Holiday like an Egyptian!

So we're back from Egypt. The holiday I was dreading...a bit. Smelly, dusty, poor, living its past glory days.

How wrong can you be? Well except for insisting Sadam had weapons of mass distruction or that George Bush and Tony Blair could be trusted...

We (Kaz, Josie ann, Craig and myself) flew out and the journey was about 6 hours. As I was going through Gatwick security I got stopped. Only a moment before I had been quipping about looking like a member of Bader Meinhoff on my passport. The security made me empty my hand luggage (a day sac) and then scanned it again. Nope. The security still were not happy. I stood there bemused. Finally they waved me through. When I was unpacking my sac I discovered wedged right in the bottom a serrated edged knife, Kaz and I use for camping! Shite! Try explaining that one! It became a standing joke for the rest of the holiday.

The hotel was fantastic- right at the end of Sharm El Sheikh and the staff were so friendly and never had their hand out! Everywhere else tipping was expected, nay demanded! We flew to Cairo after a couple of days to see the pyramids. I was really not fussed about it. But when I saw them in situ I was dumb struck. This might seem obvious, but they were so big! The first one built had over 2.6 million bricks in it! And we're not talking house bricks, but bricks two or three metres wide and maybe 1.5 metres high! Later we went to the Egyptian Museum, but we were all tired and the museum is ancient and unsuited for the huge exhibitions available within its portal. But I did get to see Tutankaman's death mask, which was incredible although it did have a little ding in it. But that just made it more real somehow.

Jo had her 21st birthday during the holiday. She didn't want any fuss and thought she got away with it. But I had secretly planned a surprise for her. At the restaurant they brought out a huge basket of flowers and sparkling wine. Then over the PA the dongs of Big Ben chimed and the refrain of "Happy Birthday" boomed out. Jo blushed a fetching shade of crimson! But I think she was glad we made the effort.

Kaz and I also went off for a Bedouin "Experience". This involved being driving into the Sinai desert and riding bloody camels (see photo above). They are strange beasts to ride and I nearly shit myself as it stood up with me clinging on for dear life to the saddle's pummel muttering "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" They we had some mint tea, ate a meal and smoked a bubbly pipe in the shade of a shelter, that couldn't really be called a tent. The Bedouin danced for us (no sign of women- all men). As the night sky descended we were driven off for star gazing. Unfortunately there was a half moon and its silver light caused more light pollution that street lights in Woodingdean! But al in all it was a good afternoon and evening and Kaz and I got some time on our own.

Jo had chosen this destination because of the snorking and fish you could see. Me? Swimming like a shovel and all, I had not the faintest interest. But Kaz really wanted me to try it, so I went in near the jetty at the hotel. The Red Sea buoyed me up and I could put my feet on the sea floor. What an amazing sight! All around the coral were fish of every shape, size and colour! Angel fish, box fish, puffers, parrot fish! Even I became a convert. Kaz saw a Dorree, but no Nimo!

Maybe I'm getting old... This year I took care not to burn! Although I did manage to get too drunk on two occasions. It wasn't Jo giving me dagger looks for showing her up...it was Kaz! Talk about pot calling the kettle black!

I had a great time and got to spend time with Jo, which I rarely do these days, and I got to assess Craig her new boyfriend... What's he like? He'll do!

Facebook

Is it me or is everyone going FACEBOOK crazy? Kaz used to moan at me because after putting the kettle on in the morning I would turn on the computer. Now she beats me to it, sits there slurping tea and munching on toast. A friend put on her status update that she was late for work!

Rewind. You had time, when you're late for work, to put that onto Facebook before you went? See? Crazy!

On the other hand, you get miserable ol' gits like Ty who has been set up, but thinks its humbug and refuses to acknowledge friend requests... including mine! How hurtful is that? Sometimes I think he just doesn't care like he used to! Mind you, this is the bloke who went out with a group of us to a Tapas bar in Ibiza, helped order about 20 dishes, then say Tapas wasn't real food (as the juice of a shrimp ran down his chin...)

I think FACEBOOK is great. You can catch up with mates, send them video, photos etc. Its a bit less impersonal than email and more interactive. Any site that allows you to send Family Guy quotes to other people, gets my vote.

Egypt

So we're off to Egypt tomorrow morning, leaving the two youngest in the care of their grandmother whilst Kaz, Jo, her boyfriend and myself escape the rain and go and burn to a crisp at Sharm El Sheikh. Its Jo's 21st birthday and this is what she wanted to do. So its been fraught! Work is full on, Kaz bro's partner just had her first baby, we're trying to remortgage and Kaz and I were both trying to finish the books we have been reading! How sad is that!

Bags are packed, passports found, lost, then found again! Currency changed. My wardrobe discussed by Kaz and Jo- who never spares your feelings. She looks you up and down, arches an eyebrow, gives you one of those contemptous looks that say "Dad, you're NOT wearing that, are you?" Of course then I play up by suggesting wearing my boxers on my barnet as a form of head gear! Jo breaks and whines, "Tell him mum, I'm not being seen dead with him like that!" Jesus! You put your pants on your head and suddenly everyone is a fashion critic!

