You're 'avin a baff!!!

The power of nature at work again, and a £50 reward sounds good to me......Wembury here I come....

Duck soup

Billy and the Jets

One thing about moving house is that it gives you little option but to throw stuff out, or redistribute it around the family. A combination of e-bay dealing, car boot sales and the odd give away has left me fairly well placed to cope with moving or storing the remaining kit though.

Upstairs, for example, I have a bed, a futon which is our sons, a sofa bed, chest of drawers, desk, filing cabinet and two bookcases. Downstairs, apart from the white goods which will get trashed, there are two sofas, a bureau, dining table and the usual assortment of electrical entertainment equipment. So all in all a part load should suffice once I decide where its all going.

Those of you who know the house may notice that one item is missing, namely the 'Joanna', and you would be right. This morning it got carted off to the piano hospital for some remedial work. It is an upright Bechstein, in dark cherry, which has been reconstructed for a hot climate.

This entailed re-enforcing the sides and tops with strips of matching wood and screwing a number of the joints which would normally be glued, to ensure they did not split. The piano dates from about 1907 and as a piece of furniture it is very elegant.

That's very handy as my playing skills are limited, and my objective aimed at allowing me to play it before I was 50 did rather ease into the background when I was faced with some other priorities. As my memory retards with age, I also wonder if I will ever be able to play anything without recourse to the music sheets!

Anyway, the piano will be away for a few weeks as its sound board is cracked and needs repairing. They use pine strips which are inserted into the cracks and then planed flush. The pins and hammers may also need realignment, although the keys and playing tolerances do seem OK still. The only features it lacks are the two candelabra which traditionally adorned the front of the piece. The restoration when they were removed is pretty good so I am not sure if I will get those replaced.

Once it is back in working order it will get shipped up North, where I am sure it will get more use than it does presently. Each piano is numbered , so I will start to do some provenience investigation to see whether it was shipped to an Arabian knight or similar dignitary, all those years ago. The Bechstein factory employs a historian in its plant in Germany which seems like a good place to start. Watch this space for any news.

Ice Cold in Alex

I have constantly been turned down for membership of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), as I lack the prerequisite sandals, beard and beer gut, although the last of those is starting to develop under my increasingly tight shirt. Nonetheless, I take a keen interest in the subject, and am happy to sample the products whenever an opportunity presents itself.

I have indicated before that maybe there will be a revitalisation of the bitter ale market, when youngsters start drinking what their Grandfathers drink, as a rebellion against their dads, and it was encouraging at 'Camp Dick' last weekend to see the youngsters happily downing foaming pints of bitter.

Imagine my surprise then when I heard that Fuller, Smith and Turner, they of the beloved 'London Pride' are to encourage people to drink their bitter on ice!!! Now before hardened Pride drinkers splutter into their pints, I should reassure them that initial trials will be conducted using bottled 'Honey Dew' bitter, a light summer ale more suited to chilling that Pride itself.

The success of Magners cider in convincing people to drink their product over ice has clearly had an influence here, and it will be interesting to see what take up the Honey Dew approach has.

Personally I find it hard to have a sesh on fizzed up beer or cold lager and am still amazed that so many people can, however, anything that may help the traditional British pint of bitter last the test of time is well worth a try.

Cheers!

A staff half

It is ironic that I was in The Ring public house in Southwark, last night, given that Ricky Hatton has just impressed in his latest defence of his Light Welterweight boxing title.

As its name suggests, The Ring has boxing history, although some of that history is debated. Whether John Graham Chambers actually wrote the Queensbury Rules in the bar of the pub is unclear, and the pub never had a boxing ring itself, although there was one just across The Cut from which it takes its name.

The bar is decorated with old pictures of boxers from the past and has other memorabilia to boot. Its main attraction though is that it still gives 'staff halves', a practice which is dying out in drinking establishments now as weights and measures regulation, and tight, margin grabbing landlords try to outlaw it.

Interesting that they are happy to serve a pint with a half inch head on it though......

Ah but we were evicted from our hole in the road.....

Well 'Camp Dick' has been and gone, and what a fine affair it was. The weekend got off to a better than expected start I have to say, when 'er indoors and I found out we had bagged the spare bedroom in the farmhouse. SWMBO was actually in the queue at ASDA buying a tent when I passed on the news.

We arrived on Scammonden moor just in time for the evening barbecue and a few pints of Black Sheep gravity fed from an antique barrel cradle. There then followed a tour of the camp site, and a community sing song around the camp fire. I learnt alot about camping life over the weekend, and one such was that there are two types of fires, an English one and an Indian one.

