We visited a couple of gardens open under the National Gardens Scheme today. I’d thoroughly recommend it – a chance to wander around gardens that are normally not open to the public and to give a few pounds to thoroughly good causes in the process. And to drink tea and eat fine cake.

This is the fountain at Clinton Lodge, designed by William Pye. We now have serious fountain envy.

Miffy has a quiet moment on the shingle at Bexhill.

Miffy: Giddyup!

Pedro: Geddoff!

As you look out over the English Channel from the De La Warr Pavilion, you’ll probably see some ships, yachts, dinghies, windsurfers and the odd fishing craft making their way up and down and across the water.

Then, on the horizon, you might spot something that looks a little odd.

Watch it for a while and you’ll notice that, unlike the other craft that you can see, it isn’t moving. Take a closer look.

What the heck is that?

Well, the clue is just to your right at the Sovereign Light Café. You’re looking at the Royal Sovereign Lighthouse, which, remarkably, guides ships around some particularly unpleasant shoals with nothing more than a 35 watt halogen lamp, presumably not much different from those security lamps that you can get from B&Q. So, if you’re planning to build your own lighthouse at home, all you need is a suitable concave mirror to focus the beam and a security lamp, and Robert is your Mum’s brother.

As for the lighthouse, it’s been rented out (click for nice piccies). Apparently, Trinity House considered switching it off as modern craft have satnav and GPS or whatever and don’t really need the lighthouse to find their way around the shoals. Except that they realised that, if they switched it off, there would be this huge concrete thing in the middle of the Channel that might be a bit of a hazard to shipping. So, there it stays, flashing away every 20 seconds, night and day, 365 days a year.

Yesterday, expecting a not particularly warm or sunny day, we headed down to the De La Warr Pavilion in Bexhill, partly because we walked past it when it was still under restoration and vowed to come back, partly because we were headed that direction anyway, partly because we wanted to catch the Grayson Perry exhibition before it closed (it’s on its way to the Harris Museum in that there oop-north and we highly recommend it – as you might expect, it does feature both ceramics and cross-dressing, but only incidentally to the main focus of the event, which is art from the 50s, 60s and 70s, including some excellent social history) and partly because DG said we should go.

What we got was a warm and sunny day, a fabulous building, an excellent exhibition and a really good slice of flourless chocolate and hazlenut cake.

One thing that strikes you as you wander around the De La Warr Pavilion is just how, well, joined-up (for want of a far better phrase) the whole thing is. It strikes you that someone has thought about the whole thing, right from conception to restoration and on to the day-to-day running of the place. The building itself is stunning:

As you walk further around it, you immediately become sucked in by the fact that the whole thing sits perfectly in the landscape and is so damned photogenic.

Of course, it is art deco grandeur on an impressive scale. Anyone familiar with buildings along the coast of Sussex will recognise the art deco trademark curves, flat roof and clean white (or, in this case, cream) exterior. This has to be the best-preserved art deco building I’ve seen. It reminded me of a few that are now lost (Bognor bus station, anyone?).

But the overwhelming impression is that everything is just right. The red flag with newly-painted white ballustrade and royal blue lamp post…

…the specially-commissioned red chairs in the café…

… and even the wonderfully aligned deckchairs with their matching royal blue canvases.

A visit to the café reaffirms the impression of perfection. The staff are perfectionists when it comes to serving coffee, even to the extent that they took one man’s coffee back and replaced it because the chocolate powder on top was not arranged just-so. And the cakes. Mmmm.

And then there is the roof deck.

The roof terrace is just perfect. A broad expanse that, mercifully, has been kept clear of tables, chairs, ice creams and other clutter. There’s nothing to do up here except drink it all in, particularly if you’re lucky enough to get a bit of sun for some artful shadows…

… and a few clouds to give the sky towards Eastbourne some dramatic texture.

And, as you descend, there is that famous stairwell – which I think will become the most photographed stairwell in Sussex.