Anyhow I have about five books for the holiday. YES FIVE! I intend to drink, read, get a bit hot and have a dip in the pool. And repeat the process ad infinitum until I fall into the pool because I might have "overdone the sun a bit"! People think 5 books is alot, but they cater for my different moods!

Not so much WoWo as WOW WOW!

Its been a busy summer for me, but last weekend I got to go away with Kaz on my own! It was bliss! We left on Friday and drove to a newly opened campsite near Sheffield Park called WoWo. It was on a organic farm but most importantly allowed camp fires and tries to get campers to recycle.

We got there and pitched our tent in a lovely recessed piece of the first field. We ate, drank far too much and generally had a great evening, although we killed two bottles of Weston's Organic Cider, a bottle of gin and a bottle of wine! Needless to say we felt like death warmed up the following morning.

We walked down passed the Bluebell railway and onto a very yuppy "Trading Boundaries" shopping, er building? Its a beautiful place to visit and is a real pleasure to walk around, but as I fingered the price labels I couldn't help wondering who could afford this stuff!

There were some beautiful trees on the way including a huge old oak tree that was now dead, but when you approached it from one side it looked like a knot of wooden cordage.

We walked back to the campsite and chilled out for the afternoon. Kaz tried her best to relax and managed it for about three hours. But in the end cracked under the strain and insisted on "doing something"...No, that meant going off exploring. We found loads of green hazelnuts and discovered they can be eaten that way, so we ended up foraging them and more sloes for my famous sloe gin that will be ready for xmas.

Then Kaz thought we should visit the Sloop pub, despite my suggestion that we do that the following day. Hey what do I know! The walk to the pub took us through Wapsbourne woods and down to the Ouse and a very quiet pub. We drank our cider and watched squirrels chasing each other through the trees and a Robin playing peakaboo in the hedge.

By the time we walked back, cooked dinner and made a fire we were both pretty bushed. We kept trying to party, but failed and retired to bed about midnight.

The following day we explored the site and chatted to the owner, an interesting bloke into laylines and other so called "new age" theories. We wanted to stay another night but I had an early start the following day so I couldn't.

We returned home with heavy hearts.

Poxy Ty

Jesus! Its been months since my last entry! I've had a great holiday in Ibiza, been to Montana, been to summer camp, etc. I will have to come back to them latter. This entry is about Ty...again! A couple of weeks ago we were due to go to Sally's house a Palestinian dinner... at least that's what I called it to wind her up.

Kaz and I called on the Goddards on the way. Poor Izzie was covered in chicken pox! Ty had been to Goodwood and had bought for him the most hideous jacket- green and blue check! Now !I'm not known for my satorial elegance but....!

Mr G lay semi prostrate feeling sorry for himself. "Bloody self inflicted wound" I thought to myself, and I could see the same thought dance fleetingly across Tina's face.

Anyhow I gave him a hug and his face was like a furnace! It brought back to me when I caught chicken pox at 17. At that point I knew for sure he had caught it too. We all went to Sally's and had a great evening, although Ty fell asleep on the sofa and I placed chocolates upon his nose or threw them at him to wake him up.

Two days latter I got a text from him "I've got chicken pox" it simply stated...

A piece of pie

You can learn a lot about people and their attitude towards things by the way they eat pie. Some people wolf it down; the dessert barely touches the sides. They don’t taste the food, then look hungrily on whilst others eat theirs more slowly. For them the dessert is merely a physical thing to fill their stomachs. They are the people ready to take advantage of a second helping before anyone else gets a look in. Then there are those who eat a slice from the thin end of the pie, savouring the flavours. They start off with a small piece allowing the taste buds to tingle, gradually eating larger and larger segments going up the pie. It’s almost like building up to an orgasm. They are your deferred gratification types. Then there are those who deconstruct the pie. Perhaps there is a little too much cream on it? Perhaps the pastry is too flaky or too soggy? Maybe they don’t like biscuit bases. Instead of refusing the pudding, they pull it apart to get to the bits they like. They seek to impose their world view upon an external entity. They read the last chapter of a novel out of sequence to see if they like the ending.

And then there is Ty! The other night Kaz and I finally got to see Sally’s house and have a meal with her after several aborted attempts. Ty and Tina were there, and Paula (whose boots are made for walking!) joined us too. The meal was excellent and Sally fussed around feeding us course after course. Then we came to dessert. There was a fruit salad made up of berries and a home made cheese cake. Slices of the rich dessert were cut, the biscuit base thick and crunchy and the topping sweet yet light. A normal slice was plenty. Ty, clearly a dessert kind of guy, started on the fruit intending to progress to cake. But disaster! Tina, his wife, was in charge of proportionment. Now was her opportunity to wreak her terrible revenge on the unwitting Ty for all the slights he had ever given her. Philosophers say revenge is a dish best served cold… I don’t know if they were thinking of cheese cake, but this was to be the instrument that those sages had warned of.

