Originally posted 29/12/2008
Always wanted to get back into music, and fancied doing it by way of a saxophone. But they’re a bit expensive. And difficult to sing with at the same time…
So as we go to open mic nights, and friends have guitars, and I sing, the only way to go was with the same. So bought an acoustic-electric + amp courtesy of Santa.
Two weeks later and my fingertips are calloused, most chords are under my belt, and I’ve almost managed the f’ing F chord.
And it’s all very therapeutic.
Originally posted 30/10/2008
WTF? Fifty thousand words between 1 – 30 November. Seventeen hundred a day (2000 to be safe) every day for 30 days.
And the point? Although it’s quantity over quality, the aim is to get writing a first draft and discipline oneself. Amendments can come later. Many wish to write: few get on and do it. This is a personal challenge to meet an output target and produce the basics of a novel.
View the web site to get the full lowdown.
So I’m going for it.
- word count verifcation 50466.
And here’s the winner’s badge as confirmation.
Chuffed? You bet. And the name of the novel? Coincidence.
Originally posted 30/10/2008
A French neighbour lent me a home-made blaster – a lever operating a hammer which dropped onto a 12-bore cartridge. Four times the little blighter pushed up underneath the lever and spread the earth sideways. Four times he blocked tunnel traps and passed underneath. But then he must have got a bit cocky, because at 6 am there was a bang, and the little blighter copped it.
I couldn’t help feeling sad – after all, he was only doing what moles do. But there comes a time… Getting fed up with hills and stones everywhere, and ankles cockling over sideways walking on ruts and collapsed runs.
I’ve now ordered three tunnel traps should another mole take over his patch.
I had a blogger type blog, but for some reason deleted it (perhaps got fed up with widgets not working.) Anyway, as I had backed it up, I thought I’d post here my earlier musings.
Originally posted 31/8/2008
Heart-warming sight to see the Olympic athletes posed on the steps of the Jumbo at Heathrow.
But I knew it would happen. I just bloody knew it. At the top of the steps the large Union flag… upside down. Why, in view of the world, do so many people in the UK not know the orientation of their own flag?
On so many occasions, especially when there are hordes of kids and families at special events, all waving their flags, every last bloody one is upside-down. What is it with that damned flag and the unknowing populace? Why can’t they get it right?
And why is it upside-down? The hoist (the edge of the flag nearest the flagpole/mast and held by the stewardess) is on the left in the pic. The hoist dictates orientation and it is upside-down. The diagonal red cross of St. Patrick appears to have been rotated slightly clockwise against its white background. Turn the flag over and it will appear to be rotated slightly anti-clockwise – the correct position in relation to the hoist. Does it matter? That’s up to you.