The other thing that struck us was the variety of people using the Pavilion. There was a good number of arty-farty types visiting the exhibition, but they were matched in number by locals (particularly of the elderly variety using the café) and a good smattering of families joining a tour of the Pavilion on to a trip to the beach. The fact that entrance to the building and the exhibition space is all free has to be a factor in this.

The Pavilion itself is, no doubt, going to attract a good art-following crowd to the town. This has to be a good thing – Bexhill has been teetering on moving from being a rather genteel seaside town towards becoming more than a little bit shabby. It still has its less-salubrious areas (Sidley has to be in danger of falling into this category), but we got the distinct impression that the town is on its way up. And, in combination with the wonderfully-revived Pallant House in Chichester and all the usual wonderful things in Brighton and Hove, the Sussex coast is becoming more of an arts destination by the day.

This is a very well-travelled rabbit. So far, she has been to Wales, Ireland, France, Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany and Italy.

Here she is at the Palace of Versailles, admiring the topiary.

Bum!

CFB (549 KB)

During our recent holiday in Tuscany, having spied San Pellegrino in Alpe on the map as a potentially interesting place to visit and with a sleeping child in the back of the hire car, we decided to amble our way up the steep and winding mountain roads to take a look. It’s a stunning place – a hamlet consisting of a couple of bars and restaurants for the tourists, a museum of rural life and a very old church and monastery. But, above all, it has some of the most stunning views in the high Apennines. We stopped, walked around, had lunch and ice cream, and relaxed. For me, it was one of the highlights of the holiday.

When we got back to the car, I noticed that Miffy was missing. I’m not sure if I have mentioned before that Tom has a toy Miffy to whom he is almost surgically attached. We did try to discourage this at first, but eventually it got to the stage that it was easier to let him hold Miff than to put up with the plaintive "Miffy! Miffy! Miiiiffeeeee!" when he couldn’t find her. (And you should see what it’s like when Miff has a "bath" – Tom’s face is pressed against the door as she spins at 1400rpm). This had potential disaster qualities, for whilst we now have a spare Miff (Miffy Two), we know that she’s a poor substitute for the slightly grey and battered real thing.

I thought back quickly to recall where I’d last seen Miff during our three hour sojourn in this other-worldly village. I remembered seeing her by a seat we had sat on that is just out of view in the photo above. As the tears started to roll down Tom’s cheeks, I set off at a jog to find her. Now, I’m not the fittest person in the world, but I’m not terrifically unfit either. I jogged down to the seat and found two wizened and ancient local men pondering this off-white rabbit sitting on the floor. I picked her up, turned and started back up the hill, just as my lungs were about to burst – jogging at 1525 metres (5000 feet) is not for the faint-hearted.

When we moved into our home, we noticed a small ditch at the end of the garden (which is actually above the level of our house). Our neighbours have partly infilled it to extend their garden, putting in a good-sized culvert as they did so.

A couple of weeks ago, for the first time since we have lived here, I noticed a trickle of water running through it. Even in mid-winter, I hadn’t seen water in it before.

Last night and this morning we had continuous and very heavy rain. We don’t have a gauge, so I’ve no idea how much has fallen, but I’d guess an inch-and-a-half at least, maybe two inches. In a lull in the rain, I went outside to assess the damage (smashed plants, mud down the drive) and could plainly hear rushing water. A glimpse into the hedge revealed a raging torrent (albeit on a small scale) rushing down the ditch, enough to draw our neighbours out to investigate. In true BBC-stylee “here’s-a-picture-of-my-dog’s-bottom-in-a-puddle-to-illustrate-the-dramatic-weather” citizen journalism, here is a dramatic grainy cameraphone photo of said torrent:

Impressed? Today, Ruralville and grayblog, tomorrow fame and fortune and a photo on the Beeb.

Did you see this? Whether you did or not, try to catch the rest of the series if you can.

