturday we did the tourist bit, Angel of the North, Gateshead riverside, the bridges, Jesmond, Whitley Bay and Tynemouth before heading back for a quick change and out again.

Saturday night was the posh bit of town near the quayside, and the four hour time warp seemed to have been regressed, as the town woke up much later. I don't know what got me onto Brandy Alexanders, but hey ho, I survived. The Toon Army were fairly subdued given The Arse had spanked thiers in the early evening, and mention must got to the stag party in Hawaiian shirts who we spotted throughout the day and evening, definitely the best dressed stag of the weekend.

We popped into Ainwick Castle on the way back to Edinburgh to brush up on our Quidditch skills, view the dungeons and watch he bird of prey demonstration, Hedwig sadly did not show up, and that was the weekend over. It makes a weekend in London a bit dull, but the mighty Bees won yesterday so all was not too bad.

Pole dancers win Eurovision contest

Well they would, wouldn't they.......

The Tufty Club

I have had a couple of firsts recently. One occurred while we were at 'Camp Pete' I saw my first red squirrel, hopping along the fence of the farm. It is something of a mystery why I have never seen one before, given that my in-laws live very close to the Red Squirrel reserve in Formby near Southport. The reserve there is one of the most famous in the Country but is under severe threat at the moment as the grey squirrel population is starting to infiltrate the reserve. 70 or so reds have been found dead in the last month , as rangers struggle to eradicate the greys.

Local residents are required to report sightings of greys but I suspect as the population changes and houses gain new owners, the messages are not always passed on. I know I am barred by our kids from shooting the ones in our garden, as they are 'cute' . Rather a dead cutey than the eradication of one of the most precious natural species.

...because we aaarh!

Loads of things to report, but so little time, so lets start with 'Camp Pete'. Pete was unable to attend the very successful 'Camp Dick' in Yorkshire last year, so he decided to host his own. Luckily my mate Sham has a cottage near to Petes farm so we were again snuggled in the warm while the rest of the crew pitched tents and did the nature thing......

It was an action packed weekend though. after a Friday evening meal at Petes farmhouse, and a mega breakfast there the following day, we headed for Ullswater for a short, flat walk, designed to be acceptable to my dear wife, who struggles with hills a bit......well, if this was flat, I would hate to do a hilly one!!

So suitably knackered we returned to prepared for another excellent slap up meal at 'Camp Pete' cooked by the host and his family, which made us all read for bed and dreams of the daunting task ahead on the Sunday....

Yes, its village raft race day, and we have put an entry in.......Sham and Stu are dab hands at knots so it takes them and Katie no time at all to lash four oil drums and some wood together, add a flag and away you

.......only problem was it needed five people to drive it for optimum performance, and the lads had decided to enter their own raft, and 'off the record' Dick was late arriving......anyway, we gave it our best shot, and came a creditable fifth, beaten only by rubber tyres, which aren't really rafts are they?

The village then had a b-b-q and a duck race which finished the weekend off in style, a defo good camp......

Everybody, love somebody

I have embraced the Edinburgh Festival this last week and its been a fun time. A few of us from the team went to see 'The Blues Brothers Banned', a rip roaring 60 minutes of classic songs from the film plus a few more added in for good measure. They added humour, as they searched for the cowbell, and showed a range of musical and athletic skills which were top class.

The two of us who try to go to the gym most nights decided we should join their ranks as they were running up the aisles playing guitar, leaping speaker stacks and jumping around keyboards.

As well as Jake and Elwood there were two doo wap girls, each of whom belted out their own solo, a trumpet and sax, two guitars, two keyboards and a drummer, eleven people in all. The lead guitar probably had a better voice than the two front men.

We then hit the town and went for a curry in a well regarded local restaurant. The food was a disappointment, very bland and small portions, so we won't try that again.Luckily the bar over the road stayed open so we staggered back to the hotel in the wee small hours.

The festival continues this week with more fringe acts, and then the Mela and book festival take over until the end of the month, after which hotel room should come back to their normal prices!!

Still its a sound place to be, I just wish it would stop raining, its been bucketing down for weeks. i feel sorry for the tourists as the City is very easy to walk round, but there are still a few bars we have yet to visit which we can take shelter in...hic!

A Little Something for the Weekend

Now there is a phrase to bring a smile to the faces of the older generation,A phrase which has been mouthed by barbers to their clientele for many years. I must admit though, that the young busty wench who cuts my hair in Scouseland has yet to mutter the phrase. She is more likely to say would you like a tissue sir, another phrase which taken out of context would indicate that extras have been provided alongside the hair cut.


Now where is this all leading you may be asking. Well actually it all about my experience yesterday in Boots the Chemist. There I was standing in line behind a bit of fit, when she asked for the morning after pill. Blimey I thought there is a question you don't hear every day of the week, but it just went to confirm one of the greatest lines I have ever heard at the cinema.


