Folie a Deux - Day 1

There's that big cuddly teddy bear again!

Faithfully - Day 10

Something about an attractive man with his legs wide open...

Faithfully - Day 9

Oh, that nibblable neck.

Faithfully - Day 8

Big huggy teddy. Want in my bed.

Faithfully - Day 7

Intense.

Negative, Captain

Nearly six years ago my local council set up area assemblies, and I went along to the first one for my area. Because parking in my street and the neighbouring ones was in critical condition, I hoped to get that included in the five priorities we had to set at that first meeting, but unfortunately it came 6th. But I stuck with it, and joined the co-ordinating committee and got to know the councillors for the area (we call these divisions "wards"), some newly-elected and hard-working Greens. Since then I have attended at least four co-ordinators' meetings and four assemblies a year, each lasting up to 3 hours, and I've also gone to several other meetings at the Town Hall about matters of local interest. Meanwhile, two years ago, our Greens were ousted in a new election, and I found the changeover to a new party difficult. They are nowhere near as hard-working as the Greens, but we rub along successfully together, and I have stuck with it. Here's part of the current co-ordinating committee:

Last night, at the latest meeting, parking was not on the agenda. Those of us who desperately needed it and fought hard achieved it 18 months ago. Sadly, the streets who put the kybosh on our first attempt several years before, and condemned us to the misery of regularly having to park several streets away from our homes, have found that the people who plagued us by parking near the two railway stations, bus and light railway stations, and shops, now plague them, as they are just a few streets further away. They had thought we should continue to suffer so that they didn't have to, so really, tough luck maties. But they got an emergency debate last year, and won a review which was took place 6-8 months ago. But some of the streets didn't get their ducks in a row, and lost out in the review. So last night they crashed our meeting - which did not have parking on the agenda - and screamed about democracy (ie. their right to do nothing except when it affects their comfort, and then insist that everyone act for them no matter what other subject was up for discussion). I was on the receiving end of a rude comment about "me and my cronies", which referred to the fact that the councillor in the chair called me by name. Well, if they'd attended so many meetings over such a long period, perhaps he would know their names too. But they wanted only to follow their own agenda, not our actual democratically chosen one, and acted in such a way that they lost everyone else's sympathy for their cause. They spat out their dummies and stormed out, continuing to have a long, loud argument in the foyer. Empathy for their position led me to go and offer some advice. I told them how, when the consultation forms were delivered, I put a leaflet through every door in the street to remind people to vote. "We did that, but someone else not even from the area put out leaflets that told lies and we lost the vote." "Anyway, we don't all have time to come to these assemblies and join the co-ordinating groups, like you, if you're retired"...Red mist. Fucking rude bastards. Grey hair means you are retired and have time on your hands. I left them to their doom. I told the councillor about their comments, and given what he'd already heard, he was minded to recommend to the Mayor that they get no special consideration. Democracy isn't just about turning out when you have an interest to defend (or push forward) and if you don't take part when the chance presents itself, don't expect everyone else suddenly to jump up and help you. And if your only recourse is to abuse, expect a bloodied nose, perhaps metaphorically, perhaps in reality. Oh, how I would love to bloody a nose or two among that group.

Faithfully - Day 6

Bemused. Please come and bemuse me. Or better still amuse me. Or amuse me and come...

Faithfully - Day 5

Bobby puts his big hand somewhere warm. I can offer him some alternative places...

Faithfully - Day 4

Oh boy, someone's trying to lie to Bobby. Bad move.

Faithfully - Day 3

Good old Bobby, propping up the wall again. Half of New York would fall down without him.

Countdown to Canada

Those of you who have been with me from the start will remember the family reunion trip I took to Athabasca in Alberta, Canada, in 2005. There was to have been a return match three years later, but it never happened. Now my cousin Linda has emailed to say she is planning a reunion for next summer, would I be interested? Well, the cat-sitting's already arranged, and though I don't think it's possible to book a flight this far ahead, as soon as I can I'll have my ticket paid for. This is a view of Linda's house from the lake on which it stands:



This is the end view of the house:


Cousin Lorna in the teeny tiny kitchen:

Faithfully - Day 2

Back on the job, scruffy, still sad, but brilliant and sexy.

What teachers do on training days

Well, quite a lot, actually. Yesterday we assembled near the top of Sydenham Hill at a golf club and all showed the Powerpoints we'd made about our own little areas of expertise.

But if you are a good leader, there is always some kind of team building exercise. We learned a 3-part harmony. Later we played a word definition game.

After a reasonable lunch, we had an art lesson. It was supposed to be outdoors, but though the rain we experience daily had stopped, the ground was too wet to venture out. So we painted the extensive view from the windows.
There were some might fine artists. My own effort was less impressive, but I quite like it:

The big pointy thing on the left, enveloped on the haze, is The Shard, Europe's tallest building, that was only officially opened the day before.

Faithfully - Day 1

Ah yes, the impossible niece and the non-existent family that appeared for one night only in what should have been the first episode of the season, but made no sense as episode 3.

