Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Isn't it just a collection of milestones mingled in with a bunch of crazy scary stuff?
This morning (freezing cold, blazing blue skies) Henry and I went off to feed the ducks with all the leftover bread from Christmas. As we strolled back through Hometown we popped into see 'Uncle Merv' our friendly baker and sponsor of my teenage record buying habits. Then, with not much to do but drink a cup of milk and munch a snack it hit me.
Sure we could?
While I ploughed my way through a mansize-mega-munch-olympic-London2012-we won the war-hero-1966-allyoucaneat-disco- HenryCooper-breakfast special, Henry drank his milk and munched on some white bread and butter.
All around us blokes ate their breakfast and read newspapers, the waitresses were jolly and the tea piping hot.
Our first solo outing to a proper British greasy spoon caff.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
We'll be eating, drinking and rolling around on the floor. And of course, that most brilliant of English Christmas traditions, on Boxing day we will locate a hard to drive to, freezing beach and walk along it for a couple of hours.
Glad tidings to you and yours.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
My drive to work is gorgeous. Gorgeous but I never get a good look as I speed through the lanes at 60.
Bendy, scary country roads, some proper English countryside.
On Friday morning I pulled over on top of a 'hill' to take a couple of pictures, OK, I took them with my phone so the quality is not great but i hope you can get the general idea.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
So I think I've finally solved my barbershop connundrum.
In the olden days in Hometown there were a number of choices to be had if a fella was ever in need of a haircut.
There was Vic, there was John and there was the old boy down Damgate Street who was so old he closed up and retired when I was just a kid.
I mostly went to Vic
When I returned for the first time in 2000 there was no Vic anymore but there was a new kid in town. I let him cut my hair. Then I moved to New York and spent a number of happy years visiting the wacky singing Park Slope barbers on 7th Avenue. I loved those guys, even if they were a bit odd.
When I returned for the second time I once again gave the new kid my hair related business.
I used to go to the new kid until very recently.
I stopped going to the new kid for a number of small reasons, you know the way and inkling can become an itch which can become a query which then turns into an 'i dunno, maybe I'm bored of you' which becomes a 'soddit, I'm trying something new'.
Following a dodgy trim for my lil'un at the new kid's place and a chat with a friend I decide to give John another try. The thing is, John is no longer John but the bloke who bought the business from John a couple of years back. He's still waiting to put up a new sign.
I'd taken lil'un in there a while ago and the bloke who ran it was dead nice. Not all ooey gooey over the boy but neither was he slightly put out that I'd brought a toddler into his shop. He was friendly and normal and that's all I want. Not only that, he'd done a good job on the lil'un and kept him amused with a tractor impression.
This morning I ducked into his shop, had a great chat about Christmas, Olive oil (he loves the stuff, could drink it in pints), traditional and organic herbal remedies, the recession, what will Hometown do without Woolies, the pros and cons of shoplifting, business and beer.
We chatted so much he cut off a lot of my hair.
He cut off a lot of my hair and, as my sister was quick to point out, gave me exactly the same style as he gave the Lil'un a couple of weeks ago.
Still, that's what I went in for.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I stumbled across Listmaker's old photoblog (complete with bizarro global commenting).
Another time, another place, A much loved pastime (being drunk and clumsy, the smoking I don't miss)
For those of you who I should be having a beer with this Christmas, but can't, enjoy this image and the memories it might stir.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
I'm not a rereader of books. I tend to move on and move out, never go back.
I first read this book at highschool about twenty years ago.
I enjoyed it back then, along with the other English Lit books I studied for GCSE.
I picked this up the other day, it was lying about, it's one of Frau Random Doubt's favourites.
I could not put this book down.
It made me long for a lengthy bus ride or train journey. I would find a reason to sneak off to the loo and sit for twenty minutes.
I can't tell you anything you don't already know, I just loved it. And perhaps even better than just loving it, I loved that I loved it.
Thank you Harper Lee for writing this book.
Friday, December 05, 2008
This afternoon I witnessed a genius at work.
The child in question created a 'must have' buzz around an idea, a thing that could not be held or touched, taken away or even seen.
Other children paid good money to stick their hands inside 'Tommy's box of horror'. They rummaged inside the box, went 'oooh' and left, happy.
Only one child asked "what's the point? Is there a prize?"
He spent the whole time walking around the fair eating cake with a 4 foot toy snake wrapped around his neck whilst a couple of girls ran his stall.