Tina, winked to Kaz on Ty’s off side and with slow deliberation cut him a wafer thin slice of cake and passed it to him with her sweetest of smiles. It was like a knife to the heart. Ty’s eyes bulged slightly then narrowed to two slits- like Gordon Brown being advised that public sector unions didn’t think much of the pay freeze. "Is that it?" He enquired with barely suppressed rage. The rest of us, admittedly having had a few sherbets, fell about laughing.

Ty started to protest. Tina, he pointed out, knew how much he loved biscuit based desserts! And look at the slices everyone else had been given. He appealed to natural justice and all that is holy for another, more substantial piece of pie. Finally Tina relented. Or did she… No. she was determined to drive the dagger home. She cut Ty another slice only slightly wider than the last! He howled out his frustration and pain!

"It’s not fair!" He spluttered. "Look at everyone else’s pieces. They all got a goodly slice! Mine is pathetic…" At this point Kaz casually tossed in one of her verbal hand grenades. "You’re an only child aren’t you Ty?"

It was obviously now open season on all Ty Goddards. Sally turned to Paula and asked if her other half (David) who was working hard at home would like some of the much sought after dessert? Paula confirmed he would love it. There was still a fair wedge of pie left. Ty could get another piece by sharing the amount left over with David.

NOT ON YOUR NELLY!

Tina proceeded to scoop up the whole left over slice, dump it into a bowl and hand it to Paula… "Light the blue touch paper," I muttered to myself. And? Nothing! It was shock and awe all over again. Ty was almost speechless. Of course he carried on bravely, but we all knew the battle was lost and like the Iraqi Republican Guard his resolved melted into the night.

But I couldn’t help wondering, was this the end of the matter or would Ty like the insurgent Iraqis have the last laugh?

Sussex Ouse Valley Way Day 3

The final day of the walk started at the Chalk Pit Inn with a fantastic breakfast. We were well rested and ready to go. We had to retrace our steps to Offham and then cut down a bridleway that took us down through a wood and then took us along the side of a stream linking up with the Ouse. There was an enormous cacophany of sound coming from the stream. We thought it was ducks, but when we looked closer it was some frogs or toads. I have never heard such a loud noise from something so small. It was incredible.

The path then followed the river and crossed and led us into Lewes. We stopped off at the Harveys brewery shop and Dad bought a couple of bottles of ale to take home with him. Lewes is a funny little town. Its really middle class but also, whereas say Cheltenham is Tory, is definitely liberal with a small L. It still makes me scoff a little I guess.

Heading out of Lewes the path again followed the river. We headed towards Mount Caburn. The massive hill instantly recognisable across the Ouse, with paragliders taking off from its summit- loking like silk hankies. It this point we were now more able to see the birdlife on the river, Egrets, Herons, Canadian Geese etc. Pretty much this day followed the river along its winding course.

Soon we were heading through Rodmell, a delightful Sussex village. We stopped at the Abergavenny Arms. The pub garden was full of people with plummy voices that got under my skin. But we were thirsty so we sat there and Kaz and I had cider... but I managed to sit on a chair that had been hosed down and was still wet! So I ended up with a wet arse! I wasn't pleased!

As we approached Newhaven the path swung away from the river and took us inland along a path lined with trees. The path led up a hill and we stopped for lunch on the hill before continuing on. The sun beat down and we chilled out. There was something relaxing about sitting there laughing, chatting and feeling the grass beneath us. The run into Newhaven was the least enjoyable part of the walk, but I have never been na big fan of Newhaven. We stopped at another pub near the port- but it was the biggest craphole I have ever been in, still the beer was cold.

At the end of the walk we headed to Bishopstoke station and just missed a train! As we waited for the next train, rabbits came out and sat on the other platform, like long eared commuters!

It was a great walk and we all enjoyed it tremendously. Kaz now is up for the 1066 walk- about 30 odd miles- which we could do in two days.

Watch this space!

Sussex Ouse Valley Way Day 2

We got up in the morning to a cooked breakfast, which quite frankly was not the best I've seen, although the sausages were the bollox (Kaz wasn't impressed, being a veggie an' all). We said goodbye to Heidi, bought some lunch for eating on route and headed out. The sun was already out by 9.30 and it proved to be a very hot day. The path headed south east towards Scaynes Hill and entered Henfield Woods.


Before we got to the Sloop pub we managed to go off in the wrong direction. We managed to realise our error shortly and after much head scratching, chin rubbing and sucking of teeth managed to get back onto the route. It was probably the only time on the walk that the signposting let us down. Ironically the book instructions were the same for the point we found ourselves in, although they refered to Wapsbourne Woods- not the woods we were in. We walked pretty fast to make up time, because we had to cover about 17 or 18 miles to get to the Chalk Pit Inn above Lewes by the end of the day. As we climbed through Wapsbourne Woods we reached the crest and hidden maybe 50 yards back from the path were a number of Roe Deer, watching us intently with big, round eyes.