Identity Crisis - Day 10

Is he wondering if he could have done more to save his brother, or considering his own childhood with his schizophrenic mother?

Identity Crisis - Day 9

Wonder what you're thinking, darling?

Identity Crisis - Day 8

Happy 4th July, Bright Eyes.

Identity Crisis - Day 7

Full body action shot.

Identity Crisis - Day 6

Thoughtful. And the perfect scruff.

The woman to thank - or blame!

I've always known that I was delivered by a midwife called Nurse Walkerdine. I remember my mother taking about her, and seeing the article about her death in the local paper.

But until today I've never come across any mention of her in a search engine. It led me to a film clip that cannot be downloaded, but which you can watch here:

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/deptford-4-000-babies/query/Colin

The narrator pronounces her name as Miss Walkerdeen but I think my mother, who after all actually met her, would have been correct in calling her Walkerdyne. There is a Valerie Walkerdine who comes up in Google as a nursing professional. I like to think that may be her granddaughter, and that she may have been named after me...

Identity Crisis - Day 5

He looks almost coy when he looks up like that.
 

I'm Back!

OK, I know you didn't know I'd been away, and indeed I haven't, but it felt like I was in Outer Mongolia. My old computers were so slow!

But now my newest one is back, better than ever. I still have a myriad programmes to download, but the most important (McAfee, Blogger, Yahoo, MSN) are here and ready to use. What is even better is, all my data was successfully rescued.

What a great way to celebrate Vincent's birthday.

Happy Birthday, Handsome

Dearest Vincent

 We all hope you have an absolutely wonderful day.
 

Love and Kisses from Val and the Vixens

Identity Crisis - Day 4

Serious. Handsome. Seriously handsome.
 

Those of a sensitive disposition...

...look away now if you do not want to see a poor defenceless animal suffering.



Yes, folks, this is Alex's poor dog JJ being tortured into crashing out on the sofa during our lessons. Pity the poor mutt.

Identity Crisis - Day 3

Goren in the dark. Dream come true. Though of course, in my dream, he's not fully clothed...
 

Better Late ThanNever

When I woke up this morning (earlier than I needed or intended) I heard on the news that today the Queen would be unveiling the long-awaited and overdue monument to those who served (and the many who lost their lives) in Bomber Command in World War II. What's more, the only remaining Lancaster bomber that still flies would be doing a fly-past. I couldn't get back to sleep, I decided I needed to find out the time of the ceremony and go. So at midday I was at the Commmonwealth war memorial section of Green Park to see what I could see.

The reason this memorial had never been built before was that the powers-that-be felt embarrassed because British bombers killed around 600,000 German civilians. But they, not the airmen who sacrificed their lives, were responsible for that. Dresden will always be a stain on the Allies' conduct of the latter part of the war, but those who died believing their leaders had a reson for these acts cannot be blames, and should be honoured. The recently late Robin Gibb fought hard to get this memorial built.

The roofs of the nearby buildings carried film crews as well as other observers:
 
The Horse Guards rode past on their magnificent glossy black beasts:
 

Along with the veterans by the monument there were current members of the RAF in their grey uniforms:
   


I saw the Queen's car, but not the Queen (it was empty) but that's no loss to a non-royalist like me. I missed filming the formation of jets that started off the flypast. But I did manage to film the Lancaster and its poppy drop. Remember the Wellington Arch, Maui?


 


 Later, despite the hot weather (at last! but too much! 28 degrees) I went on to Oxford Street, the busy central London shopping street. Bizarrely, a large number of the paper poppies had found their way there, so I was able to collect a souvenir. Now I just need to see a Spitfire fly and I will be happy.

Identity Crisis - Day 2

This picture makes me think of Joan of Arc, for some reason. I'd certainly celebrate his saint's day.
 

You Cannot Be Serious!

My energy provider has just reduced my monthly payments by £17. Great news!

Oh, but hang on. They don't seem to be taking much notice of the gas side of the equation, though the monthly payments would be even smaller if they weren't really including it.

However, when I look at the latest bill, I see I am well over £600 in credit.

Yes, that's right, over £600!

They don't mention a refund. It would pay nicely for the repairs to my leaky gutter. Though I'd rather put it towards a new car. But hey, we can't have everything.

But EDF energy, I CAN have a refund. Don't take too long getting back to me.

Identity Crisis - Day 1

It's Goren of the super-fast-growing hair!

 And all because they couldn't be bothered to show these episodes in the right order.
 

Playing Dead - Day 12

Gotcha!

Playing Dead - Day 11

Nearly there.

Perfect

How lucky we are to have lived through the incarnation of the world's greatest, sexiest detective, with the wonderful Vincent D'Onofrio as Robert Goren.

But we have been lucky enough in the UK to have had a lifetime of perfect matches between actor and role.

When Agatha Christie met the actress Joan Hickson, she told her that, when she was older, she would be the perfect Miss Marple. The TV people were able to see this, too, and so we had many years of wonderful portrayals.

Poirot, too, was perfectly portrayed by David Suchet, who continues in the role occasionally to this day.