…I promise. In the meantime, here is the testcard a photo of Oustreham port at dawn.

I like the way that my rather knackered Nokia, struggling with the low light conditions, has produced a fine piece of pointillist art.

A fascinating set of photographs of North Korea (albeit with slightly flawed translation of captions) via the linkbunnies. The original article has much longer captions but these are only useful if you can read Russian.

Reminds me of Fraser’s North Korea expedition.

We stopped in West Cove, Co. Kerry, because we saw a sign that said there was a bakery selling pastries and ice creams. We never found the bakery – instead we found a small cove with a pretty quay and a handful of houses. It was almost deserted save for a few blokes going off to harvest mussels and this chap, rowing his way across the bay in his yellow boat.

Lough Leane, viewed from Muckross, in the evening light. Stunning.

Fording a stream on the beach at Ballinskelligs, Co. Kerry. Buying the expensive all-terrain pushchair proved to be a worthwhile investment as we explored one of the cleanest, most peaceful and beautiful beaches I think there must be in the British Isles. Mind you, I’m sure that salt water and sand do nothing for a pushchair’s longevity.

Here’s a question for all of you who know about this sort of thing. My camera can record video in Quicktime .MOV format and I’ve used it to record Tom. The problem is, I’ve held the camera in portrait position (as Tom, when being held by his mum, is more vertical than horizontal).

When we play back the video using Quicktime viewer on the laptop, we can see him beautifully and hear his gurgling noises wonderfully. However, we see him beautifully in landscape format – he’s on his side. Nowhere in the Quicktime controls (I’m using the free download, not the Pro version) is there a "rotate" control.

Any ideas for either:

• a player that can view .MOV files and rotate them (preferably a free player), or
• a player that can play other formats and rotate them, and a converter to convert from .MOV to the appropriate format (can Windows Movie Maker rotate? if so, I have that, but need a (preferably free) conversion tool).

Suggest-o.

Dreaming of being a superhero?

Monty on the roof of the Global Headquarters.

What a fruitless day. A large chunk of it was spent trying to track down the correct brake parts for Hels’s car – ultimately I gave up searching the interwebnet and went to my local garage where they, helpfully, assured me that they were as confused as I am and suggested that the best thing to do was to take the old ones off and take them as patterns to a motor factor. Hmm.

After that, I went seeking some transparency film. Call me old-fashioned, call me a luddite, but don’t call me late for tea (very old family joke – sorry). "Why do I want transparency film?" I hear you ask. Well, the answer is that you don’t want it, I do. The reason is that I need to update my slide collection that I use when I’m giving presentations, particularly with new pictures of some of the plants that I look after in my work. But does anyone sell transparency film any more? Nope. Finally, I tracked down a particularly obscure old-fashioned photographic shop in a particularly obscure corner of NearbyTown (which is obscure in itself) and purchased two rolls of Konico-Minolta 100ASA film – not my preferred brand (always been a FujiFilm kind of guy), but given a choice of that or nothing, that will do.

I’ve also purchased a new (25 year old) lens for my (equally old) Olympus OM2N – my current one is not in the best of health and, for the sake of ten quid, the new one might just be better. Of course, the camera is not technically mine, as it really belongs to my brother, but as it has been in my possession for a considerable number of years now and he hasn’t asked for it back, I’m claiming squatter’s rights.

Subsequently, I’ve discovered that the camera had a part-exposed roll of film inside. So I’ve squandered the remaining frames on pictures of plants, of Tom and of the cats (Monty is so much better at posing than Treacle) and dropped it into Boots. I’ll be able to collect it on Saturday and, as I’ve asked for a CD of scans, you might get to see some pictures from it too. Of course, since it must be at least three years old, there is no telling what is on the first 23 frames of film. I suspect that it may well feature ex-girlfriends, which could make it, um, interesting. Hels has already said that she will delight in destroying any such photos as soon as possible. I’ll keep you posted.