Soon we had arrived at Sheffield Park station heading towards Rotherfield Woods and Fletching Common. It was slightly after midday when we reached Newick. The village has three pubs and somehow I think we managed to chose the most overpriced. Dad was outraged and spent the rest of the day in shell shock that two pints of lemonade and two pints of beer were £13! We sat and soaked up the sun for an hour and then we pressed onto the next stage of the path.

This took us out of Newick on a road as far as Founthill, where we finally got off the road and headed across country once more. Soon we were walking along the Ouse until we got to a point where we could hear the roaring of water. This was the weir above Isfield. WE sat a while, eating our lunch and watching the grey wagtails play in the dappled light. We continued to walk along river, passing the reconstruction work on the Isfield lock- a reminder of the industrial past of parts of Sussex, reclaimed by nature, so that the casual passerby would not even imagine that here once had been a busy paper mill.

Soon we entered familiar territory - the paths around Isfield that Kaz and I have walked a couple of times- it was here I picked my sloes last year for my first batch of sloe gin. As we walked along the river I bumped into Cyril Bourke, the permanent officer of the Student Union at Brighton Poly. Having said "Hi" we continued until we reached the "Anchor" and retopped the alcoholic contents of our bodies. Again we headed out onto the path, reluctantly leaving this haven of peace behind. The path continued to follow the Ouse until we reached Barcombe Mills. More weirs and rushing water and an old toll booth with charges attached.

The path now headed inland across farmers fields until we reached Hamsey and here we left the path to climb the hill up to Offham, turning onto the A275 and finding ourselves outside the Chalk Pit Inn. This was our B&B for the night. The Inn used to be the offices of the old chalk pit here, and Kaz and I have stayed here previously. Again Heidi joined us and after sinking another well earned pint we went to freshen up. We ate in the restaurant that night. John and I had home made steak and kidney pudding- delicious! Latter we went to the bar and drank so more pop. Dad was on good form that night and hit it off with the young landlord. When Dad went to bed, the landlord said he wished he had a dads like that. I offered to sell him mine...

Finally, I guess about midnight we went off to bed, as we could afford a latter start on the third day, given we only had about 10 1/2 miles to do.

Sussex Ouse Valley Way Day 1

I've been waiting to start this walk for weeks now. Kaz continually checked the weather. It was going to rain. No, it was going to be sunny for three days. No, it was going to rain... etc, etc. The walking party consisted of Kaz, Dad, John (Kaz' bro) and myself.

We caught the bus to Lower Beeding and started walking. Almost immediately it started to rain, a fine downpour and we quickly entered a woodland which bordered Leonardslee Gardens. The first village we got to was Slaugham which has a unique ols style telephone box- painted white. Then we entered Handcross and the rain intensified. We decided to beat a hasty retreat to the pub. We sat there relaxing with a pint and watching the rain falling with increased intensity. We finally got our sacks together and headed back onto the track. From there we entered more woodland (Nymans wood) and desended towards a small lake, as we watched fish coming to the surface we looked up to see a large male Heron flying across the water. The bird was huge with black, white and grey markings, it reminded me somehow of those massive seaplanes from the second world war. Dad couldn't believe his eyes.

Eventually we arrived at Staplefield, where we had yet another pit stop at the pub!! I put my jacket onto a radiator to get a bit dry... this was pretty sensible except I had forgotten that I had a piece of chocolate in my pocket! Yuk! I pulled my hand out of it and it looked like I was cleaning up the H blocks after the dirty protest.

From there we headed towards the Ouse Valley viaduct. We could see it occasionally on the horizon, then it would dip below a hill or a hedgerow. We climbed up a slight incline and crossed a stile. There in front of us, dominating the skyline was the viaduct. An alter to the industrial age. The harbinger of urbanisation running across a beautiful rural scene. It was built in 1842 and carries the railway to Brighton. The arches of the viaduct were hollowed out, and when you looked down the length of the structure, it creates a kind of optical illusion. It was one of the main reasons Kaz and I wanted to do this walk, and it was even better than we had imagined.

The path took us long the river into the woods aptly named "River Woods". Soon we were crossing over the railway rather than walking under it, then onto a golf course and through more woods to emerge on the road just above Lindfield. This was our first stop over and we stayed the night in the Bent Arms Inn. It was ok. The rooms were nothing special, but we were glad to have a shower and clean up. Heidi, John's pregnant partner, joined us for the evening and brought out our bags containing fresh clothes etc. We ate in another pub that evening. By this time our muscles were starting to stiffen. Its a long time since I walked 14 miles in day. When we got back to the Bent Arms Dad went to bed and the rest of us stayed up for another drink, but then we too went off to bed, tired after a day walking along the SOVW.

Beware Sleepovers

America has a lot to answer for, Iraq, McDonalds, Michael Jackson, The Trail of Tears and SLEEP OVERS! I blame it on American TV. "When I were lad" we (one of us, maybe two) would be allowed as a very special summer holiday treat, to sleep over at a mate's house. But with my kids it seems to have become a weekly event. And its never one bleedin' kid, its a whole football team (or seems like it!) Either high pitched screams and laughter from Cassie's friends or growls and yells from Liam and his friends (I know that sounds sexist, but this is reportage not the world as I would like it be!)

