Today is the 75th anniversary of Bognor being granted the Regis suffix by King George V. Having strolled along the seafront this weekend, I can vouch for the cleanliness of the beach - on a glorious sunny afternoon, you can see its attraction. The town, however, is as shabby as ever.
You have to wonder, though, why the powers-that-be in the town have done "bugger"-all to celebrate the anniversary. Surely this would have been an excellent opportunity for some positive publicity for the place, an excuse for a minor royal visit perhaps?

I’m still trying to enrol online with the Inland Revenue so that I can file paperwork digitally. The trouble is that the enrolment process is shit. As I’ve said before, for "security" reasons, passwords are sent by post and not over a secure connection. Since the unregistered post is as secure as your average teabag, I’m not won over by this argument.
Now I’ve discovered that, if there is a problem with your login, you must "de-enrol" (I wasn’t aware that I’d completed enrolment yet, but bear with me), re-enrol and wait for a new user ID and password to be sent by post. This process can take up to ten days.
This whole system is the biggest load of crap that I have ever seen. It is the most user-unfriendly system that anyone could possibly conceive. Pass me the paper - at least I don’t need a password for that.

Lord Percy.
Go look at SheepFilms. I’m sure I pointed to it before, but it’s still genius.

Hels’s flat sale has fallen through - the purchaser was intending to buy-to-let and has got cold feet over the interest rates. This is a major setback. We’re very pissed off and incredibly stressed, with just over four months until the wedding and nowhere to live.
I have to go to France later today until Saturday - I’d rather be here sorting all this out, although I’m not sure if there is anything much that I can do. Aside from support H, of course.

This week, I shall be guesting over on Uborka. Go read, if you feel that way.

Time for one of those overseas blogging monologues. I know how much you all love them (go on! tell me how much you love them!).

I’ve just boarded a train from Angers St Laud to Paris Montparnasse, my first experience of the TGV. The train is reasonably busy, perhaps 75% full, but there is only one stop between here and Paris, at Le Mans. It’s reasonably spacious, and the lack of bulky headrests means that it is easy to peoplewatch - the girl to my right who is trying to sleep whilst wedging her enormous black handbag against the back of the seat in front of her, the bloke to my left who is sitting in the window seat that I reserved (I’m not sufficiently confident in my French to remonstrate with him, and besides, it’s easier to get up for the loo or the buffet from here - and I can still see the world zipping by), the young infant in his carrychair a few seats towards the back of the train who is cuddling his toy rabbit and quietly absorbing the constant stream of information that is the world around him, whilst his twin sleeps soundly in the next seat.

Thankfully I’ve come equipped with my bag of Maynards’ Wine Pastilles and a bottle of Waitrose Still Scottish Natural Mineral Water, as this train is about half a mile long (no exaggeration), and it would probably take me fifteen minutes to walk as far as the buffet/bar. All very English of me.

The train takes corners at very high speed, with the consequence that my laptop slips dangerously from one side of the little table to the other, so excuse any pauses in the narrative as I clutch hold of it to prevent it falling to the floor.

Why am I in France? Well, I’ve been here for two reasons - firstly to visit a famous and very old nursery company near Nantes, and also to attend and lend consultancy and support at a European Union Plant Variety Rights appeal hearing at the Community Plant Varieties Office in Angers. Yes, that last bit does sound exciting, doesn’t it? But, believe me, it was in fact very interesting and useful, even though we lost the appeal (we had only rated our chances of success at around 1-2% prior to the meeting, but reckon that we increased that to 20% by making a very well-argued, substantiated and convincing case during the hearing - we believe we were defeated only by a majority decision of the members of the panel rather than a unanimous one).

