Another day, another visit to the doctor. It was an early start on a damp and dismal day in rainy old Swindon, the traffic thrashing around in a sort of 'late for work' way. When the doctor called for me he asked "What can I do for you today?"
It was tempting to reply that I didn't know. Hey, I was asked to book this appointment. Come on Doctor, get your act together. Not that it would have made any difference. Apparently I'm going to be turned into a cyborg for 24 hours shortly. No, really
Frozen Britain now seems to be a communal obsession. Tv news devotes nearly half the program to features of people suffering the effects of actual winter conditions. It sort of gives you a warm feeling toknow that however bad it gets, the next county has it worse.
The trouble is though these weather reports are really not that reliable. A couple of days ago they showed blankets of snowfall about to drop on southern England. With typical British time-keeping, it might be a day late.
Check
They gave a weather warning last night. Heavy rain expected. They weren't kidding. I was woken by the cascade of water on the roof during the early hours. This morning I had to don waterproofs to walk down the road to the library and thats after the rain had eased somewhat. What a difference from yesterday when I was out on my hike. Here's a sample of the weather...
Pic of the Day
This ones a view of Coate Water in the cold December sunshine. Notice the ice on the surface. Coate Water is a
For a while we've had some cracking weather, lovely and sunny. Today though its cloudy, damp from yesterdays rain, and to be honest, quite a bit cooler. In fact, as I strolled across town in the mid-day gloom I could see my breath.
Then again, things ain't too bad. The rain yesterday didn't amount to a cyclone sweeping Swindon downstream in massive mudslides or tsunami's. nor did an earthquake reduce my local school to an impromptu graveyard.
Nature can be fantastic. A fluke of the weat
The misery goes on. In very un-swindon-like style, the snow started again last night and as I glance out the window of the library, it's just begun cascading down in thick torrents. Our local council now has only two days of grit reserves left to clear our roads and keep Swindon moving.
I'm biting my nails.
Weather Update of the Week
Oh. Its just reverted to that thin sprinkle of fine drizzly snow. Panic over. Phew.
What a lovely morning this is. Was, I should say. Earlier today I strolled through Swindon and the weather was sunny, just a hazy wall of cloud on the horizon, or mybe a few small globular clouds trying to creep across England without being noticed. The high altitude cloud is now changing the blue sky to a dull white, and grey ragged clouds are advancing on my position. Another rainy day to come? Like yesterday?
Yesterday was one of those 'love it or loathe it but you can't beat it' kind of
Was it something I said? Apparently, yes, it was. You might want to sit comfortably at this point because I want to begin this sorry tale of miscommunication.
Too late, I've started.
It was a dark and stormy night when I fired up the computer to search for employment. No, I'm lying, the weather's been quite reasonable lately and it was mid morning at the local library, so the only risk was a librarian moaning about my military surplus trousers and an ugly stare from the security guard wh
Nothing much to report today I'm afraid. A strong wid howls through the air conditioning, the world revolves on it's axis, and the good citizens at the library are behaving themselves, apart from one gent who made audible his disgust at Facebook, or the blood curdling scream from downstairs as the deadly were-librarian claims another victim. I'll need to be careful because I forgot my silver library card this morning.
The shocjk horror revelation today though is research by the Minnesota Pla
The bells... The bells... Ten o'clock and all is well. I know the time because the bells are tolling. You see, the library is built as an annexe to the old town hall, now used as a dance studio, and the clock tower is clearly audible. With victorian engineering to rely on, how could I possibly be unsure of the time? There was a time of course when the Great Western Works sounded that old steam horn at regular intervals. It was to mark the start and ends of shifts in our local dark satanic mill o
"You've had a wonderful life" My claims advisor had told me, having gleaned that pearl of wisdom fom my CV. Of course like all CV's it merely accentuated the positive. All those disasters and mistakes over the years never made it to the final draft, never mind the interminable hassles that life forces us to endure. She was of course trying to win my approval for her state sponsored rebuild of my appearance, character, and history, in the vain hope I might actually become employable. Little did s
As I draw ever closer to the day when recording my new album becomes a necessity, so the desire to be ready for it drives me on. I learned to play guitar in my early twenties though I have to confess I was never particularly talented or technically proficient - just good enough to embarass specialist players at my level - especially since I was a drummer by trade. Mostly I just embarassed myself.
Nonetheless it's been twenty years since I played guitar anything like seriously, so in order to
Last night, armed with a few quid in my pocket saved up for enjoying my festive season, I wandered down to the bottom of the hill to a chinese takeaway. Not a simple fish and chip shop like the one over the back of the hill, but a proper chinese meal purveyor.
I don't go there very often, prices being what they are, but they do a 'Mega Meal Deal' which is reasonable value for money. Basically you get a choice of three dishes plus free rice or noodles, and some spring rolls on the side. Not
There are two ailments that are so beloved of the British working class. The first is flu, or rather a bad cold, which has to be responsible for more days off than anything else. The second is backache.