When Cassie has friends over its cooking, making popcorn, dvds and looking on Bebo.

When its Liam, its creating a wrestling ring, X box 360, crisps and sweets.

Either way, they take over the front room and me and Kaz are banished like a couple of Palestinians to the Gaza Strip...ok our bedroom!

Liam had three friends over last night. I forced them upstairs but beat a retreat (he who runs away lives to fight another day) about 9.15pm. Earlier they had been playing in the garden when Honey took a shine to one of the boys sleeves on his hoody and promptly detached it from the rest of the garment before I could stop her.

I hate sleep overs.... ba humbug!

Still without a second toilet...the tiling saga continues

The job of sorting out the on suite shower room continues. It started in December when I pulled the ceiling down. But only in the last three weeks have we become a one toilet family! I don't know how you manage with one toilet and a household with three women!! But everyone else manages, so I should stop my bitching!

Left is what the tiling - noew completed will look like- no this isn't an actual picture, but we shamelessly copied this design in most regards. Kaz baulked at the cost of the stuff, and so typically of us we shopped around and bought stuff from various places- the back to wall toilet and shower cubicle from ebay (!) and the shower and circular small hand basin from Wicks. I'm pretty pleased with the results so far. But my tiling is not perfect. The wall and floor tiles were from tileclick. They delivered- (well a delivery company they sub contracted did) but didn't tell us they'd been, and left the tiles in the garage... which we found by accident! I was about to ring them and sound off when Kaz hurried to tell me that the tiles were sitting in the garage. PHEW! Panic over. Anyway. Yesterday I finished the wall tiling and did a bit on the floor, which is a bit of a bastard, given the room is not square and therefore each tile needs to be measured at each end. The plan is to finish today, before we go walking tomorrow... we'll see!

Sussex Ouse Valley Way Here We Come!

On Monday Kaz, John (my Bro in Law), my dad and myself are going walking for three days doing the SOVW. It will take three days walking about 14 or 15 miles each day. You can find out more about the walk on http://www.sussexousevalleyway.co.uk

We are starting at Lower Beeding and working our way down to Newhaven over the time of the trip. It should be beautiful, as long as the weather holds. We are taking it easy- staying at B&Bs on Monday and Tuesday night. Heidi, John's partner will be joining us each evening, and will transport our bags. So its only day sacks- so its a gentle introduction to longer distance walking for Kaz and John. I used to backpack with dad, but its been a few years since I last did any sustained walking. But its not the most strenuous walk.

Kaz is really looking forward to it, so I hope the weather is kind and she gets no blisters!

Mr G

Mr G- Ty Goddard, 44, is my closest friend.

The photo (left) doesn't really capture his "essence". He's a tall bloke with a "big" personality. A lover of good wine, beer, food and company. He's a charasmatic person with brilliant verbal communication skills. Sometimes he almost sells me his view that the New Labour Gov't is the best thing to happen to Britain in the post war period.

When you see these so called "New Labour" socialists (although I guess they admit to NOT being the S word knowdays) privatising everything that moves, using PFI with no regard to the future, attacking public sector workers terms, conditions, pay, two pointless and unwinnable wars etc it does make you lose heart. Even worse is the Tories now draping themselves in the humanist mantel. Why one Tory MP even said that PCS should go on strike to defend public services... The world turned upside down! Sorry, went off at a tangent just then, not like me at all!

Anyhow I've known Ty since I was 22... a long time now! We were both Student Union Sabbatical Officers - and that's how we met. I was President at Brighton Polytechnic and Ty was Communications Officer at Sussex University. Those were exciting times. Organising local demos against the Fowler Review and going on national demos. Getting our own Student nightclub- the Gloucester. Ty and I got arrested outside the South African Embassy on an NUS Anti apartheid march that year!

When my first daughter was still born, Ty stepped in to officiate and speak the words I'd written. Probably the first and only time he has let me put words in his mouth!!! And on my Wedding Day, when I'd been really crap and somehow ended up with two Best men, it was Ty that diplomatically sorted out, what could have been, a disaster.

For a number of years - probably more than a decade, he almost disappeared from view, working as a Labour Councillor in Lambeth. But the point is, when I needed his support he was always there. What more can you ask from a best friend?

Now he's back in Brighton and although he works too hard in my opinion, I get to hang out with him pretty regularly. Even when Kaz and I turn up almost unannounced he is welcoming and gets excited like a big kid. Me, I'm more acerbic, and generally as welcoming as a guard at Abu Gharib. So I'm often left wondering why we're such good mates.

He's not without faults, and I'm not blind to them, but at the end of the day his positive qualities far outweigh his negative ones...

System Crash and the end of the world

My regular readers... well Tina, will have noticed that I haven't posted recently. And this despite some cracking nights out and just plain funny ol' things happening.