Hula girl. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

I’ve just been to an exhibition in Padua. Here, a company selling plastic garden pools had a stand consisting of one representative, a desk, a sample plastic pool and, bizarrely, a mannequin dressed as a hula girl. No, I don’t know why either.

Olives. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

You’ve read articles about Italian olive farmers claiming EU subsidies for groves that have already been grubbed up. What you may not know is that there is a whole industry dedicated to putting these ancient trees into very small pots and then selling them at hugely inflated prices to idiotic northern Europeans like you and me. So it’s a win-win for the olive farmer.

Mmmm cheese. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

A cheese store in Padua. A purchase was made.

Blob on fluff. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

Treacle doing her best black-blob-with-eyes thing whilst sat on a fluffy cushion.
This photo should satisfy Bob.

Gnarled tree. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

Gnarled tree in Knole Park, Sevenoaks. Christmas Day 2005.

Blue flag, blue sky. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

Well, I thought it was pretty.

Aaargh! Golfers everywhere!. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

Flee! Flee!

Snow on a phone pole. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

How does snow have enough stick to stick to one side of the pole like that, yet was so powdery that none of us could make a decent snowball, yet alone a snowman?
Photo taken yesterday at Tenterden, Kent.

Sunrise. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

…with mist in the trees. We wake up to this view every morning – envy us!

ferry wake. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

More waves. And clouds.

North Sea. 
Originally uploaded by graybo.

Waves. And clouds.

To celebrate Dad’s birthday, Hels and I went with my parents for a stroll around Bosham on Wednesday. I got a bit artistic with the reflections in the water at the quay…

…and then we saw a fantastic sunset.

Treacle sleeps in some pretty odd places.
I’ve just spent 20 minutes cleaning up blood on the floor and the sofa. She’s had a fight with another cat and didn’t win – a tear in her left ear was dripping blood everywhere. I’ve cleaned up the blood and the wound, but she might end up with a "bus ticket" ear.

Legs at Hortifair.  
Originally uploaded by graybo.

Meilland Roses launched their new "Moulin Rouge" variety at last week’s Hortifair in Amsterdam. This scene would have been even funnier if there had been torsoes sticking out of the other side of the wall. Unfortunately, there weren’t.

Little fluffy clouds over Saunton Sands. Like cotton wool.

Looking west across the Taw-Torridge Estuary from near Crow Point.
We particularly liked what the clouds were doing that day.

See us? We’re so trendy that when we stop for coffee and croissants in Ilfracombe, the only place that we’re seen in is 11 The Quay, Damien Hirst’s uber-fashionable bar and restaurant by the harbour. Daaaahrlings!

The domes of the Eden Project rise out of the American Prairie and merge into the grey sky. Or something.
We were really impressed by the Eden Project – it was a full day out for us, with Hels managing to keep energy levels going through the whole day in spite of quite a lot of walking up and down the sides of the quarry in which the whole thing sits. It is much more than a garden – it is an entertaining and educational attraction with a definite "wow" factor.

Expect to see a few photos over the next few days from our holiday in Devon.

A garden bench, covered in lichen, at Rosemoor gardens.

I guess if your name is W.C. Leek, then the toilet hire business is for you. (Spotted in Amsterdam, April 2005).

When we visited Amsterdam in April, we passed the front door of this organisation:

Any idea what they do? It has to be a made-up name.

Blue flowers against a blue trellis. Either the best planting idea that I ever had, or the worst – depending on whether you like colours to blend or contrast.

When we were in the Netherands and Belgium in June, we stopped at a motorway services near Brussels. There we found that the closest parking to the entrance was not reserved for disabled or even for mother-and-baby parking. Instead, it was marked with this sign:

Naturally, we used the space.

Mannequin limbs spotted in a boutique in Maastricht, NL.

