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Wednesday 2nd May 2007
Village of the damned
Going more by instinct than anything else, I titled this entry. Currently (i.e. this week) I am travelling to Manchester (Piccadilly) in order to attend some Oracle DBA training. On the way there, I pass this huge building site (somewhere between Leyland and Chorley) that has intrigued me, but not much. However, whilst on the train tonight, I overheard (it wasn't difficult) some guy (I think a student) telling his two female friends all about exactly what was going on there. It was only later that night that I could put a name to this development - Buckshaw Village, nestling close to Matrix Park, both things that I had never heard of, up until recently. Further on, as I pass through the various Manchester train stations, there is this incredible building that definitely wasn't there last time I was in Manchester - Beetham Tower.
The Plague
Meanwhile . . . A****** has developed a strange rash over his legs and feet. M**** took him to the doctor this morning but she (the doctor) had no idea what it was and so gave the stock answer, "Probably a virus." Of course, the doctors always ask, "But how is he in himself? Apart from all the physical manifestations, the gangrene, the leprosy, the hemorrhaging, the foul stench, how is he in himself?" How is he in himself? That's what it all comes down to. When I came home, he seemed his usual self . . . running around, talking, shouting, showing off, that kind of thing. And when I said to him, "A******, isn't it bath-time now?", M**** saw him roll his eyes and carry on placing his toy bricks carefully on the floor . . . all usual A****** behaviour. But apparently that wasn't the A****** that M**** had to deal with throughout today. We're still not sure what the skin rash means. The doctor ruled out all the usual culprits and even heat rash, which I had suspected. Ah well.
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Friday 4th May 2007
    
So, yeah . . . the training in Manchester finished a bit early today, so I went along Canal Street, looking for a pub to get a drink. I ignored the bar called Queer and went for Churchills, a couple doors down from there, perhaps lured in by the sign on the window proclaiming, "Due to recent events, we will search all bags on premises," or similar. I got my drink and went outside, watching these two huge duck-like creatures and a duckling that seemed a bit lost. Then someone started shouting at me, "You can't take your glass out there. You gotta put it in a plastic glass." Uh? What? "You'll have to go back inside, get your drink in a plastic glass. I'm sorry," and so I did that. And then something jarred me, and so I drank up fast . . . I can't remember what it was.
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I then went for a wander, but returned to Canal Street and tried to enter a pub that sold something non-lagery, some decent bitter. Complete waste of time, of course. I entered Rembrandts and puzzled about the fact that all the clientéle were male. Not a single woman. I ordered a pint of Carlsberg and, noticing that it was being poured into a glass glass, informed the barman that I would be taking this drink outside, which changed the vessel accordingly. I was beginning to suspect all the pubs along this street catered to a certain cross-section of society, and so thought I would check out the fliers/postcards available in the entrance, hoping to corroborate my suspicions. I   
didn't get a chance to do this, as at that moment I was asked by a young man (entering the pub), with a big smile, "Are you going in or coming out?" although it may have been: "Are you going out or coming in?" I've no idea. The smile was far more suggestive than friendly, so I explained, "No, I'm off out of here," and headed back for the station, hurrying past two male skinheads hand-in-hand. So that's Canal Street then.
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Monday 7th May 2007
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Today we did meet Rob and Rosie at Bogle Crag, part of Grizedale Forest. It started off as a gorgeous, sunny day and stayed pretty much like that, despite the odd bit of cloud later on and a brief spell of rain whilst we were sat in a pub at Hawkshead. One of our aims was to find Andy Goldsworthy's, "Taking a wall for a walk" In this we failed, but found a wall with a strange, decorative hole in it, seemingly serving no practical purpose.
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Tuesday 15th May 2007
So I was reading something about Sam and Jackie's daughter, Laurel, saying various words and that got me wondering, "Can A****** say 'bye bye'?" and so I asked him. At the time, A****** was busy playing with his little plastic horse (which he calls 'clip clop') and some kind of moon buggy thing. A****** merely frowned at me in response to the question. I then kept pressing him, "A******, can you say 'bye bye'?" Eventually he turned around, frowned again, said a quick, "No," and then carried on playing with his toys. Ah well, that's boys for you.
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Friday 18th May 2007
Paint it pink
     
I was gonna write something here, but nothing springs to mind. Oh, I don't know . . . not much to read here, so why not go and download some Russell Brand 'podcasts' (and no matter what anyone says, a 'podcast' to me is going to remain as nothing more than a digital recording of a 'radio' programme) - they very funny, but you might end up looking kind of odd walking around in public, laughing to yourself.
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Sunday 20th May 2007
Nicky Nook
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Friday 25th May 2007
The red circles, or the green circles?
Hello. Yesterday I did go for an eye test. I was mildly bemused at how wrong they (Dollond & Aitchison) could get my details, name and date-of-birth, despite me providing all that information over the internet, but hey . . . A young lady called Rachel did my eye test and, whilst I've had one eye test before, it still freaks me out how close the, erm, eye-tester (optometrist?) must get in order to carry out their checks to the backs of the eyes. My eyes were largely all okay, with the recommendation for glasses essentially for night-time driving and attending the theatre. Theatre? I think she meant cinema. Well, whatever. -0.75, -0.25, 170 in the right eye (SPH, CYL and AXIS respectively) and -0.50, -0.75 and 80 in the left. I've no idea what any of it means (actually, I do now, having read the information provided in the web-site given above). Slightly short-sighted. I've also no idea why I've given you those numbers. It's not like people were going, "Gosh, I would love to get Jonath some spectacles for general use, but I just don't know his eye-ball measurements. Sigh. If only . . . "
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Wednesday 30th May 2007
The clippers freaked me out a bit, but this is really, really old news. I mean, wasn't Genesis P-Orridge doing this stuff long, long ago? Ah well, we can always imagine 10 spatial dimensions or play around with this. What on earth?
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