Banalities and Generalities

Apologies for the lack of blogging for those of you who give a fig and are not here to find a map of Barbados. A mixture of work, lack of motivation, illness and lack of inspiration has meant that there has not been a lot to write about, even if I wanted to. WindyBricks won 3-1 at the weekend, and looked quite good against some northern nonsense who sound like cow’s tits grazing, and the first two goals by Can’t and The Dresden Axeman were very well worked. When the bloke who lost an r off the supermarket sign headed in his first goal since transferring from the borough of ghastly Follett MP, the game was all but up. This week, We Three Kings Of the Fat Welsh Dartman are our hosts. Rigged snooker matches all round.

The Red Sox are 7 games up in the wild card, 6 games down in the division. Unless a cataclysm happens, the Sox will play the Angels in the ALDS starting in a fortnight. There really isn’t much else for me to add.

The next book to be reviewed (and I get the chance to read now I commute) will be Ashes Victory (2005) which very much falls into the category of “I should probably get this one out of the way”. It hasn’t had the most auspicious of starts, and has not been particularly enlightening thus far. Is there really any more to be said about that series?

I have in mind a post about the country of my wife, and which I think I need to talk about in my own way. It is revolving around in my head a bit, and it is not at all clear to me what the message will be. For the first time in my life, I really do believe my future may lie elsewhere – not the immediate future, but the mid-term one. And yet, the things that revile me about my current country, and the one I always will be a citizen of, no matter what the paperwork says, are creeping in in the States. Would it merely be jumping out of the fire place and into the fire? All I do know is I am off to Cape May in November and it doesn’t feel like a holiday to me. It feels like going to a second home. I know when I walk the border collie I look up and see the aeroplanes flying in to Heathrow and think – I so want to be on one of those, having come back from the USA. Oh well, I’ll come to that sooner or later.

So, surprisingly people, you have a calm and considered Dmitri – I am not feeling too angry about anything except the gaping hole in the sleeve of my shirt. I built a chest of drawers from Ikea on Sunday to go with the garden furniture. Work is going very well with most people happy with me for once in a while. I am enjoying the married life, despite a lot of the time probably giving off the impression that I don’t, and feel a lot less stressed. Commuting has been fine, with little to annoy me. I have a break coming up. I don’t care what the dietitian says to me. Hatchet Harriet scares me more next week.

I hope to get enthused soon. I am sure something – like Carol Kirkwood putting the Aussie dust storms down to a hot summer in Australia (guess she can’t figure out why they play test cricket in December and January down under then) – or another ludicrously bent decision going the Crimson Snide’s way will put fingers to keyboard, but at the moment, I have a Billy bookcase to build, TVs to take to the recycling units and a state visit from the Mum in Law to prepare for.

More Scotland Photos – Saturday 20 June – Part 2

Once we’d left Fort William, we headed south and south east to the road through Glen Coe and up to Rannoch Moor. The following are some pictures of the spectacular, beautiful scenery we encountered…

Looking West From Glencoe Visitors Centre

Looking North East at Ballachulish

Looking East at Cloud Covered Mountains

Another View Of Cloudy Tops Of Mountains

As you can tell, the weather on this day was a bit dank and drizzly, but in some ways it seemed to make the place more atmospheric. We left the visitors centre, and set off up the road. We drove into the National Trust centre for a bite to eat, and then set off up the road towards Crianlarich. The road became amazing as we continued up through a mighty valley..(well by UK standards).

Looking Eastwards and Upwards

Clouds Are Gathering

Looking Down Glencoe

Waterfalls In The Mist

More Waterfall...

Drizzle, Mist, Greenery, Waterfalls...Beautiful

The next instalment will have Rannoch Moor on it, and then onto Killin Falls… The beloved took some pictures too, and some are attached below too…

This Boat Has Seen Better Days....

Cold Up Top....

And one last one from the camera on the phone…

The Valley Road

Rainbows And Thunderclouds

A couple of weeks ago London got hit by storms. We also had a rainbow. Some photos….

Rainbow Up Above

Twice As Nice

Sunshine In The Storm

Gloomy Clouds Through My Pruned Trees

I’m Back. And I Want To Rant…

The holiday is over. The weather may be glorious and sunny, but not glorious and sunny enough that it can withstand me laying out on a sun lounger on Saturday - within 20 minutes we had thunder and lightning. Bob and Bonio shouldn’t bother with concerts. Send me out to Ethiopia or Sudan and I’ll turn the Sahara into a very wet sandpit.