We all remember that the BBC News picture editor used to have a good line in comedy picture captions. Well, it can now be revealed that the same picture editor is clearly obsessed with breasts. Take a look at these example pictures:
New Big Brother contestant has large breasts as helpfully pointed out by the hand on the right hand side of the image.
Visitors to Viennese gallery have large breasts, although somehow I feel that the two people pictured are probably not representative of visitors to the Leopold.

A few people have noticed that things have been generally quieter than normal in these parts lately. One friend even suggested that I was coming across as distracted.
In addition, I’ve alluded to a few sleepless nights that we’ve had lately.
I even had to turn down an invitation for drinks from the Uborka Two and will be writing to the Sevitz to say that we can’t fit into his bra. Or something.
Here’s why:

Hels and I are absolutely delighted to announce that we are to be parents, with a baby due in January. When we’re not being absolutely terrified, we’re smiling like loons. Not everything has run smoothly thus far, as we’ve had a couple of scary moments in the emergency ward at the local maternity unit (where the staff are splendid, I must add). But things seem to be running relatively smoothly at the moment, with just the usual nausea, tiredness and urges to vomit. And that’s just me.
More news as things progress, and feel free to kick me under the table if I turn into a baby bore.
And before you ask, we don’t know yet if we need blue or pink baby clothes. We do intend to find out when the time comes, but we’ll be keeping it to ourselves until the baby is born (and I’ll try ever-so-hard only to refer to "it" or "the baby" and not to "he" or "she". Or "Dave".)

Inside Battersea Power Station.

A Taste Of Freedom.
Purchased in Vlijmen, Netherlands, 21/6/05. Almost certainly nothing like Mecca Bingo or MechaGodzilla.

Our Monty may weigh only a little more than 3.2kg, but he is a strong cat. We’ve just been fighting to get a worming tablet down his throat, and both of us now have the scars to show for it. In the end, we had to crush it and add it to his food, which has worked.
Treacle wasn’t much easier, but being only two-thirds of Monty’s size, she was easier to hold and medicate.

…and still battling to keep on top of tasks. A series of largely sleepless nights hasn’t helped either, but that’s a good excuse to get a jug of coffee on the go.
Meanwhile, the garden is progressing nicely…

I always used to get told off for doing this:

Cats have no manners.

Yesterday I took the day off (or most of it) and went with Hels and my parents to The Savill Garden in Windsor Great Park. Plants do a great job of looking very phallic at this time of year, none more so than the skunk arums, in this case Lysichiton camtschatcense.

We visited Gosport and Portsmouth this weekend to see my brother at his girlfriend’s house. These days, one thing stands out, begging to be photographed. I took a whole bunch, and reckon this to be the best, not for any technical reason but simply because it was caught in sunlight at that moment with dark clouds behind. The Spinnaker Tower:

I told you that they aren’t much company…

At least they’re both here today.

When I’m working at the table in the conservatory, I often have some company on the sofa behind me.

As you can see, today I’ve been joined by Monty – Treacle has retreated to the other sofa, in the living room. Neither of them are much company, to be honest, spending their time asleep. The only interaction occurs when they get up for lunch.

Incidentally, Hels and I have noticed that Monty has developed curly tips to his whiskers.

Split ends?

Two new header graphics – hit refresh endlessly until you see Hels’s shades close-up and "…grayblog…" daubed on the roof of St Paul’s, Fathers4Justice-stylee.

St Paul’s Cathedral, with a heavy dark shower cloud looming behind.

I took this picture, then we quickly dashed for cover before the heavens opened.

Newly restored. And rather lovely.

Monty has been bringing magpie feathers to me all morning. So far, he’s amassed a nice little pile.

I’ve just seen Treacle running through the garden with what looked like the rest of the magpie carcass in her mouth. Clearly she’s the pro here.

Budget day today. The BBC has used this picture of Gordon Brown on their front page:

I felt that he needed a fez:

Just like that!