Somehow my PC wiped out all my emails and saved favourites on internet explorer by reconfiguring the system... and yes, I committed the cardinal sin of NOT BACKING UP MY DATA!

So what things can I remember?

Well there was the night out in a pub over the other side of Worthing that's run by my old neighbour from Manor Road. Loo from Worthing showed up with her scabby little dog. Loo fussed over it like it was a child. It was lovely to see Loo after so long. She's still the same. Age hasn't done much to change her. As we sat there talking I realised what an insightful woman she really is. Loo is a walking metaphor for "Not judging a book by its cover." Kaz and I used to spend a lot of time with Loo, including dodgy Haven holidays when the kids were young. I have threatened to post a picture of her in her bra and knickers, with a gorrilla mask on!! (Don't ask!)

There have been some memorable evenings at the Goddards- including Izzy's naming ceremony, where Izzy's sponsors must have numbered about a dozen, including Matt and Oli- a gay couple who announced they were the "Fairy Godfathers"!!!!! And one of them is a copper- so its good to know that diversity is stating to happen in the MET!!! Another evening Ty was pretty tired and sneaked off to the sofa, so we put various toys around him (on his head, under his arm etc) and took photos of him. There is nothing quite like a sophisticated 40 something night out!!

I've been meeting Sally a few mornings on the train going up to London. That's been really lovely. Catching up and talking union stuff, which probably bores everyone else around us... usually means we get to spread out as the seats with us are rarely occupied!!

At the last PCS strike I was sent to RAF Wyton, and had to travel up over night to be able to get onto the picket line first thing. So I ended up staying in the George Inn in Huntingdon. The Inn was an old staging Inn for coaches, it was really something, steeped in history. And of course, Huntingdon is where Cromwell was born. They even had a tiny museum about him there. I wandered the high street in the evening and was struck by how few people were around- in Brighton its always buzzing! In fact Huntingdon retains its rural aspect so much that rabbits can be seen right by the railway station car park!

Live from Hamilton Road, Brighton!

This is a new one for... I'm blogging at the party I'm actually sitting in! Suddenly everyone has gone quiet! Tina especially. Although as I sit here she is starting to get back into the swing of things!



Kaz was so happy a few days ago that she texted me to say that we didn't have to do anything this weekend and how happy she was. However, by today she was clearly not impressed with her potential weekend! She must have mentioned about 5 times that the Fiddler's elbow was celebrating St Patrick's Day. She is soooooooo transparent. So I said, "Do you want to go into town?" "Oh," se says, "I suppose we could do!"

Anyhow I texted Ty and we met up with him and Tina and Izzy. We had a few drinks in Yates'. Tina then dragged Ty to Habitat for some shelves... I sniggered into my drink! Ha! You have to go shopping, whilst I remain in this hostelry!

A comparison. Tina spent a huge wedge on a pair of Prada sunglasses... I got a free guiness hat from the pub!

A Grand Day Out With The Long Man

Kaz and I took a couple of days off and had a night in the Grand Hotel (Argus offer £80!). We left home and were able to book in around midday. We sat in our double room drinking vodka and tonic, getting pissed really quickly...neither of us are lunch time drinkers. We went out and pottered around Brighton like tourists. Its a sad but true fact that Brightonians generally do not take advantage of what our city has to offer.

We had a drink at the Druid's Head in the Lanes. Its been years since I was in there last. New, brighter decor has transformed it into a space light and breezy... and they sell fair trade coffee. Way to go!

We used the Grand's facilities- pool, jacuzzi, sauna, steam room etc and drank a cocktail in the bar- a mudslide at £7 a go. Still they were pretty nice.

In the evening we ate out in a restaurant called Indian Summer. I was a little disappointed in the food. It had a fusion menu, but I thought the sauce on the curry dish I ate was too thin. We were so busy in the day that we crashed out about 11pm (fucking lightweights or what?)

The next day we packed and left. The Grand lived up to its name and Kaz loved it. In the afternoon we went for a 6 mile walk on the Down above the Long Man of Wilmington. The walk can be downloaded from the Argus website at: http://www.theargus.co.uk/whatson/walks/eastsussex/wilmingtonlitlingtonandalfriston/

The Long Man is more impressive viewed from the village than from the road. No one knows how old the figure is. The earliest drawing of it dates from 1710, or there abouts. Some say he's roman, some celtic, some medieval. The 1710 drawing has confirmed some theories and dispelled others. It suggests that the original figure was a shadow or indentation in the grass rather than a solid line; there were facial features that are no longer visible; the staffs being held were not a rake and a scythe as once described and the head was once a distinctive helmet shape, giving credence to the idea of the figure as a helmeted war-god.

The walking was initially difficult, up a muddy, pitted track, climbing steeply through woods and then onto the Down beyond. But the views more than repaid the effort. The walk then headed along the crest and came down into the river valley around Alfriston (we went a bit wrong and cut off a corner of the walk!)

We were home by five and recommensed our parental responsibilities... oh but for a short time WE WERE FREE!