The Likely Lads, Bob and Terry, in the film of the same name were on holiday in Gosforth and looking for a bit of action. The weather is awful and Bob is getting a bit down in the dumps. 'E, we will never cope off on a day like this' he said. 'Don't be so sure' says Terry with a glint in his eye, ' lets go to Boots, there are always women in Boots'

Its as true today as it was then.......now must go and get my haircut!

Don't get shirty with me matey......

I am concerned about a worrying trend which is very evident here in Edinburgh, although Ii have seen symptoms of it all over the Country. it started many years ago as a youthful trend, but is now being embraced by men of all ages.

Why do they wear their shirt outside their trousers?

I have been analysing this to try to find an answer.......OK so the world population are becoming obese, and this particular mode of dressing may well hide the beer belly in the manner of a maternity gown for men. We do tend to be more slothful these days as well, so are we just too lazy to tuck ourselves in?

I am not aware of any major fashion advertising campaign which has extolled the virtue of free flowing shirts, and no iconic figures who started the trend. So all in all I am at a loss to explain it.

I, for one, just cannot embrace the style, and continue to spread my shirt fabric over my tum as tightly as it will go........the Buddha would be a good marketing name for that sort of style, after all my body is a temple!!

I'll get you Butler

Edinburgh is a tremendously impressive City. Its road are flecked with granite chips which make the surfaces resolute and durable, its road system in the centre is laid out in a grid , with the Royal Mile linking the castle to Holyroyd House. Alleyways and paths wind between shops and bars, and the natives scurry about like ants on a rose bush.

It is rather sad, therefore, to witness the devastation which is surrounding the construction of the new tram system.

Many cities have embraced the idea of introducing trams as a fast and convenient mode of transport. Croydon was a building site for years as they struggled to join the high society of Wimbledon Village with the rather less appealing New Addington council estate, via the city centre, Purley and Merton. In their case, however, there was no heritage to protect. Manchester managed to integrate their system with little or no change to the architecture and tradition of the City, and it has been a huge success.

Edinburgh, however, is suffering. The aforementioned roads are being dug up because all the main services run down the centre of the road, and this is where the tram lines are to go. Consequently the services are being moved to the kerb side, roads are being blocked off or made one-way, and worst of all ,a number of old traditional buildings, pubs, houses and so on, are being demolished.

They are only building one line at present. It will run from Leith in the North to the airport, via Princes Street and Haymarket where it will follow the railway lines. There are already worries though that the funding will run out and the tram line will terminal at Gogarburn, about a mile short......

Still when its built they will be able to illuminate the trams at Christmas like they do in Blackpool, and I can't wait until the rugger chaps at Murrayfield see how many people they can have hanging off the side.

Sweatie socks

Its been a while since my last post, a situation which has been created by the need to do some real work at last. On Monday, just past, I was in London, got a phone call in the morning, and promptly ended up in Edinburgh where I am likely to be for the remainder of the year........that said the client has yet to sign the contract, so it might all change again shortly.

The travel up here has been a bit stressful though, missed my flight last week due to roadworks overruns on the M4, then today I was stuck on the tarmac for 2 hours as Edinburgh was fog bound and we were restricted from taking off.

Still I am here now, and this week its the warm up to the Edinburgh Festival. Its the jazz and blues week until Sunday when the main festival and the comedy fringe kicks in. Hotels are upping their prices, but we are well catered for so hopefully it will be a bit of a giggle.

The only trouble with proper work is that four day weekends become a thing of the past, oh well, just have to get used to it I guess.....

Hello ello ello

Our cruise was part of SHMBO significant birthday celebrations, and was preceded by a bit of a bash at the house up North. Lee J Harris, international vocalist, banged out a couple of live sets in the garden, and that prompted a 22;:30 visit from the local constabulary. Two WPCs turned up to say they had had a few complaints about the noise. Now what saddo complains about a bit of noise at that time of night on a Saturday eh! and what does it say about the area when they send two WPCs round. The outdoor activity terminated at about midnight, and a great time was had by all.

Contrast our plod experience in Oxton, with what then happened in Chiswick two nights later. In Oxton there must have been instant attendance for a noise pollution problem which is actually a council matter. In Chis SHMBO and I are strolling back from a libation on the High Road at about 23:00, when we notice a shop door open. Hmmm we think, bit strange, so I venture in shout a bit and find nobody there. So what do Ido, its an interior designers and full of good stuff, loot it or call the Bills?

Of course, like a good citizen, I call the local cop shop. 'We will get a car to you soonest' they say. 30 minutes later I ring back to say I can't wait any longer and they indicate it is not a priority and they have no cars available anyway. Luckily when we popped in today the owner indicated noithing went missing and thanked us for our trouble.

Interesting aspect of the way the two constabularies work. I wonder if somebody else had rung and reported me as an intruder on the premises how quicly the twos and blues would have been there.

Evening all!

Island Escape

We have just returned from a cruise around the Eastern Mediterranean and the Tyrrhenian Sea, taking in Majorca, Menorca, Sicily, Corsica and Sardinia, quite a little island hop in fact. Given we have already been to Cyprus this year, and plan to visit Jersey in September, this must be the year of the island.