Turned on BBC Breakfast news, where we had some odious fascist bint preening herself about how wonderful she and her fellow councillors were to enforce a ban on alcohol being drunk outdoors in Brighton. Coming from a town that employed the gestapo to enforce the most un-driver friendly parking restrictions known to man, I’m sure the Hitler wannabes are well and truly proud. The gurning idiot Richard Westcott suggested that the police had been enforcing the rules over-zealously, you know, by probably stopping a law-abiding citizen coming out of Tescos with a four pack of Stella in a carrier bag, but the preening Eva Braun was having none of it, saying she knew nothing of these “isolated incidents”. Missing the point entirely, she said that the council and the police had a great relationship. Which is nice. Maybe if the police had rounded up the drunken idiots in the first place as the law allows, then maybe, just maybe, someone who’d like a cold beer while lounging on the beach – and who is totally law abiding – could do so without the Waffen Brighton Council SS descending on them. As many have said, they’ve pretty much done all they can with smoking, so now it is the alcohol consumers they are coming after.

Anyone not in East London know where the “Eastway” is. Well, I know now. But I didn’t on Friday night at the end of a 12 hour drive down from Newtonmore in Scotland. According to the board on the North Circular, the Eastway was closed. I found out that it was the underpass between Old Ford and Leytonstone that takes M11/A12 drivers down to the Blackwall Tunnel. At 10:30 on Friday night it was shut. Now I know what Homerton and Hackney look like. I also know that the authorities who decided to close the thing at this time are fucking inconsiderate morons who assume that everyone who uses the major north-south London cross route will know what the fucking Eastway is, and for shutting the thing at a pretty busy time judging by the considerable queue. If I had five minutes with these pricks.

When we got home, our beloved gestapo Met Police were on helicopter duty, buzzing over area nice and low, nice and noisily, and nice and considerately at 12:30 in the early hours of Saturday morning. After a week of relative peace and quiet, this intrusion was most certainly not appreciated, given my eyes were popping out of my head, and the dog didn’t know whether it was coming and going. I’m sure Chopper Squad were doing invaluable work. Probably trying to find someone who drunk a shandy on Brighton Beach in contravention of the law!

Why are weather people warning us about the effects of heat by referring us to NHS Direct? In extreme cold, like we had in February, they weren’t referring us to the local council for help with our fuel bills, or snow ploughs are us to get us out, so why now? I mean, heat kills a lot more than cold, doesn’t it? Pricks.

Don’t even start me on Michael Jackson. Oh well, you did. I happened to admire a lot of his music, and some of the stuff not from the Thriller / Bad era. I liked the Dangerous album, which had some cracking tracks on by Teddy Riley, and also some of the later stuff too. I maybe glossed over all the lurid personal life stuff, which is a bit hypocritical, but as a musician, I had the utmost respect. He was a freak, no doubt, in all senses of the world. But really, the media went all Diana on us and the zombie populace followed with bells and whistles on. An amusing interlude came as I careered down the A12 on the way to the Eastway blockage. It was on a Radio 5 show hosted by Stephen Nolan. A level-headed gentleman did the decent thing in ringing in by saying the media were stoking up hysteria and that people who came on crying in grief at the loss of a remote, isolated, lunatic were not exactly reacting in proportion.

If you blame the media on these phone ins, watch out. Nolan got all prissy. The chap ringing in said the reaction had amused him. Nolan said what was amusing about the gut-wrenching reactions of people who had never met the bloody recluse (I’m paraphrasing). He then teed up someone from his Ulster show who was blubbing away. Proving the point to me, that these people are a trifle unhinged. As I said to the beloved “these people have evidently not lost someone really close to them…” We then had a breathless need for the mostly garbage line-up at Glastonbury to name check Michael Jackson, as if it actually meant something if they did. Why? Why does it matter if there is any reaction? Some no mark band made a stupid joke, which is a bit like Jimmy Krankie having a pop at Mike Tyson. Huw Cornwell said he wasn’t going to dedicate a song to Michael Jackson, showing how edgy he is at 94 years old. Someone who I never heard of laced a line of a Jackson song in, as if it was some momentous reaction rather than saying about the artist who did it “who?”.

No. Diana syndrome. A freak dies in mysterious circumstances. The freak’s family are going to play this for all its worth. And the actual importance of the bloke, as genius of his age, will be consumed in more freakery than could ever be imagined. I’m not so much amused, as bemused.

Later, for more of the same.