Avenue Q

Last week I took the Venturers (Woodcraft Folk teenagers) to see a show in London. They wanted to see Avenue Q, a kind of adult Sesame Street. I knew it was going to be something of a piss take when one of the opening songs was "Everybody is a little bit racist"! It was very funny, although the image of two puppets copulating will stay with me for a long time! The young people enjoyed it enormously. The sets were very cleverly constructed.

The journey through the underground was a bit freaky. There were 19 teenagers, some clearly on another planet! It was like herding cats! But we managed it and didn't lose anyone on the tube. The Venturers got to go for free, thanks to a Youth Opportunities Fund grant administered by Brighton Council.

I had promised myself not to submit motions to this year's Woodcraft Folk conference, as I'm still undecided as to whether to attend or not. Its in York, which is further than I want to travel for a weekend under canvas. The actual conference will be one day, the second is usually workshops- which I personally loath, and think are a bit of a waste of time. But to be fair, I think I'm in a minority within the movement on that one!

Farewell Joyce

My comrade Joyce Sharp passed away over a week ago and I attended her funeral on Sunday.

Joyce was a old style Woodcraft Folk member. Socialist, vegetarian, a peace activist. She had met Peter, her husband, at the 1946 Woodcraft Folk International camp on Ovingdean Hill near Brighton, a stones throw from my home. They married shortly after and settled in Kingston, just a short walk across the downs from me.

When I was first a Woodcraft leader, we only had 3 groups in our district and Joyce and Peter, who owned a fruit farm, used to let us camp in their orchard... I think most of the Sussex folk did at one time or another. There was never any feeling of property from them. They genuinely welcomed us to share their space. Socialism was a part of their daily lives, I wonder if they even thought about it, it seemed so ingrained.

I didn't know her really well but I always felt I knew her more than I actually did, if that makes any kind of sense? And Peter too. A marvelous couple. But Joyce always talked to you as if she'd only been chatting with you a few days before. It could be a little disconcerting. I remember she told me she'd been "given the all clear" at one point... I hadn't even been aware she was unwell.

Joyce's coffin was made of green cardboard, and decked with Woodcraft Folk stickers and words like "Pax" and "Peace", to which origami peace cranes had been glued. Her coffin was laid out in the summer house, amid photo's, folk shirts and other memories of her life. The final photo was a large black and white image, blown up. Joyce's face showed the lines that younger women try to hide. But her jaw was set and determined and yet her eyes twickled with that sense of fun I often witnessed in her.

At the appointed time we made our way up the slightly climbing path to her place of rest. She was being buried on the land. There were so many people there. Young and old. WI, peace activists, Woodcraft Folk, Labour Party, family and friends. I was at the back of the crowd and it was hard to hear the orations. Some had voices that carried, others voices thin and reedy, I couldn't make out. The rain drizzled down occasionally.

Eventually I climbed the bank so that I could hear the speakers. All spoke of Joyce's warmth, stubborness, creativity and love. It was hard to believe she'd departed and I would never see her again. She was lowered into the ground, and I felt the lump in my throat. I quickly looked away. I didn't feel I had the right to weep when her family were being so stoic. I looked up to the horizon and saw the downs folding across my vision. And I thought how Joyce would have loved this spot. I mean who wouldn't?

A fire was lit and more songs were sung. A group of us said our goodbyes and offered our condolences to Peter. He introduced me to Brian Morris- an academic who has just published a book on Ernest Thompson Seton. I thought how typical of Joyce and Peter that I should meet him at their home, on this day. We walked together to the Jugs for a drink and for half an hour I was absorbed in discussions on the early woodcraft movement. Maybe it makes me shallow, but I grasped the opportunity to avoid feeling my heavy heart and the dread that one day it might be me saying farewell to Kaz.

That evening before I feel asleep, I made Kaz promise me she wouldn't pass away before me. Kaz as ever had the answer and said rather romantically and unrealistically, that we'd die together...

IO, IO its off to work I go

Busy week. On Tuesday I had to get up at 4am to travel across to south Wales to represent a member. The journey involved Brighton to London to Newport to Abergavenny on the train, taxi to Brecon and pick up there to Stenybridge.

Wales. What a beautiful country! Wet, but beautiful. I'd forgotten how incredible the scenary is. The last time I was in Brecon was 18 years ago when Jo was two, and we had a holiday there. Its a different kind of beauty to the Sussex downs; harder, more exposed, the hills almost gaunt. Whereas the downs of Sussex embrace you like a lover.

The same day I then had to retrace part of my way, go up to Banbury via Oxford where one of the PCS Instructional Officer Group picked me up and drove me to Kineton. Our committee was meeting there the following day. So I stayed the night in the officers' mess. Most of the committee made the journey so that we could crack on early the following day.