Our plan was to visit Corsica and Sardinia with a view to seeing if they were worth a longer one centre trip, and we both thought they were. Sardinia is the second largest Mediterranean island after Sicily and Corsica is the most mountainous. Both have wonderful beaches and very picturesque towns and villages. The food reflects the French influence in Corsica and the Italian in Sardinia. All in all a good time was had by all.

Unfortunately we did not find our property sold on our return, but there still appears to be interest, so we have started to look around at the apartment market again to see whats on offer. I was going to say flat market, but then that's what it is innit?

SuperLambBanana

Well the Liverpool Capital of Culture team have at last made a difference which all of joe public can enjoy.

125, two metre tall replicas of Taro Cheizo’s iconic SuperLambBanana sculpture have been painted, decorated and adorned by local artists, schools and community groups, to create a free to view, open air, public art spectacular.

The sculptures will only be on display until 25 August after which they will be auctioned off, and there is a web site dedicated to them or read the wikipedia entry.....and follow this map link This is a picture of the original.......

Baaaabara

Well I, for one, am delighted that the alleged sexual antics of the England rugby team in new Zealand have been dropped. The old adage, 'what goes on tour, stays on tour' seems to be put at risk by the increase in kiss and tell stories which involve women who do not understand the moral high ground needs to be maintained.

That said, I can't help feeling that if David Strettle had had Ugandan discussions with a sheep, the new Zealand public would never have let it drop!

Pink is the new white

On Monday evening my son and his fiance, and my brother-in-law and son
ventured to Lords for the 20/20 game Middlesex v Surrey.

It is the biggest closest derby in cricketing terms and was supported by a good size crowd......the Middlesex players and club are supporting Breast Cancer charities this season so the kit and surroundings were coloured to reflect the theme.

Surrey batted first, but it soon became clear that Middlesex have become a very professional 20/20 side, and after restricting Surrey to 141, there was never a doubt that the youngsters in the home side would knock the runs off....they duly obliged. They now stand top with 4 wins out of 4. Four of their squad are 21 or under, Malan, Godleman, Housego and Morgan, and Smith and Shah have been missing recently through injury and England duties respectively.

There then followed a bit of celebrity hunting, and Matthew was luck enough to be caught with Andrew Strauss, while Jack Rowell and Paul Allott were seen in the outfield at close of play.

Baby boomers

I have always been intrigued by the way my life has centred on West London, given the various detours it has taken.

I was born in West Middlesex Hospital,on the Isleworth/Brentford border, and first went to school close by. I then moved to Plymouth, returned to London for further education (some would say that was a waste of time). After living in North, South and West London, I finally ended up living not a mile from my place of birth. Full circle in fact.

Now I notice that my place of birth, the very maternity ward in which I popped out into the world, is being knocked down, presumably to allow the Primary Care Trust (PCT) to earn some money for new and better facilities. Some of my oldest childhood memories are also associated with the old Victorian blocks which are fast being transformed to a pile of rubble.

I had my adenoids and tonsils removed in the late '50s, and remember being positioned next to the fish tank. It was my job to switch its light out every night when I went to sleep. The few times I forgot, I was given a right telling off by the ward sister. I also remember being dressed in a cowboy outfit to go down to theatre, as part of a cunning plan to take the fear out of the procedure and make it seem like a good old adventure. The next few days I had nothing but ice cream and jelly, so it can't have been all bad.

Now where did I leave that pen I was just using, and what were the names of those people I was with last light? Funny thing that memory.

Uncle Tom Cobley and all.....

I spent the weekend in Devon, visiting my mum in Plymouth, and do a bit of other stuff. Some of that stuff involved meeting 'off the record' Dick and his wife Gill at the Leaping Salmon in Horrabridge. It was a very pleasant luncheon, and Dick was keen to point out his two page spread featuring his Mongolian adventure, that was prominent in the FT colour supplement of the day. If only the locals had realised they had a prominent feature writer and Jack Rowell in the same pub together, we might have had free drinks all afternoon!!

The trip to the pub wax precluded by a trip to Widdecombe, and that proved to be a bit more of an adventure than planned.

Last Saturday was the Dartmoor Discovery Ultra marathon, a 32, yes 32, mile road race through the country lanes between Princetown, Ashburton, Widdecombe and back to Princetown. The winner did the race at an average speed of 7 minutes per mile, in a time of 3 hours 45 minutes, amazing when you consider there were not too many flat bits of the course.

It was not possible to close the route to traffic, as it was really the only route around Dartmoor, so to avoid the runners and the vehicles coming in the opposite direction was a bit of a mission. There were no fatalities though I am pleased to report.

Will I be entering next year? No I don't think so, I am struggling to be fit for my September 10K.

A sting in the tail

I have just finished reading 'The Empty Chair' by Jeffrey Deaver. It is not in the 'Vanished man' class but not bad. It features a character referred to as the insect boy, who is at one with the small creatures of his environment. He uses references from insect based research books to theorise that if human life were to become extinct, the earth would survive quite happily without them, loose all the insects, however, the we would all be doomed.