The "we" in this journey has been myself and David, who is a septagenarian plant breeder and fervent supporter of PFE (and the appelant), along with his wife Rosemary. As they are now travelling on for a short holiday in the upper Loire valley, I’m travelling back by train, plane and automobile (in the form of a coach) to dear old Blighty and the arms of Hels, who I have been missing like mad.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but we have been finding these separations (this trip, Hels’s recent trip to Vienna and her forthcoming week at a conference in Florida) to be quite painful, punctuated only by long (and expensive) phone calls telling each other how much we love each other and how much we miss one another. I’ve received the odd complaint of being a bit too soft and soppy in my writings on this site recently, so I won’t go on about it too much. It may just be because our love is still very new and extremely intense and not a little fraught with the worries of trying to sell our homes, find a home together, arrange a wedding and deal with the stresses of everyday life, but it certainly makes us value our time together more than ever. The time when "home" means our home together can not come soon enough.

I’m not sure how fraught this journey will be. According to Le Figaro this morning, Paris promises to be a hellish place today as umpteen gazillion police, soldiers and special forces secure the city for George Dubya’s state visit to mark the sixtieth anniversary of D-Day. I have to get from Montparnasse to Charles de Gaulle airport (assuming it hasn’t fallen down entirely). There is a coach service from Montparnasse, but I wonder if it might be delayed. I had planned to spend a little time exploring the Montparnasse area, having never visited Paris before, but if it appears fraught, I may abandon that idea.

We’re just coming into Le Mans. Interestingly, the conductor, in his announcements, puts the emphasis on the "Le", not the "Mans". Since it appears that nobody wants this seat, I may rummage around and find my headphones for a little audio entertainment between here and Paris. I bought a very cheap (three euro) CD from a second hand store in Nantes which is very good aside from a scratch that makes the first track unplayable (hence the low price, I guess), and I still haven’t had a chance to listen to it all the way through.

Anyway, a few non-work highlights of this trip:

• the splendidly calm ferry crossing from Portsmouth to St Malo, with the moon hanging low in the sky and reflected wonderfully in the glossy water, whilst on the other side of the boat, the Isle of Wight loomed ominously in silhouette with streetlamps draped around its skirt hems and reflected in the water
• the city centre in Nantes, with its cafés and cathedral
• the castle in Angers, home of a fantastic, enormous and very old tapestry depicting the story of the Apocalypse, with amazing detail, particularly in the beasts and the horsemen, with St John looking on from a differently designed sentry box-like structure at the side of each panel, recording the scenes for the Book of Revelations
• Angers cathedral, with its massive organ (stop it!) supported above the main entrance on four huge flying buttresses, each carved to resemble a bacchanalian figure seemingly inappropriate for a place of Christian worship, but imposing and wonderful nonetheless
• the simple and beautiful chruch of Saint Laud in Angers, and much more light and welcoming building, which, when we visited, was being bedecked in flowers for a wedding to be held today

As David and Rosemary were very much in holiday mode on this trip, it allowed me more time than I would normally have for exploring my environs. Normally when I travel abroad for conferences and exhibitions, usually with David’s son Mike (also a plant breeder), there is little time for R&R, as we generally try to pack in as much work value into our time as we possibly can. Whilst I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this trip (in spite of losing the appeal hearing), a little voice at the back of my head says that I really need to get more work done (hey! I could be doing it now instead of writing this monologue, but then I do have to keep you entertained somehow).

Hmm. Time for another wine pastille.

How strange. The guards have just come through the carriage, and they seem to be inspecting all the vents for the air conditioning system, peering into them as if they expect some sort of rat or mouse to poke his head out and say "salut!" at any moment. They’ve left the carriage now, so obviously didn’t find what they were looking for, although the activity has woken up the sleeping twin into a wide-eyed coughing session.

Idle thought: do nationalists in Northern Ireland refuse to use the Orange telephone network on principle?

Idle thought 2: what is it with young oriental men and really bad facial hair?

Idle thought 3: I wonder if there’ll be a powerpoint at CDG where I can recharge my laptop, or is that a uniquely American phenomenon? Even the wonderfully well thought out Copenhagen airport doesn’t have powerpoints.