I know a lot of people pull 'sickies' with this excuse, but honestly putting your back out for real is astonishingly easy to do and excrutiatingly painful when it happens. What makes it worse is that no boss in the whole united kingdom will believe you if you report your suffering.
The fi
Another day, another shopping trip. Once agai I trudge down to my local supermarket in a fruitless quest for bargains and cheap two for one deals. Yesterday the weather wasn't bad. Not like today with blustery rainfall, so I guess I chose the right day to go shopping.
Let's see... What can I buy?.... Most of the goods are the upmarket brands for people who follow the teachings of the prophet Jamie Oliver. Can't afford those. I don't care how many television adverts he makes. Five pounds does
After my daily stint at the library it was time to pop down to the supermarket for a few items to keep my stomach from rumbling. The street was busy as usual - Ooh look, there's that woman sat at the cafe opposite, staring at me again. Either she's an investigator for the Department of Work and Pensions (Ridiculous but these fantasies make my day so interesting) or she's stalking me (I'm going to find boiled bunnies in my flat before long - I just know it). It might just be I got up this morning
Yesterday I was browsing the net and just for a laugh did a search on my name (the real one, not my UNRV moniker). What's this? A facebook entry? Lets check it out....
Imposter! There's a guy in London pretending to be me! Here's a little clue if you ever get confused. He likes icelandic music, I don't. Thanks to social networking, he's more famous than I am. There is no justice!
Or Perhaps There Is...
Last night I starting reading a novel - a pleasure I rarely get time to indulge in th
An invite! I don't get a lot of those these days, so imagine my delight at receiving an email inviting me to a gathering in Bristol. Unfortunately an evening in Bristol is not the quick dash down the road it once was. Now it's a major expedition, planned and funded to the last detail, and oddly enough for someone who once thought nothing of driving two hours for a night out, off the edge of known universe. I guess that's what happens when convenient transport is no longer affordable.
And wha
There was program on last night called Bad Boys of the Blitz which detailed the flourishing crime scene and penal regime of World War Two Britain. Most of this activity had been hushed up by the authorities during the war for propaganda purposes, amnd the point was made that our current problems with law and order date back to this time. I had to laugh though. One old crook was interviewed and with a serious look on his face told us that "whenever there's a war you get outbreaks of violence".
Every so often we museum folk like to do something different. Some people might argue that museums are inherently dangerous with hazards that include customers, tyrannosaurus rex skeletons, or egyptian pharoahs with chips on their shoulders and enough bandages to cope. I would have to admit our little museum is a little less well stocked with such horrors.
Today we had Robot Day. Over the years there have been all manner of commercial robots available to the public. Some are clothed in fals
Given my prediliction for using computers I can hardly claim to be a technophobe, but I must confess when it comes to mobile phones I'm almost a luddite. I hate the things. Horrible little contrivances designed to frustrate the owner and annoy everybody else in the vicinity.
Buying them is a little problematic for me too. High street vendors are very keen to fit you into a stereotype, which annoys me greatly, because I just don't want a phone for the reasons they're trying to sell them. Wha
It might not suprise anyone but the snow showers never happened. Such is British weather. It was however very cold and I hear that we've been through one of the coldest winters of living memory, the average temperatures worse than the bitter and elongated winters of 1947/48 and 1961/62. Thankfully we didn't get that much snow. All I got was the sniffles.
It was however raining this morning. Not heavily, just a sort drizzly dampness that makes the pedestrianised street somewhat slippery, even
"Does anyone know anything about the Work Programme?" Asked the lady giving us our induction to what is a two year course aimed to return long term unemployed like me to the workplace.
Well there' been some horror stories circulating.
"Like what?"
That we will have to do 38 hours a week on our job searching.
"Oh no!" She chuckled, "That would be like a full time job wouldn't it?"
Exactly my thoughts. Well so far the programme seems very easy going, but I did hear hints that i
You can't have a museum without exhibits. Every so often we find new ones. Or should that be old ones? Anyway, our boss came across some stuff being thrown away at Portsmouth and couldn't resist an ancient computer. You should see it. Straight out of a 70's Doctor Who episode.
It turns out our new exhibit is a bog standard Bloodhound missile control box, or in civilian guise, a nuclear reactor control box. I'm not joking. Some power stations are still using these things to this day. Our boss
The Programme Centre has moved. They were inhabiting a pokey little place in that peculiar brick complex in the corner by the pub. You'd think that was very convenient, except the pub in question is a real 'sawdust on the floor and spit your broken teeth in the bucket please' kind of place.
I was in there a few years back, quietly minding my own business, nursing a pint like several others. In came a bunch of lads, making a lot of noise, bouncinng off the walls. To be honest I didn't pay mu
Time to start work on another row of cardboard boxes, all slightly deformed by the weight of those above them, and recognised only by marker pen grafitti. Stockchecking isn't rocket science. Open the box, count the contents, make a record of the result. It isn't always souch a welcome task however. In one warehouse a large bin stuffed with nearly eight hundred paperback books required a confirmation of the expected total and the bored individual left a penciled message "Probably" next to the opt