With this in mind, I have been alarmed to read of the problems currently facing the world bee population. Bees matter. They make honey which I thoroughly enjoy, and the fertilise many of our garden flowers and fruits, but the bumblebee population is falling dramatically.

Some of the decline is due to insecticide usage in agriculture, but more worrying is that they are now under attack by parasites. Government assistance in isolating and eradicating the diseases which affect them has been cut to £1m, a reduction of 20%, just at the time it is most needed. researchers have been laid off and inspectors sacked.

There are 270,000 hives in Britain. Last Winter one in five colonies perished. Half of Italy's 50 billion honey bees died last year, and Colony Collapse Disorder has wiped out 2 million colonies across America and billions of bees worldwide.

We need bees, just as the insect boy said we do, and he is not alone. Einstein was said to have calculated that if bees disappear off the surface of the globe, mankind would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more life. I think the government need to reverse their funding policy soonest.

You've all done very well......

My cousin Mike retired on Friday, and not with early retirement or any other concessions. He is 65 and has done a life of work stretching back to early sixties. There are not too many people left like that, so all credit to him.

I remember he worked early on for Hoover, and whether with them or another firm, he used to visit us in Plymouth when he was called upon to work in HM Dockyard at Devonport. He then took a late degree at MARJON when it was in Chelsea, and then worked for Davy Engineering and other such companies as one got taken over or absorbed by another.

They gave him a good send-off although I think he would quite like to carry on with them, as the future must be a bit of a challenge when you have had the work ethic drilled into you for all those years.

People today are more fortunate to have 'work/life balance' programmes which mean you can work from home, do four day weeks, or even three if it suits, and take sabbaticals to explore some long lost hobby or interest you wish to resurrect.

He is mad about cars, and knowledgeable about most things so I am sure a niche will present itself to him, I did notice the Boy Scout organisation are looking for a volunteer successor for Peter Duncan the Chief Scout, when he steps down next year, otherwise he will just have to become a professional sports watcher and follow various teams around the World. I could get used to that.

Gentlemen that reminds me......

I brought a Rag Mag today. I can't remember the last time I did so, but the student doctor, in his scrubs, on the tube did a fine job with his patter and his collection bucket. The rag was that of the London and Barts Hospitals associated charities, and as both hospitals have a place in my life, it seemed reasonable to contribute.

The college rugby team used to go pulling on a Wednesday night at the London nurses home after our games. Those who were out of luck then ended up in one of the local Indians off the Whitechaple road eating chicken on the bone, as it was 50p cheaper. well we were students after all. Barts Hospital looked after my aged Uncle in his later years, when he was a resident of Charterhouse, in Smithfields.

The format of the mag has not changed a whole lot, loads of risque jokes, all very sexist, definitely non-PC and occasionally racist....I love it.

The only things missing from the Rag Mags of old were the letters of support from the Prime Minister, celebrity actors, or other dignitaries. Oh well,maybe next year......

The Fat Lady Sings

So farewell then Beryl Cook
Painter of ladies of grand proportions
She made her name in Plymouth
With images of The Dolphin Hotel
And left us with the feeling
We were all regulars at the bar

Dawn French was a fan
And Fur Coat hangs on my wall
Her exhibitions spanned 30 years
But her ladies never changed
Larger than life
With a smile to match
I wonder if the angels will pose?

After E J Thribb (171/2)

Fore!

I really do wonder why I am still working! I have just spent a very enjoyable week in the Scottish Borders playing golf, and, as with sex, when its good its very good, and when its bad its still pretty good.

I played Hillside just outside Birkdale prior to the tour, to get into the swing of it. Hillside is one of the top 100 courses in the UK and is a very stiff test for anyone who plays it. It took me a couple of holes to get going but all in all I was pleased with the performance.

With that experience behind me, I stepped onto the first tee at Brampton near Carlisle, looking forward to making a good attack on the Nixdorf Masters trophy, an event which I had been runner up on two previous occasions. The course was extremely hilly and we got a fair ribbing from the locals as we huffed and puffed our way around. The event is always played of three quarters of handicap, so for me receiving only 12 shots was a tough ask. I ended up with 31 Stapleford points which was effectively 1 over par so I was very pleased.

That pleasure turned to elation when I found out 31 was the winning score. A good start to the week.......

Next day we played a parkland course at Tolwoodley near Hawick. I battled round that at 1 over too, for 35 points but was pipped by a colleague with 38, but won my match in the Ailsa Craig Cup to keep the momentum going. We then had probably the worst curry I have ever tasted, in a tandoori place in Hawick, ugh!

Wednesday saw the tour move to The Roxburghe course in Kelso, a championship standard course for which Sergio Garcia holds the course record at 66. It was one fo those days when almost everything went right. I played the front 9 in 39 shots, 3 over par gross, and kept the momentum going for most of the back nine, but a few three putts and a couple of poor holes saw me finish with an 86, two under par, but enough to win the day.