<long pause whilst transferring from TGV to CDG>

Idle thought 4: if, when in France, you dial 15 for an ambulance, 17 for the police and 18 for the fire service, what happens if you dial 16?

Well, so much for having a stroll around Montparnasse. On arrival at the station, the first thing I noticed was the large number of police and armed troops present. A quick amble about the station revealed that the left luggage lockers were closed and sealed due to the security precautions, so I decided not to bother with trying to go for an amble whilst dragging my wheelie case and carrying my laptop. Instead, I elected to board the bus for the airport directly. As the bus hurtled through the streets, we passed a long row of buses laden with police, plus vans loaded with equipment, and then had to pull over to allow a fleet of water cannon trucks to roar past, sirens on and lights flashing. So I reckon that not going for a stroll was a smart move.

It has to be said that CDG (or terminal 1 at least) is the most dismal airport I have ever been in, even more badly designed than Dallas-Fort Worth. The duty-free area is cramped an ugly. The check-in desks are cramped and ugly. The &satellites" are cramped and ugly. There is a chronic lack of seating, refreshment points, signage, colour, light and air conditioning. Infuriatingly, there is a power point next to the seat I’ve found, but I stupidly left my French/UK adaptor in the bag that I’ve checked-in, so I’ll run out of power in about 20 minutes - with at least two and a half hours to kill before the flight. Worryingly, the bmi flight before mine, to East Midlands, has been delayed until around the time that mine is due to depart due to a fault with the aircraft, and I have a sneaky feeling that they might use the plane I’m due to fly on to take those passengers, thereby delaying my flight. I’ve even run out of battery life on my camera, so I can’t play at taking silly pictures. And I have no book with me. I think I’m going to be very bored. Sigh.

Idle thought 5: at what point is the boredom level sufficiently high that your brain dissolves and seeps out of your ear?

Anyhow, time to conserve battery life by shutting down the monitor. I’ll post this on my return (though, if you’ve read this far, you know that already).

UPDATE: my flight wasn’t delayed.

Ronald Reagan, RIP.

• The Ronald Reagan Foundation and Library
• IMDB entry

Teenagers use blogs for "self therapy". Not surprising, and by no means limited to teenagers.

You are keeping up with my Incomplete Lexicon of Luuuurrvve over at Uborka, aren’t you?

A is for Amour
P is for Passion

Happiness is buying the latest marketing book.
Happiness is also having a successful meeting with the bank manager, a successful meeting with a client and actually achieving quite a bit today.
Happiness also comes in the form of wasting time on silly games and actually seeing the transit of Venus (with the aid of a welding visor).

It’s rare that you get a really good quality spam message these days, advertising a product that might genuinely be useful, but today I received a spam promoting this site, although I’m not sure about the idea of marrying your brother, sister or best friend.

I’ve just been down to Committee Room Number 2 at County Hall to cast my vote - almost certainly the last time I shall do it there. A shame really, as it is rather a beautiful walk to and from there, along Tower Street, with a lovely view of the Cathedral. And speaking of the Cathedral, I passed the bishop on his way to vote as I left.
If that is as interesting as dishwater, then try the latest Weebl.

I know it isn’t particularly busy here at the moment - that’s largely because I’ve been entertaining the troops, Vera Lynn stylee, over at Uborka - and there’ll be cocktails there tomorrow.

Latest Lexicon of Luuuurrvve entries:
F is for Flowers
N is for Nudity
W is for Writing

Why on Earth is the Football League rebranding the divisions? What was, only a few years ago, known as Division 4 will, from next season, be League 2. Utter nonsense. Those of us who support teams in the League rather than the Premiership have no illusions about the status of football played there - it’s generally of a very high quality, featuring spirited and determined teams that are not beset by primadonnas and hordes of overseas players. It does not need tarting up to make it out to be something that it isn’t.

Bearders, MBE.