An English one roars away burning logs at a great rate, its too hot to get near and all the warmth dissipates into the atmosphere dirt quick. An Indian one, however, is much smaller, and burns away steadily producing enough heat to warm people and allow them to sit round it. It was an Indian style fire which hosted our sing song.

The singing went well, but I must remember to take a torch next time, it certainly helps to be able to see the words.

Day two started with bacon sarni's and copious cups of tea, before the battle hardened walkers set off for a yomp down to Marsden and the Tunnel End public house. We arrived at the same place some while later via the Piece Hall in Halifax, and Dean Clough mill. Everybody then assembled for the high point of the weekend, pie and peas.

Now they looked great in the pot as you can see, however, the gremlins had been at work while the hike was under way, and the peas had taken on a life of their own, and over cooked. Given there was pork in with them there was no alternative but to throw them away and obtain substitutes. Tesco came up trumps, and so the mint sauce did not go to waste, and by 'eck, they were right grand......

Then followed more singing before rain stopped play. Next morning,after another fortifying breakfast, it was the packing up of tent, and several other lessons as to how that works, the emptying of the latrines, which luckily did not get allocated to me, and the ill fated walk back up the hill. Finally were the goodbyes, and all in all a great weekend. No cats got eaten, although it was a close thing, no humans got bitten, that I know of, the children all ended up with the right parents, but probably a bit too much fresh air for my liking. I am back in the smoke now though so the status quo should soon be restored.

Cardiac Climes

There I am saying how my fitness campaign has started and I suddenly get found out by a bit of a slope in a mates back garden.

Now I have climbed a few things in my time, the Worcestshire Beacon near Malvern, the main street in Clovelley, and the walk between the 8th green and 9th tee at Bovey Castle. None of those though have worn me out like the climb yesterday afternoon. Buggered, I should say so.......

The thing that got me though was Stu did the same walk carrying a ten man tent on his back. I really must try harder!!

I'm stumped

Well, I seem to be getting back into the fitness regime. In late September last year I ran my first ever 10k. It took place in Chiswick and the course stretched from Kew bridge to Chiswick Bridge and back, finishing at the Chiswick business park in Gunnersbury. it was part of their Yellow Umbrella day I took just over 75 minutes which was OK, but I had aimed for less than 70, still for a first attempt it was fine. My wife, eldest son and his girlfriend were there with banners to cheer me over the last few hundred yards.

I had been very diligent with the training even to the extent of making a New Years resolution to drink 2 litres of water a day, and I had a BUPA training plan to follow up until the last six weeks, when I reverted to the Yellow Umbrella plan.

That was nearly nine months ago, so I thought it about time to recharge the batteries. I do various routes on the roads around Scouseland, some hilly and a couple on the flat, as well as running round one or both of the parks which constitute Birkenhead Park.

It is a little known fact that Birkenhead Park was the design inspiration for Central Park in New York City. I have yet to see Batman or Lincoln Rhyme on my runs though.

When I am in the metrolopse however, I run in the Lensbury club in Teddington. I find the air in Chis a bit too polluted for me these days. Anyway I am up to a steady 2.5K at the moment and will build up to 5k over the next few weeks.

The Lensbury club used to be the pride and joy of the Shell Corporation and one had to work for Shell to be a member, or be a retiree or family thereof. That's how I joined. It is now, however, a commercially run organisation although i think the buildings are still owned by Shell, who are effectively the landlords.

Unfortunately when it went private, it signalled an influx of ankle biters and the design of the club has been changed radically to accommodate them. There are adult only areas but overall it is a family oriented environment. Fair do's to them though, they spend the money on food and drink and activities, all of which are premium price.

The changing rooms in the gym, are segregated for men and women, obviously, but also for adults and children. There is an over 18 men only area and a family changing facility. Elderly gentlemen in Speedo's is however, not a sight I am particularly keen on, so I tend to use the large changing area, and its here I have a problem...or may have uncovered a new law of human behaviour to rival Murphy and Boyle.

The walls are surrounded by lockers, and it is a fact that when you come back into the changing area, the person next to you or beside you is at their locker or has selected that one to use to change. Today I was the only one in there when I changed. When I returned somebody was in the one next door....if they are vacant they have a key in so out of 50 lockers only one did not have a key. You would think that might have given him a clue!!

I have yet to think of a suitable name for this Law, Law 39 is the best I can come up with, but a few pints of Pride may inspire me.