Finally we played the Hawick course, another designed for mountain goats. There were four people in contention for the Top Gun trophy, and as I halved my match, all four of us went down the first again in a play-off. Unfortunately I got dumped out there, and with one other dropping out at the second it all went down to the third. Frank unfortunately hit two balls into the woods, so handing Mike his first title win.

The Ailsa Craig was halved at 8 all, so Frank and his team retained it,although I was more than happy with the stash I was able to take home.

Steve and I stopped at Sedburgh on the way back and played a tidy little 9 holer before arriving back in Scouse tired but refreshed.......now, where shall I go for the next trip?

And there is the unmistakable figure of Lester Piggott, or is it Joe Mercer?

Me and the missus went to the races yesterday. Well, it was called Knutsford races, but it was actually a point-to-point meeting in a field at the back of Tabley Hall. It was really quite good fun.

There were eight races in all, and most had between 8 and 15 runners. There were plenty of bookmakers around the place, as well as refreshment outlets and a few retailers selling the obligatory checked jackets, felt hats and designer wellies.

Loads of people were in no need of these, however, as they were well decked out in designer county wear. The car parks were full of Range Rovers, Land Rovers and other 4 x 4 gas guzzlers, each with a boot stashed with booze, barbecues and Belinda or Brian.

One poor child was wearing her pony club top, monogrammed with her name, Tabitha. Her mum was either a Bewitched fan, or thought a spot of magic had conjured young offspring from place or places unknown.

Point- to-Point has been a traditional add-on activity for the hunting and farming community for centuries and is used to keep the horses and riders in some sort of trim when the hounds are not active. Horses used to race cross country between 'flags', the points, taking any route they could to win the race to the finish, but these days the racing is on more conventional tracks, as with the meeting yesterday.

It is not unusual to get a fair bit of skulduggery at these meetings, and one odds-on favourite was placed nowhere yesterday, prompting a stewards enquiry. On the whole though it seemed to be good honest endeavour by a predominantly young set of riders. We had a couple of places, although most of the races went to form, so betting on the favourite had no value. That said a 25-1 outsider won the last.

Must put new designer wellies on my Christmas list ready for the meeting next year.

Bottoms Up!

So the name dropping continues......

While walking along the Thames path at South Bank this morning I came upon MP Lembit Opik tonsil tickling his girlfriend, or possibly wife according to some reports, Gabriela Irimia, who is one half of the Cheeky Girls. It was all being capture on film.

Anybody interested? No I thought not.

You want how much?

I have got the hump, and it has been caused by an e-mail which I have just received from Oxfam, concerning their charity shop pricing.

Oxfam have just announced plans to open a 'designer' outlet in Chiswick, West London, a well to do suburb whos' residents can probably manage without second hand clobber. This is really the thrust of my gripe.

Their existing shop sells designer gear donated by well meaning residents like Ant and Dec, and the nearly new shop owner who gives them his can't shift stock. They price it fairly high.

I have been in a few times and tried to haggle and negotiate for items only to be told that the price is the price, so I always walk out empty handed.

So I thought I would e-mail Oxfam and explain to them that they get most of their goods for free and that they are after all, a second hand shop, why will the staff not allow price reductions?

What did they say? Well, they have an obligation to the people who donate the items, and the people the charity supports to get the best price for the items, and so the price you see is the price they want. Furthermore, it would stress the 'old dears' who man the shops as volunteers if they were under pressure to negotiate.

Well as far as the first point is concerned I am sure any price they get is better than junking the stuff, or selling it on e-bay, and the people who donate have no expectation on price, and with regard the second point, the battle axes in the Chiswick branch are more than capable of holding their own when faced with people looking for a bargain.

They then go on to say that if it does not sell they reduce the price, but move the items to a different outlet, Hounslow, Feltham or Bedfont no doubt.

Wake up Oxfam, you are a glorified car boot sale punter, start acting like one!!!

The perfect Ten....

This has no reference to events in Wigan on Sunday, but to the annual ten Tors expedition which has been running across Dartmoor this weekend. The route varies with age, but forces the participants to visit ten of the Tors on Dartmoor as indicated on their joining instructions.Teams consist of six people and the route has to be completed by 5pm on Sunday, with the participants spending the Saturday night on the moor. You may recall that last year the whole event had to be abandoned as the weather was so bad. Poor visibility, rain and wind contributed to the decision to evacuate 2,500 kids at short notice. The Armed Forces who police the event acted with military precision to complete the task with minimum trauma to the teams.

This years event had already been marred by the death of one girl earlier in the year while her team were practicing for the walk.

This weekends event, however, went much better. Most of the teams completed the course, and those that were removed from the route early were forced off by blisters or heat exhaustion, as the temperatures this year hit 80- degrees.

All six members of the team need to complete the course to ensure they all get a commemorative medal, and I can remember my pal Stu doing it while we were at school, and telling us stories of how they literally had to drag one of their team the last few miles to the finishing line in Oakhampton in order to get theirs.

So well done to those that completed the walk this year, and to the organisers and the military for sustaining the event into the future.