No time:

• Up at 5.30am today, home at 10.30pm. H off to US for conference for over a week. West Dean at the weekend. Oxford today. Mad. Hectic. Too much to do, too little time. Gah.
• UKIP. Gah. Consider this - next election, Tories biggest party, but not sufficient for a majority, so form an alliance with UKIP. Fate worse than death.
• LA Fisheries - best chippy for miles
• Mmmmmm beer
• Visitor number 150,000 should call in sometime next Tuesday - watch the counter.

Still incredibly busy and short of time:

• Started work at 8.30am and got home at 10pm - a little better than yesterday, not least because I didn’t spend the whole day driving around.
• The Two Things, via LMG
• The normally quietly spoken Mervyn King has opened his mouth and put his foot in it - certainly not helpful for those of us that have little choice but to sell now.
• On the plus side, both Hels’s flat and mine were subject to viewings today.

OK - more work to do and then a late night trans-Atlantic telephone call to make. Not very exciting for you, but it’s likely to be like this until I get through this week and next.

Ingredients:

• Lettuce (whichever variety you prefer)
• tomatoes (ditto)
• black olives
• baby sweetcorn
• mange tout, or sugar snaps
• cucumber
• feta cheese, cubed
• pine nuts
• fresh basil leaves, olive oil, lemon juice, balsamic vinegar and black pepper

Combine all ingedients. Eat.
Healthier than a late-night pizza. Quicker to prepare too.

Possibly in questionable taste, but this Ronald Reagan tribute is really rather good.

The days continue to blend into a sea of work, but at least I was home by 7.15 tonight, and ticked off several major tasks during the day. Coming home to trans-Atlantic answerphone messages is cheering too. As was finding that one of the local papers has got a chunk of editorial about my event this weekend.

• amusing place names near you, via his 2p
• The latest yeti and penguin based silliness
• West Dean have information about my event this weekend on their website - click on "events"
• Salvador Dalik - possibly the best thing on B3ta in ages

Go and tell Robyn where you are, there’s a good chap/chapess.

Time is flowing like a Gogol novel.
All good things today - more work successfully achieved in preparing West Dean for the Garden Event, followed by a long trans-Atlantic phone call.
Time for bed. Expect continued sporadicity.

Today’s boring entry: I did lots of work today. Will you be visiting West Dean this weekend?

Happiness is getting a belated birthday present of two albums that absolutely nobody else would want to listen to. Yay! Thank you, brother.
See my Amazon wishlist here.

West Dean was very successful yesterday - if the weather holds, then today should be every bit as good. If you didn’t make it yesterday, (hi Sacha!) then come along today if you can.
In other matters: Black Eyed Peas - Let’s Get It Started. Surely I can’t be the only person who for ages has thought that they were singing "Let’s get retarded in here"

Word of the day at dictionary.com is "yeasty" meaning full of life. I’m not sure that many people would find it flattering to be described as yeasty.

Zyrx.

Well, it rained, although only in the form of showers, but enough to dent visitor numbers somewhat. But it wasn’t disastrous, and overall it’s been a pretty good weekend, providing someuseful income for PFE.
Next year will be the tenth Garden Event that I’ve organised at West Dean, a frightening statistic in itself. Already, we’re formulating ideas for ways to celebrate that - my favourite suggestion so far is a champagne bar.

Sorry for being quiet - mostly due to work pressure, but also because I stepped out of life for a few hours yesterday to spend some time with H.
Normal service will be resumed shortly.
Visitor number 150,000 passed this way at 11.45pm yesterday, having arrived here by searching yahoo.com for "47kg propane". Hmm.

I wasn’t going to comment on the Euro 2004 thingummy, although I was intensely amused by the Italians being knocked out as a result of a 2-2 draw between Denmark and Sweden - the pictures of the Swedes idly kicking the ball back and forth waiting for the whistle to blow for full time must have resulted in some extreme swearing from Italian fans back home.
What I couldn’t fathom, though, was the Beeb’s pundit’s comment that 2-2 is an "unusual score". Any idea where I could find stats on this to prove him wrong?