The finest ever Sherlock Holmes was indubitably the wonderful, plummy-voiced Jeremy Brett. He was also the finest Maxim de Winter in Rebecca, just as Colin Firth was the best Mr Darcy.

Ruth Rendell's Inspector Wexford was stuffed full of character by George Baker long past a real copper's retirement age (and indeed she has brought the character out of retirement recently. Sadly, George is no longer around to portray him). Here he is with his on-screen wife, who became his real-life wife after the death of his previous Mrs.

One of my favourite cop teams is Dalziel and Pascoe. Colin Buchanan is good as Inspector Pascoe, but Warren Clarke is irresisistible as the Fat Controller Dalziel (for my US readers, that's pronounced "Dee-ell")

Any perfect casting you would like to share with us?

Playing Dead - Day 10

Moving in for the kill.
 

Playing Dead - Day 9

Even with the world's worst haircut and a crap script, He can still manage to look gorgeous.
 

Playing Dead - Day 8

That's the closest we come to a smile in this episode.
 

Playing Dead - Day 7

I can almost taste that neck...and I certainly would like to!

Miserable Old Git

When I go to the supermarket I take the remnants of a loaf to feed to the birds in the supermarket car park, then I buy some more in the supermarket to give them an extra treat when I come out. Recently I have been disappointed by how few starlings there were, and I put it down to two things: the presence of a lot of crows; and the failure of our migrating birds to return. Our populations are different in winter and in summer. Our winter birds fly away further north, and birds from further south come to breed here. Starlings are thought of as common and ordinary, but they are really striking:

They are positively iridescent. But their babies, which have been out of the nest for a couple of weeks, remain drab brown for some time:

Many of you will have seen amazing film of starlings flocking together at dusk to land in their thousands at their chosen roost site. This is called a murmuration of starlings, which is weird, 'cos they do anything but murmur!

As I started my shopping trip, we were back to having lots of starlings congregating for some free food. Lots of babies were among them. I was delighted. When I came out, I started to feed them some more bread (only wholemeal will do, got to give them their protein!) trying hard to keep them away from the road. Suddenly an old man got out of his car and started berating me. "Don't you know that's illegal?" he said. Well, it isn't, and I told him so. "Well they shit all over the cars." And our cars shit all over their environment. He didn't like that. He denied it. Well, we build all over their territory, I said. "No we don't." I laughed and swept my arm round to indicate the acres of concrete car park. But he wouldn't understand. So I just told him to shut up and mind his own business. If we are to continue having these murmurations, we need to protect these wonderful little birds. The planet has too many people. Especially people like that crabby old sod.

Playing Dead - Day 6

Bobby doesn't like the stepfather, as his expression makes clear.
   

Don't buy from Amazon UK!

It's going to be tough, but I really advise UK customers NOT to buy from Amazon any more. They used to arrange for faulty returns using Royal Mail. You could print out a label, stick it on your parcel, then take it to the post office to mail it. No more. You have to arrange collection with a company called Yodel (short for "Your Delivery"). I've had problems with this company before. They left a parcel outside my front door where someone opened it and rummaged through it to steal the contents. They failed to respond to ANY contact from me. I "arranged" a collection for today for either before 9.30 am or after 4 pm. Neither happened, and there was no card to suggest they'd tried to collect it while I was at work. They expect me to arrange a further collection date, but they cannot guarantee collection times. So I am expected either to lose a day's pay, or lose the substantial sum this crap satnav cost. The sums are pretty similar. Amazon has my money on deposit gaining interest, I have a faulty item I cannot return, just to add insult to the injury of my busted computer. Unless you have the ability to stay at home forever and wait for a faulty item to be collected, I really advise you not to buy from Amazon UK, in case you have to return something. The customer comes last for Amazon and Yodel.

Playing Dead - Day 5

Even the thought of those darling digits being damaged by a gun upsets me.
 

Playing Dead - Day 4

"The least I can do is offer my fans some neck to kiss."
 

Speaking Too Soon

Remember my "one down, 79 million to go" post? Well, it turned out not to be even one down.

When I tried to use the hot water function of my boiler today, it was back to Square 1.

Fortunately they were able to send out an engineer fairly swiftly. Even more fortunately, having decided that it really was the pump that was at fault, not just the wiring, he happened to have the right model in his van. Apparently this is unusual.

So my luck is still running about 90/10 against, instead of its usual 100% against.

Meanwhile, my striving to save energy took the latest absurd turn yesterday. My kettle is a wonder - it is lit from within and changes colour as it heats up and cools down. But the light stays on all the time unless I turn it off at the mains, which I sometimes forget. So I'm retiring a perfectly good kettle (I already have one perfectly good retired kettle) to use this little beauty, bought yesterday for half price in British Home Stores.

The indicator light goes off when it has boiled, so I don't have to remember to turn it off or back on again.

And isn't it just a great colour?I'm thinking about retiring my perfectly good toaster so that I can have a matching one...

Playing dead - Day 3

"They have to be kidding about this crap."