A week is a long time in politics

....and a long time not to post a blog entry, so whats been happening?

There have been a number of developments regarding previous stories in the last few days. Most significant has been the election of Boris 'The Spider' Johnson, as the new mayor of London. jolly good show I say as it removes Ken 'The Newt' Livingstone from office and removes the sleaze which allegedly followed him around in the London Assembly rooms.

Tomorrow is the start of my second year of Blog writing, so that means the house must have been on the market all that time, or near enough.We are not really any closer to selling, but there seem to be some new people dragged along by Foxtons to at least show a bit of activity.
I still can't work out the way the hit tracker works, it says 942 people have visited but I am sure it is not counting unique id's so will need to see how to sort that out....something for a quiet day at the office maybe?

There is no Clampitts tour this year, but SWMBO is off with some amigos loco to sunny Spain at the weekend, definitely lock up your husband time. I shall take advantage to play a few medal rounds of golf and make sure my handicap is still kosha. Next week is the IBM national golf tournament qualifier in Ilkley, then its off to the boarders in Scotland for a bit more Ailsa Craig trophy hunting. I must try not to win the Rabbit this year, which reminds me, I wonder where it is? As I was captain of the winning Moose Cup team in Portugal this year, I must be attracted to trophies associated with animals.

Well that's a brief summary of things past, I am just off to get the kids off the bouncy castle and cut all the trees down in the garden, you just can't be too careful these days can you?

Some like it hot

In discussions yesterday, I learnt of a little known conference which took place in New York during March. it was widely ignored by the British press, and politicians, one can only reason that it was because the findings were in direct conflict to the global warming containment measures which the government are putting so much emphasis on. Clearly CO2 emission control and other related measures are a big revenue earners, and anything which rocks the boat is seen as unhelpful. It is unfortunate that most people in Britain are being denied a balanced augment.

This is the matter as summarised in The Spectator by professor Philip Stott:

Why has the UK media, in pretty well all its forms, failed to report ‘The Manhattan Declaration on Climate Change’, signed in New York on March 4, 2008?” The meeting at which the ‘Declaration’ was agreed [‘The 2008 International Conference on Climate Change’, March 2 - March 4] was attended by over 500 people (scientists, economists, policy makers, etc.), with over 100 speakers delivering keynote addresses, or participating in panel discussions. Sadly, I think we know the answer, and it is one that reflects very badly on our supine UK media [the only exception of note appears to be The Sunday Telegraph, March 9: ‘Climate dissent grows hotter as chill deepens’]. If ever evidence were needed of the dangerous ‘control’ of our media by pernicious grand narratives, then this is surely it.

And the Manhattan Declaration itself? This is it:

‘Global warming’ is not a global crisis

We, the scientists and researchers in climate and related fields, economists, policymakers, and business leaders, assembled at Times Square, New York City, participating in the 2008 International Conference on Climate Change;

Resolving that scientific questions should be evaluated solely by the scientific method;

Affirming that global climate has always changed and always will, independent of the actions of humans, and that carbon dioxide (CO2) is not a pollutant but rather a necessity for all life;

Recognising that the causes and extent of recently observed climatic change are the subject of intense debates in the climate science community and that oft-repeated assertions of a supposed ‘consensus’ among climate experts are false;

Affirming that attempts by governments to legislate costly regulations on industry and individual citizens to encourage CO2 emission reduction will slow development while having no appreciable impact on the future trajectory of global climate change. Such policies will markedly diminish future prosperity and so reduce the ability of societies to adapt to inevitable climate change, thereby increasing, not decreasing, human suffering;

Noting that warmer weather is generally less harmful to life on Earth than colder:

Hereby declare:

That current plans to restrict anthropogenic CO2 emissions are a dangerous misallocation of intellectual capital and resources that should be dedicated to solving humanity's real and serious problems.

That there is no convincing evidence that CO2 emissions from modern industrial activity has in the past, is now, or will in the future cause catastrophic climate change.

That attempts by governments to inflict taxes and costly regulations on industry and individual citizens with the aim of reducing emissions of CO2 will pointlessly curtail the prosperity of the West and progress of developing nations without affecting climate.

That adaptation as needed is massively more cost-effective than any attempted mitigation and that a focus on such mitigation will divert the attention and resources of governments away from addressing the real problems of their peoples.

That human-caused climate change is not a global crisis.

Now, therefore, we recommend -

That world leaders reject the views expressed by the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change as well as popular, but misguided works such as An Inconvenient Truth.

That all taxes, regulations, and other interventions intended to reduce emissions of CO2 be abandoned forthwith.

Agreed at New York, 4 March 2008.

500 scientists, economists, policymakers and business leaders, eh? Bang goes that consensus!

More from The Spectator here

Symphony for the Devil

Well the house position continues to be less than desirable, so i have taken the decision to move agents again, and have effectively sold my soul to the estate agent that is Foxtons.
Foxtons have a reputation for hard selling, and hard drinking, so lets hope the first will lead to celebrations involving the second. They have also suffered from bad press associated with some of their selling tactics, and were in dispute with one of the ex-Blue peter presenters over management fees for a flat she rented out.