So, Jordan didn’t win the Eurovision vote. I wonder if that had anything to do with the fact that, in this BBC photo, she has three arms and really unnaturally wide hips?

Have a look at the second photo in this news story. The caption suggests that the protestors are on a ledge at a height of 50 feet. Now, using the policeman and the railings to give some idea of the actual height, and judging by the fact that it is only on the first floor of the admittedly high-ceilinged Foreign Office, I reckon that ledge is only 35 feet or thereabouts. Pedant, moi?

I’m cute. You are powerless to resist.

From the Statue of Liberty to the Golden Gate Bridge – one photo for every mile.

Hels on the walls of the Chateau d’Angers.

Honfleur harbour.

For Lord Percy – a bunch of seagulls on the harbour wall at Honfleur, all facing the same way save for one that is facing the other way and appears to have no head. Raawwk!

Before:

After:

Note new border, created by first removing the turf, then deeply digging it, followed by incorporation of considerable quantities of well rotted farmyard manure and spent potting compost. Finally the willow tree was heavily pruned and the Euonymus and three lupins were planted.
The soil is rather heavy, a slightly greyish clay. Not the most exciting stuff and probably the sort that would put off a new gardener (or lead to fairly dismal results if they didn’t have some guidance as to how to treat it), but with the addition of plenty of humus and some grit (I’m going to nab some from the parents) I know that it can make an excellent garden soil that will permit a fairly wide range of plants to grow. I’ve not done a pH test, but judging by the presence of Rhododendrons in the neighbourhood, it must be fairly acidic. Not good news for bearded Irises, but an opportunity to play with some Japanese types and one or two of the more esoteric species.

Thankfully, I had some help:

Treacle came out too, but spent most of her time looking for mice under the shed.

So far, they’ve been chasing this fly for about twenty minutes. Nothing has been broken. Yet.

Deserted farms …in Iceland.

Monty on the conservatory windowsill.

He’s keen to get outside, but I think that his tendency to meow at everything will prevent him from getting within fifty yards of any bird.

Treacle in the living room. She’s gradually getting more confident, but still very much prefers to do things on her own terms and keeps herself to herself.
Monty, on the other hand, is a riot on four legs.

Spotted in a field near home the other day:

It is shown on the OS map as a "beacon" but what sort of beacon exactly? Is it a landing marker for UFOs? Is it, in fact, a crashed UFO? Will my brain be fried if I walk near it again?
Answers to the usual address.

…and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring…

…especially the kittens, because they were asleep on the clean laundry. Grr (but bless ‘em – they’re the best Christmas presents EVER).

Whatever your faith or belief, Hels, the kittens and I all wish you a peaceful and happy holiday.

So, whilst I may not be at the bloggers’ party tonight, I can live up to one other blogging tradition – yes, at long last, a post about kittens! I just know that this is going to make Vaughan jealous.
This week, we went down to the RSPCA cat rehoming centre at Hastings and put our name down for these two "poor little fellas". They’re going to make it, Rolf.
This one has been named Monty by us.

He’s completely mad, a total livewire. He’s bound to wreck the place.

This one has yet to be given a name.

She’s much more quiet and retiring, in marked contrast to Monty. We reckon that, once we have her here, a name will come to us.

The RSPCA will send out a visitor to check that we’re ok to own cats, but since we’ve already passed the test with another animal rehoming charity within the last week, we’re confident that it will just be a formality. In fact, we’re so confident that we went out and purchased kitten food, a litter tray, litter, a new cat flap (now fitted), a scratching post, a basket, a carrier and assorted toys today.
This is going to be fun.

On the main church in Taormina, right at the top of the façade, there is a skull and crossbones. Catholic pirates?

Look at the size of those zucchini!

More wedding photography. This image courtesy of Mrs Peet.

A rare photo of me dancing. Note that I succeeded in carrying this feat off without falling over, whereas my wife has sufficient grace and elegance to not only look fabulous whilst dancing, but can also hold a large gin and tonic without any spillage.