Hoping For The Best For Roatan

All seems quiet about the Roatan Earthquake yesterday. As my reader might know, the beloved and I stopped off there on our honeymoon last year, and although we won’t be rushing back there is certainly no ill will on my part and the fact that a 7.3 earthquake hit it 30 odd miles offshore sounds serious enough to me. There certainly did not appear to be too much in the way of sturdy infrastructure when I was there, so maybe that is a saving grace.

I thought I’d add a couple more photos from our visit, which wasn’t in the greatest of weather and probably hindered the look of the place as a Caribbean hot-spot…

Grey Skies Over West Bay

The Beach

It Could Have Been So Different - If Only The Weather Played Ball

Darkness Descends On Roatan

Selling In A Force 8

Everything Open!

Storm Clouds Over West Bay

Leaving In The Evening

Roatan In Blue....

If Only The Weather....

Map Of The Island...

Note This Story…

If the summer is a total washout like the last two, which were both predicted to be “warmer than normal” but which turned out to be damp squibs…

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/4/20090430/tuk-weathermen-predict-warm-dry-summer-dba1618.html

They could not predict that last summer would be crap, but we set government policies on their abilities to tell us what it will be like in 50! Jog on…

BBC Breakfast Climate Change…

Oh dear. It didn’t take long this morning. I switch on the TV to find out how the cricket went last night, and given I was taking the old jalopy into work this morning, to find out what the tunnel situation was like before another one of the climate loonies was allowed his say. This one was official. This one was from the Environment Agency. The fact the muppet sounded like an automaton off a soundboard with cliche after cliche in what I recognise from my days in a job preparing this as “line-to-take speak” was one annoyance. The fact he was patronsing and moved his arms in a clearly coached way was another. The fact he was talking total bollocks on behalf of the highwaymen who run our water industry now is quite another.

The argument being that in 40 years time (we’ll all remember this in 40 years, won’t we) that our river beds etc. could dry up by over 80% leaving us all thirsty and in dirty clothes. Hmmm. I thought the really wet summers we’ve had the last couple of years have been due to climate change, and haven’t they replenished our reservoirs? Now these hot summers are going to be dry, and London and the South East will be the new Costa Del Sol, if you believe these soothsaying morons who couldn’t predict tomorrow’s weather, let alone 40 years down the road. The guy in Newcastle who did a passable impression of the contempt I’d have shown said instead of the water companies hitching their convenient bandwagon onto the lovely climate change kerching circus, could they actually look after the water they have first before lecturing us. You know, selling reservoir land to build houses, leakages in the pipes, inefficiencies down the chain. that sort of thing.

Environment Agency Patroniser waved his hands in a vaguely disturbing manner to give effect to “comforting” and instead got a huge “why don’t you fuck off” from your’s truly, waking the beloved from her enchanting slumber.

I see what goes through her mind - “why do you watch this?” And the truth is, I don’t know. But they’ve won, these cretins who’ll send us back to the dark ages, in the eyes of the BBC and the politicians. They’ve won. It saddens me, it angers me. I don’t believe those that can’t convince, and these do not convince me. When you use the climate change handle to control and to implement the most authoritarian of rules which binds us all, you are moving down the slippery slope to totalitarianism, because that’s the only way this plan can work – verboten, forbidden, control, penalty, punishment, non-compliance. I know I’m not the only one who can see it. But what can anyone do?

Oh well. Be happy. The clock’s went forward….. Another British Summer beckons. Bet we won’t be confusing Margate and Malaga any time soon.

Yo! VIP. Let’s Kick It….ICE ICE BABY…

It would be remiss of me not to moan about this bloody weather.

 

It is the usual story, but yet again so true. How comes this city can’t cope, and I don’t buy the “we aren’t Moscow” line that has been trotted out this winter. On the posting below you will see a picture of the hill I live at the bottom of. The north face of the Eiger it is not. In days gone by, located on the left hand side of the photo, there used to be a container of salt / grit so that even if the council forget us again, at least the residents would be able to take some action to get us out of the estate. That container has disappeared, and so has our ability to salt 100 metres of road to let cars get up the hill and on to the gritted main road. F*ck Moscow like infrastructure, all we want is common sense. Why has this been taken away?

 

Second, at least when snow fell in the past, we only had to wait a day for action. Now into the second day and the pavements are like sheets of ice. Some stations have not been cleared of snow (Mottingham this morning was a joke). The DLR, which is not, as far as I am aware, staffed much at each station had all their platforms clear. Are Southeastern just a bunch of lazy bastards? Has Robert Blackbird got them on a go-slow for elfin safety?