All I know is that they are reputed to get the highest price possible for the properties they handle, and will hopefully tap into a market which has so far eluded Haarts and Hamptons ( Too many aitches there shurely....ed).

In the meantime we have started to view a few flats as we monitor whether the prices of these is falling. Chiswick Village is an area which has an abundance of property for sale. of its four 1930s red brick blocks, three border either the underground or overground, so we are favouring the fourth block which does not. There are 280 flats in all, so I am wary of substandard communal heating, higher than average service charges and the overall internal decor. I am currently canvasing on the local Chiswick web site to see if I can gain any intelligence.

Another of the blocks we were considering has just been identified with asbestos infestation, and each tenant has been handed a one-off bill for £25,000 for decontamination. i think we will give that one a miss for the moment.

So the search goes on, but first and foremost we need a buyer for SC. That said, it is a double rollover tomorrow!!

Window on my world

In August of last year, I was extolling the virtues of having a shed, but was disappointed that mine did not have a window. Well on Sunday I sorted that problem.

The side wall of the structure was suffering a bit from the battering it takes form the prevailing wind. It sweeps in off the Irish Sea and down the Dee Estuary and batters us most of the year. Indeed, the house could be called 'Wind House' rather than 'Hill House' such are the number of days one can sit comfortably in the garden.

So, rather than replace the timbers, I thought I would fix a plastic sheet in a DIY window frame. It all went well and I now am able to find tools and other artifacts without rooting around in the semi-darkness, with the light of the door to assist me.

Now like all projects I take on at home, one job inevitably led to three others, I wonder if there is a law to cover this? Anyway, I cleared out about three black sacks worth of rubbish so can now see the workbench and have sufficient storage space to get me through the coming months. I really must get that old battered armchair and a sky dish, then I will be made up!!

Schools out for Summer

The papers are full of news today,of the potential strike by teachers scheduled for this Thursday. It would be a major event for a profession which has never gone on strike before. I suspect the reason for not taking industrial action previously is that it would be difficult to find another day for teachers to take given they are on vacation most of the year, and need to fit their quota of 'Baker Days' into the remainder of their working time.

The average wage of a teacher is higher than that of nurses and policemen already, and I know which I would consider to be more valuable to society.

Times have changed haven't they? When I was at school, teachers were seen as the ultimate authority, they were pillars of society and head teachers commanded huge respect within their local community. Parents would not dare to keep their children off school unless they were on their deathbed, and nearly all teachers ran extra curricular activities after school. These activities were conducted for the benefit of the children, and not because the parents were at work and could not, therefore, pick their little Johnny or Annie up until later in the evening.

These days teachers are less inclined to conduct activities outside core hours, they are fearful of political correctness, health and safety and positive discrimination, and they are geared to teaching children to pass examinations, not to turn into generally well educated children who are able to make the transition from childhood to adulthood seamlessly. Much of this is out of their direct span of control, although they are happy to use the excuse as its suits them.

The following example shows how standards have slipped in Maths, for example.


1. Teaching Maths In 1970
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for £100. His cost of production is
4/5 of the price. What is his profit?

2. Teaching Maths In 1980
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for £100. His cost of production is
4/5 of the price, or £80. What is his profit?

3. Teaching Maths In 1990
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for £100. His cost of production is
£80. Did he make a profit?

4. Teaching Maths In 2000
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for £100. His cost of production is
£80 and his profit is £20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Maths In 2007
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and
inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the
preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of £20.
What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class
participation after answering the question: how did the birds and squirrels
feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers. )

6. Teaching Maths 2017
أ المسجل تبيع حموله شاحنة من الخشب من اجل ‎100 دولار‎. صاحب تكلفة الانتاج من
الثمن‎. ما هو الربح له؟

OK, its a bit flippant, but many a true word spoken in jest.

The strike this week will force many parents to take time of work to mind their offspring, something I am sure which will rebound on the teaching community in the long run. Here is a sure way of winding a teacher up though. When they say rather self righteously that they have 20 years teaching experience, just reply 'no, you have one years experience repeated 20 times'. They will go bright red and argue how wide and varied the annual teaching cycle is, trying to amplify their justification for striking. I feel a hundred lines coming on......

The Empire strikes back

There is a shop on Twickenham Green in West London which sells Storm Trooper outfits modelled on the suits worn in the Start Wars films. I understand there is a serious sub-culture surrounding these suits and the use of them. Fanatics are booked for Star Wars exhibitions, weddings, theme parties and night club events, and the people who embrace the Force take great pride in their appearance.There are a number of variations in the design of the suits and the worst thing a person can do is mix and match, definitely a no-go.

Now however things have taken a sinister turn. The person who manufactured the helmets for the original films, Andrew Ainsworth owns the shop. In 2004 he discovered one of the original helmets he had made in a cupboard in his home in Twickenham.