FourPong - Pong with four paddles and two balls. Possibly the best Pong variant I’ve seen yet.

BT are to charge six pence if you press "3" after dialling 1471, according to this BBC News item. However, just using 1471, writing the number down, and then dialling it manually, will remain free. This seems to make no sense, as surely automating this process in the exchange must reduce exchange load and have a lower cost for BT - Brian?

From the Beeb:

As an aside, have you ever looked at the awful code used on one of these BBC pages. Standards? Hello?

Four door Fiat Punto (cheap) versus Mazda MX-5 (not frighteningly expensive).
Are we going to get much luggage in the back of an MX-5?

Wallpaper* magazine would love some of these.

Not much to write about at the moment. Work is still the dominant feature in life.

• Drove 375 miles yesterday to deliver some plants to Cambridgeshire. Driving a Transit Luton in a strong wind is never much fun.
• Took Hels’s car for its MOT test today. It failed. I’ve been and purchased the parts required to make it pass, and Tim is kindly fitting them. However, he’s already hit a problem, though hopefully it can be remedied quickly.
• I’m currently printing all the inserts for the wedding invitations (where to stay, how to find it, etc.). We should get them in the post next week.
• I’m working my way through a huge backlog of work emails that I’ve filed but not yet replied to or dealt with. PFE has reached a stage where an admin assistant would be useful, but the money is not available to pay for it. So it looks increasingly like I’ll be working longer hours to try and get everything done. Still, at least I remain in total control of everything, and I guess that is a positive.
• And, whilst losing the football last night is a disappointment, I can see absolutely no justification for this idiotic behaviour.

Pikea part 3, featuring eyebrows.

Hels said I should write something here about this, although, to be honest, I’m not quite sure what to say…

On Saturday afternoon, having run a few errands and sorted out a few more wedding bits and pieces (invitations posted today), we sauntered down to Worthing for Sarah and Paul’s housewarming barbeque. We were a little bit early, so nipped into a seafront bar to kill a little bit of time and watch a squally shower lashing the shore. It was clear from the weather that we were in line for more of a "grilleque" than barbeque, and that proved to be the case once we arrived at Sarah and Paul’s spacious new home.

In spite of the inclement conditions, the party trundled along pleasantly enough, particularly as it gave me a chance to catch up with Gary, who I haven’t seen in ages, and also to meet the other usher for Sarah and Paul’s wedding (I’ve been practising my ushing ever since they asked if I would do that honour). However, what I hadn’t realised was that both Andrea and Kate would be there. It was good to see Kate again and to catch up on all the news - over the years, we have built up a good friendship, which some might say is what we should have stuck with all those years ago instead of trying to have a relationship. She and Hels got on well, which is without doubt a good thing.
The upshot of all this is that I stepped in to the living room at one point (having taken a "comfort break") to find Kate, Andrea and Hels standing next to each other and looking at me. That was the point that I decided it was time for us to leave!

The strange thing is that I really felt quite ambivalent about the whole situation. I don’t really view Kate as an ex any more - she’s a friend now. I don’t really have any time for Andrea at all, as regular readers of this site will know. And H stands head and shoulders above them both, both literally and figuratively.
As I said to H on the way home, the one thing that the evening did teach me is that it is true what they say - things do tend to work out for the best in the end. I can’t imagine how they could have worked out better than they have.

One of the guests at Saturday’s party was a five week old baby called Katie. At one point, I turned to see Hels standing in the conservatory, cradling Katie in her arms. Apparently, I looked "proud". Proud that my fiancée can hold a baby?

Mike of Troubled Diva fame has moved to Troubled-Diva. He claims that the addition of a hyphen to the URI is a response to incompetence amongst his hosts. Personally, I think it’s all just a ruse to get the entire blogging community to link to his site. Such attention seeking!