 

Then there was my train journey. All trains were Mumbai commuter packed, but my particularly lovely experience of being wedged onto a train was augmented by the 15 minute stop at Hither Green. What a joy that was! I trundled up to work a mere 30 minutes late – but grateful to have made it. South East London obviously living up to its reputation as the dark side of the moon.

 

Even where I work has seen little in the way of removal of ice skating rinks. Are they really hoping we all break our wrists on this stuff?

 

I shall be setting out for the wild blue yonder soon, and hope to make it home in time for my next birthday. WindyBricks are no go tonight, so it’s a night in with the beloved and Fox News reporting back even more on those crazeeeee Americans.

 

It’s snow joke.

Last Day In The Office….

And a couple of observations for those mad enough to still be with me…

I’m all for this global warming lark. We’ve had a couple of crap summers, so some nice hot weather would do very nicely. Good to see the USA is having a very mild winter as evidenced by this.

And the Bears had to overcome the elements, too, as did the Packers.

The temperature at Soldier Field was announced at 2 degrees, making it the coldest home game in Bears’ history since records started being kept in 1963. The wind chill was 13 below, the second-lowest in recorded team annals, so the longtime rivals known for their ability to play in cold weather were tested by the elements.

You’d think a planet warming like it is wouldn’t be setting record low temperatures. Oh well. I suppose this year is a one-off. No record cold weather last year…

The projected high of 6 degrees for Green Bay, Wis., earlier in the week would feel almost balmy.

At 3:30 p.m. — 2:30 at Lambeau Field — the temperature was 0 degrees, with wind gusts of 12 miles an hour making it feel like it’s 17 below.

Meantime, the Patriots and Chargers began their game in Foxborough, Mass., in windy conditions with a temperature of 23 degrees, the lowest of the three AFC championship games played in Foxborough.

The previous low there for a title game was 27 degrees on Jan. 12, 1997 when New England beat Jacksonville 20-6 to advance to the Super Bowl where it lost to Green Bay 35-21 in New Orleans.

The lowest temperature for any Patriots game at Foxborough was 4 degrees in a 17-14 win over Tennessee on Jan. 10, 2004 in the first round of the playoffs.

Hurry up with this warm weather…mild winters….

Caught the overtime of the Chicago Bears v Green Bay game last night, and apart from looking utterly bone chilling, the Bears appeared to have all the luck in keeping their faint play-off hope alive (I think the Vikings will beat the Giants on Sunday as the reigning champs have less than zero to play for). According to the Mrs Dmitri, last night’s result eliminated the Philadelphia Eagles – and I know that she is utterly devastated about that…

Good to see Ian Bell stating his case to stay at number 3 in the batting line-up. What a fighting knock to make sure we get a draw. Also hilarious to see Yuvraj Singh taking the p*ss out of KP this morning. First he acted as if he got injured picking up the ball, then mimicked a pie-thrower. Nice one Yuvraj… When you get your test batting average up 15 clicks, then maybe you can talk to KP about your play as equals. As KP said “you are not a god, you are just a cricketer. And I’m a better one.” That said, I like the needle, and I must say, Yuvraj did bring a chuckle this morning. Better characters than automatons, and both Yuvraj and KP (although he takes himself far too seriously) are definitely not robots.

Posting may be sparse in the next few days, but those of my readers, old and on the off-chance new, should put their entries into the cricket game below. Come on, give it a go… even my american friends, who can guess and will probably do better than us who think we know!!!

If I don’t post, Merry Christmas. If I do post Season’s Greetings!

Friday On The Cape

A dull old morning out on the New Jersey shore as I sit in the apartment watching the ever fascinating weather channel going on about Hurricane Ike. There are nutters on the shore in Texas who are standing by the sea wall as mountainous seas crash in. You seriously need your head read if you are messing about with seas fuelled by hurricanes. I sometimes doubt the sanity of the madmen who report on the things, but they are at least being paid for it – these deluded fools are doing it for fun!

Rain is threatening the Phillies v Brewers game which would put the tin hat on a summer ruined by rain on both sides of the Atlantic. I have spent a fair bit on this trip out here this time around, but I would be disappointed if the rain ruins the day today as I want one of those retro T shirts I bought previously.

I suppose a channel like the Weather Channel could only succeed in the States – our weather is nowhere near exciting enough – hurricanes, tornadoes, severe storms, ice storms, snow events, droughts, intense rain that makes our storms look like drizzle (Lubbock in Texas got 7 inches of rain yesterday!) – whereas we go loopy if the wind gets above 30 mph.

More ramblings when I have something to ramble about.