After successfully selling it to a collector, he began to manufacture the outfits once more, through his company, Shepperton Design Studios. He found a legion of Star Wars fans willing to pay up to £1,800 for a suit and helmet. Lucasfilm responded in 2006 by suing Mr Ainsworth. A judge in California awarded the firm $20 million (£10 million) in damages for copyright infringement, unfair competition and trademark infringement. It has now brought the case to Britain to ensure that this decision is enforced here. The case is currently being heard.

Lawyers for Mr Ainsworth are arguing that the copyright has expired, because the uniforms were pieces of industrial design rather than works of art.

Lucasfilm has made in excess of £6 billion from merchandise sales off the back of the Star Wars films, so they are certainly the Empire in this particular battle. Mr Ainsworth is counter suing for a share of this £6 billion over the last 30 years. Lets hope that Luke Skywalker is batting for the good guys again.

Field of Dreams

Blimey! what a weekend. The house was invaded by our youngest and his mates, seven in all I think, who came down to support 'Trotter' who was playing on the wing for Birkenhead Park in their EDF Intermediate Vase cup final at the RFU in Twickenham Stadium.

How jealous was I that he got to run out on the hallowed turf, but good luck to him. I have known 'Trotter' almost as long as Kieran, and Maxine the same, so it was only right and proper that we went along too. I am, after all, a fully paid up member of 'Park'. Trouble was it kicked off at 10:00, being the first of three finals.

Anyway, there must have been over 1000 people watching, maybe more, as Exeter, Northampton and Leicester supports drifted in during the second half, and as a final it was not half bad.....Park took the lead with a few penalties, then Chester (for it was a local derby) scored a fairly soft try, but Park battled back to be leading 14-18 and they dominated the second half without putting the game to bed. 'Trotter' was playing pretty steady, a few good breaks and some sound defence, when sadly he was thrown a slow looping pass by his centre. If it had gone to hand it was glory time for 'Trotter' , but the Chester winger had all his Christmases instead, intercepting and running seventy yards to touchdown under the posts. 21-18 win for them, then. Still 'Trotter' managed to score later so the weekend was not a total disaster!!

The Masters, the first of the four major golf tournaments, was being televised this weekend, and it brought to mind a contrast between most major sporting events and golf. 'Trotter' was one of the few who can tell their kids they have played at Twickenham Stadium, and trod the same sods as many legends of the game. The final was one of five which the RFU and EDF collaborate to try to get grass roots players playing there. Football has its Amateur Cup and FA Vase aimed at lower league players running out at Wembley, but your average (or below average) Sunday league player has very little chance of playing there. There are amateur races at Aintree and Ascot for jockeys or point-to-point riders but again they are limited.

With golf, however, anybody can effectively turn up, pay their green fee and tread the same turf, putt on the same greens and shower in the same facilities as Tiger Woods, Jack Nicklaus, Bobby Jones, Seve Ballesteros or any of the other famous names associated with the sport. Indeed, while playing Valderama in Spain a few years ago, I was delighted at the 17th to chip over the brook and onto the green for three, two putting for a five. I was only too happy to point out that at the Ryder Cup a few weeks earlier, Tiger had failed with his chip and found the brook, only managing a bogey. So for one hole, and one hole only, I was better than Tiger!!

The irony of course ,is that Augusta, where the Masters is always held, is almost impossible to play as a visitor, but hey, there are enough other top courses around to more than make up for it.

Banking on a sale

Welcome news from the Bank of England today as they reduced the base rate by a quarter of one percent to use the official jargon. Whether that is enough to encourage somebody to buy my house remains tobe seen, but I suspect not.

Things are quite quiet at the moment. There are occasional viewings, and the odd silly offer by a developer who has noted the house has been on the market a while and wanted to test how desperate I am to sell. I am happy to bide my time at the moment, although would be tempted to take a lower offer if I can see the price of flats dropping. At the moment though they are holding up pretty well in Chis.

I had to laugh last week . One of the houses over the road which was sold in June last year for £1,075,000 has just been offered again for, wait for it, £1,550,000. Now I known the Polish workforce are competitive, but that is one hell of a margin to be seeking in less than a year and in a depressed market. Its also on for almost twice what I am hoping for. It will be interesting to see if it gets shifted.

I am considering changing agents, or even going dual, but I need to see what they can offer me in incentives . It may even be time to consider Foxtons as an option, but I suspect they would want an arm and a leg in commission.

So with the warm weather just round the corner and May being the start of the viewing season, it will be interesting to see if I can accept an offer within twelve months of it going on the market.

Bring me my chariot of fire........

How sad to read that the Dean of Southwalk cathedral in London, the Very Reverend Colin Slee, has banned the singing of the hymn Jerusalem.

Apparently all Church of England cathedral Deans have the power to decide which hymns are sung during services in their domain.

A spokesman for Southwark Cathedral said: "The Dean of Southwark does not believe that it is to the glory of God". This seems to be in direct conflict with advice given to registrars who conduct civil weddings in registry offices and other public authorised venues.

When we were married we were advised that we could not use Jerusalem as it did have religious connotations

I wonder if William Blake knew what a can of worms he was opening