You asked for wedding photos. You get wedding photos.

Three blokes on a park bench in Catania:

The guy in the striped top seemed to be smiling and laughing all the time, whilst the chap in the checked trousers next to him seemed to be perpetually grumpy (we sat nearby for about 45 minutes, enjoying the last few minutes of our honeymoon, so got a good idea of what was going on between these people). I think that Checked Trouser’s grumpiness was a product of the fact that Striped Top had a big bag of chestnuts that he kept cracking open on the back of the bench and eating, and not sharing with his neighbour.

From the honeymoon – Mount Etna erupting.

We decided that close inspection of the crater probably wasn’t called for.

From the wedding – Lord Percy and Peet ham it up.

The full effect of the red wine was setting in by this point. (Photo courtesy of Mrs Peet).

…the water’s lovely.

Alternative caption: Hels’s poor hearing meant that she was oblivious to the horns of the supertanker as it ran her down.

Hels in Cefalú harbour.

You know, there was something about the markets in Sicily that set my pulses racing:

Off to Amsterdam for 24 hours. There will be more photos, I promise. And possibly more puns.

…and absolutely adored every minute in Sicily. Even if a few places were a bit fishy.

There will be more photos from Sicily and from the wedding. It may take me a few days to sort out, as I have a load of work to catch up on, lots to sort out with the house move, the BBC News archive to catch up on, and I’m off to Amsterdam for a flying visit at the end of the week.

This the only photo in which I’m not grinning like an idiot.
More when we get home from the honeymoon.

And thank you for all your lovely messages.

Not long now.
The weekend was spent settling in. Not that it is really that strange to be here – I’ve lived here for half the time for a quite a while now, but now there is nowhere else to go back to.
On Saturday, we had the wedding rehearsal. I can’t say that either of us remember very much about it – where we are supposed to stand, when to sit down, when to kneel – but we did learn that we can’t expect much from either the chief bridesmaid or the best man – both are likely to dissolve into tears on the day. Great. What hope is there for us? At least we are confident that Reverend Sue will guide us through the whole thing with a sense of humour.
Yesterday, a little safer in the knowledge that it will be our home by the end of November, Hels and I went down to the village where we shall be moving to, went for a quick drink in the local and then for a short walk across the nearby fields. We sussed out a lovely circular walk that will be ideal for exercising the legs of visitors after a heavy meal, or building an appetite in advance of one. It’s a beautiful spot, with gently rolling hills, lots of woodland and the odd bovine spectator.

This picture does not show me tied to some railings with clingfilm whilst being soaked with a watering can and garden hose. Oh no.

Thanks to everyone that came along for my stag night on Saturday. Particular thanks to Kristian at W2, and to Tim for putting the whole thing together. A very good time was had by all (I think – I can’t remember!).

So, O2 charge their old customers £59.99 to upgrade to a phone that they give for free to new customers. Unless your bills are as large as mine, in which case they give it to you for free because you are clearly too good a customer to lose.
Which is good.
So, a new Nokia 6230 is winging its way to me.

…they get runny beaks. Fact.

Henri Cartier-Bresson, RIP.
Related: Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson.

… it’s too hot to concentrate properly. Actually, I’m not sure it is the heat, per se, so much as the humidity. Anyway, recent weeks in bullet points, and in no particular order:

• Charlie and Pete’s wedding at Lancing College. Was fabulous. Involved very large quantities of food and even larger quantities of alcohol – two things essential for any successful wedding.
• Neil and Emma’s wedding at a hotel near Uckfield. Still more nosh and booze, plus funky music. And a rare opportunity for the Old Howardians to have a meeting – Sarah, David, Louise and Andy were present.
• A lengthy trip to the Netherlands and Belgium with PFE-supporter Mike, involving lots of visits and meetings (about 15, I think), driving for more than 1500 miles in six days, a particularly dodgy hotel in Lochristi and an impressive journey in a gathering storm across the Markerwaarddijk.
• A much shorter trip to the Irish Republic, mainly visiting a trade show at the Punchestown Racecourse. Note to travellers – BA are now just as cheap and often cheaper than easyjet or Ryanair, with the added advantages of more comfortable seats, free coffee or tea, a sandwich and an allocated seat.
• Hels has had a hearing test. She was forced to go private, as the NHS waiting list just for a test is two years. Well done Mr Blair. Anyway, the results were not overly encouraging, and more tests are planned, including an MRI scan. H is definitely nervous about this.
• Barbeque at Charlie and Pete’s – more food, more drink, good company.
• Flat sales update: with two agents now working on mine, there is plenty of interest, but still no offers. We are now in the summer holidays, which is the worst time of year to sell a flat, but we keep trying. H’s flat is back on the market, but is not fetching huge amounts of interest at the moment. We’re resigned to not having a home together by the wedding, but we’ve managed so far, so managing for a little longer will be an irritation, not a disaster. What’s more important is that we now need to borrow money for the wedding – thankfully, the Bank of Dad is offering good terms at the moment.

I’m sure that there is much more to tell you, but it’s too hot to type much, and I don’t really have the time either. So, to keep you all happy, here are some piccies:

The Maarkermeer with storm approaching.

The Boomkwekerijmuseum – a museum dedicated to nurseries growing woody plants, in Boskoop, Netherlands.

You know Peace lilies – Spathiphyllums – that they sell in Marks and Spencer? Here they are produced on factory scale, mostly mechanised, disappearing off as far as the eye can see.

More when I get round to it/feel like it.

Three new headers from photos taken in the Netherlands – hit F5 enough and you’ll see them.

• Boomkewkerijmuseum
• Dijk
• Horizon

Because I can, here’s a picture of my beautiful fiancée, browsing the menu at Charlie and Pete’s wedding on Saturday.

And, yes, we really did have four wine glasses each.

I’m frighteningly short of time for creating content here, so apologies for that.
Even more short of time than me is Lord Percy, who is moving house this week. However, he has found time to do some PhotoShop wizardry on Little Otik:


Which seems as good an opportunity as any to launch a new picture editing competition. (You can find the results from the last one here – apologies for some of the broken image links – they’re on my old desktop which is currently mothballed and won’t resurface until we move in to our new home).

As usual, the prize will be a pack of pickled onion flavour Monster Munch (which, as Ade will vouch, is unlikely to ever be delivered), with firm handshakes for the runners-up.

For all the details, click here.

Today, we went for a short stroll around Wilderness Wood, near Uckfield (stop it!). It comes highly recommended and looks like this:

The pea and chive soup that is served in the little café is rather good too.

From our walk last weekend – a chalk ball on Cocking Down (stop it!), with a view over the Weald towards Graffham and Petworth.

Yesterday, we took a little jaunt down to Bodiam Castle. It looks like this…

As you might expect on Good Friday, it was full of holidaymakers and tourists, including any number of small children with plastic swords and shields, running around the ramparts and giving their parents heart attacks as the charge up and down the tightly winding spiral stone stairways.
I last visited Bodiam when I was very young. It’s an interesting place to visit, although I think it is more likely to be interesting to a five year old than an adult – I think it could do with a few more interpretation signs, rather than relying on visitors to buy the fancy glossy guidebook.
And it’s a shame that our post-castle picnic by the Rother was spoilt by mindless people who let their dogs run and crap everywhere. Still, the tranquility, views of the valley and steam railway and the sounds of the skylarks overhead went some way to making up for that annoyance.

Today we took a trip to London to visit Greenwich and Borough markets. We have plans for a foodfest trip to Borough in the not-too-distant future.

Still haven’t had much time to play with the new toy, but here’s a portrait of Seamus that I took with it yesterday. Click on the picture to get full-on biggification.