Officers' messes are strange places for civilians. All the lads are ex services so they're kind of used to the "military" ethos. I wonder if I will ever get it? Kineton MoD site is partly built on the site of the battle of Edgehill (1642), so the mess has armour, weapons and prints of the battle all over the place, including a model of a New Model Army regiment in a glass case. Drinks are always ridiculously cheap in a mess- 60p for a gin and tonic! Needless to say as the evening wore on we all got a little bleary eyed. Tom's eyes were on stalks, H was slurring and winding Tom up about being a Tory, Tom kept offering me viagra! These lads are as "rough as fuck" as KC likes to remind us. "But that's why," as KC further remarks to me, "you fit in with us!"... I can't argue with that.

The following day a few of us went across to the site of the battle of Edgehill which is situated on MoD land. Aparently the land is haunted. There are stories of guard dogs not being willing to go into certain areas of the site... Anyhow,

...THE BATTLE

King Charles marched from Shrewsbury toward London with his newly raised army. Essex marched out to meet him, with the express task of making sure the king did not reach the capitol. They met near Edgehill, a few miles from Banbury.

The two armies were of approximately the same size; about 14,500 men. The Royal cavalry under Prince Rupert and Lord Wilmot pushed back the wings of the Parliamentary army, but in the centre the royal troops were themselves badly mauled.

After only three hours of hard fighting neither side was able to make headway, and they broke off the fight as darkness descended. Essex considered his army too badly pulled damaged to resume the fight next day, and he pulled back his men to Warwick, leaving the road to London open to Charles' army.

The Result

Although neither side at Edgehill could claim a decisive victory, the result was that Charles "won" in so far as the road to London was now open to him. However, Charles did not take advantage of his opportunity.

His natural caution asserted itself, and by the time his troops reached Reading, Essex had regained London and a fresh force of men prevented any further royalist advance. Charles never again had so clear an opportunity to take London as he did after Edgehill.

Wankered in Woodingdean

Funny ol' week really.

There was the snow for starters, and the angst of "Do I, don't I go to work"? Its not always recognised that Woodingdean, sitting on top of the South Downs, like Smaug on his treasure hoard, is subject to localised weather! I've left Woodindean in thick fog on occasion and boarded the bus, only to find the weather totally different in the valley.

There's been some sort of flu thing going around. I had it, now the rest of the family has had it, the lucky last contestants being Jo and Kaz. Kaz has soldiered on in the way she does...imagine the scene. Kaz is involved in a serious industrial accident that involves chopping her arm off....

"Oh it ok, I just seem to have severed my arm off at the elbow. Yeah, its a bit painful...I suppose I should go to the hospital but I really have to go into work for the team meeting today."

"Kaz!" I reproach her. "Its your fuckin' arm! Its hanging off! Blood is splattered everwhere! I really think you should consider not going into work today!"

"Oh stop being so melodramatic. I'm sure another one will grow back in a few months or so."

Whereas Jo seems to think she can muscle in on us lads territory and has come down with a virulent strain of man flu.

On Friday night the Goddards and Madam X came over to the wild frontier (Woodingdean) for something to eat, and perhaps more importantly, something to drink. It probably wasn't a brilliant call on my part. Chris, the "poppet" plasterer- recommended by Madam X, had been at our house today. After he left, there was a film of plaster dust everywhere! Kaz was on a mission. We had to clean all the downstairs rooms, sweep, wash the floors, clean the frigging bogs... and on top of that cook a meal! "Why the fuck did I come up with this bright idea," I muttered as I washed the tide mark off the bath, "and come to think of it, why can't the bloody kids (huh! 20 and 15 year olds in particular) clean the poxy bath??!!" Kaz utilised her stock answer... "Because we're the adults and they're the children." OH FUCK RIGHT OFF! Its hardly bleedin' child labour is it?

Ty arrived, suited and booted. He's had man flu this week and looked a bit rough...even for him. Tina arrived separately, without Izzy. And latter Madam X, the most Luddish of all my comrades arrives too. She has a new mobile, but doesn't know how to swop sim cards (??) Apparently someone at work usually does it for her....

Mr G is initially glum ("I'm dying! No. No, really I'll just drink tea... Ok maybe just a glass of red with dinner." ) Three hours latter, he's standing up, gerating his hips, crooning into a whisk "I'm stoned in love with you."

Tina looks flushed...gin always does that to her.

Madam X sits slightly detached, finding the idiotic bahaviour of the rest of us quite amusing! She was wearing a very alluring perfume which I can't resist smelling, but as this involves touching her neck I feel I'm bordering on getting a slap...from either Kaz or Madam X, or both! I spray a little of the delectable liquid onto Kaz, aiming for the knap of her neck, but miss a bit and some gets into her hair!

Its always a nice evening when I get to hang out with Madam X and the Goddards. The evening finishes about 1am. Kaz crashes immediately our guests depart. Our bedroom door handle got busted earlier in the week and Honey has exploited the situation shamelessly to push the door open with her nose and curl up on the bed. Kaz lies in bed, eyes shut, a look of tranquilty on her face. I hear the pad of doggy feet, just as Honey is about to jump onto the bed, a voice cuts through the darkness "Get in your basket!" Before I can think, I'm half out of bed before I realise Kaz is shouting at the dog!