The Plan

It's not certain, but I'm fairly sure I'll be getting a new leg soon (when I say leg, I actually mean hip, but effectively, it's a new leg).
I've not seen the quacks yet, but I've had enough, Emily has had enough, work has had enough, and anyone who reads this has probably had enough....
The only person who hasn't had enough is my Rheumatologist who charges £200 a visit to do little more than grimace at me half undressed and who fails to inspire confidence by asking me "which hip is it again?"

I think it's time to book an appointment with Dr Mengele again.

The other reason for wanting the opp now is that I'm the size of a small bungalow (furnished with a large unkempt garden at the rear) with less mobility. You see, as my mobility decreases my lard content increases, and the easiest way I've found for loosing the lard is to walk... (the distance I can walk without inflickting damage is rapidly decreasing, anything over half a mile now has me in agony).

and so to the plan....

I want to climb (walk) up Helm Crag in the Lake District about this time next year.

You see, I figure that if I have my new leg fitted at the end of October this year, I'll probably be fit enough to walk up a steep hill by August/September 2008.

I've chosen Helm Crag mainly because of a certain Mr A Wainwright's Pictorial Guides to the Lake Land Fells. A 7 book series to the fells (hills and bigger hills but not quite mountains) within the Lake District (North West England).

Helm Crag is a little easier than some of the other monsters and has a fantastic view of the valley and Grasmere..... all I need is some basic walking gear and the best part of a day to do it.... and a hotel to stay for the weekend.

I'd like to do all this on a weekend, drive up there, book into a hotel, Saturday morning walk to the summit of Helm Crag and spend the rest of the evening in the hotel bar celebrating with my new hip.... then home at some point Sunday..... after the traditional Sunday Lunch of course.

I'm gonna book a room for myself at the Waterside Hotel in Grasmere for the weekend of 22/23 August 2008.... although they arnt taking bookings for August 2008 as yet.

I know its a long way off (time wise), but if anyone fancies tagging along they are more than welcome.

today, I will be that ghost.

Wow.... how quiet can a place be? How excited about [another] new day can someone be?

This morning was very different to the last nine. Not once did I have to say "Shhhhh" people are still asleep! or ask what should we have for breakfast today.....

The flat is still the same, but there's a huge void. The TV's not on, there's no trail of coloured paper, wrappers, crisps, colouring pens, socks, the odd shoe or bits of Barbie that I need to navigate.

Today, my big chair is empty. Thats were Em can usually be found first thing,wrapped in her Barbie dressing gown, waiting for me to join her while the pain au choc warms up in the kitchen.

They say ghosts are attracted to kids because of the huge life force they contain.......

today, I will be that ghost.

Very important kettle news

So Emily has outgrown the local park when it comes to cycling, the next step was to find somewhere she can ride without having to deal with traffic. Not a problem, I remember the Lookout in Bracknell has miles and miles of cycleways for her to play on..... only this time I'd have to join her..... on my own bicycle. That of course introduces more problems, things like, can I actually ride a bike with my gammy leg? will the bike still work (it's been at the back of the garage for about 7 years), and how the hell do I transport two bicycles in a Ford Fiesta?

Ok, problem one: Can I still ride a bike with my gammy leg?

Yes, I tested my ability by borrowing the lodgers bike (sorry bicycle, if you know my lodger then you'll also know about his stash of marriage certificates) . Surprising enough it didn't hurt at all, well the riding didn't, but getting my leg over did (oh boy, that last statement rings true in so many other situations). I found that if I almost lay the bike flat I can straddle it then lift it into position... it looks just as stupid as it sounds... but it works.

Problem two: Does my bike still work 7 years on?

Yes. The tires needed pumping up, a little WD40 in a few places and new batteries for the lights and cycle computer and it was set.

Problem three: Fitting two bikes to a Ford Fiesta

Solved by shedding out £50 on a bike rack, which to my surprise actually worked!

S0, Sunday saw Em and me in Swinley Forest attempting to circumnavigate other cyclists, walkers, walkers with buggies, runners, runners with buggies and what looked like the entire contents of Battersea Dogs Home.... also with buggies.

Anyway, we managed to dodge them all but did succumb a few times to the loose gravely surface but escaped with only slight bruises to the ego. The important part was Em loved it all, and through falling off she also gained knowledge of braking and picking out a more stable route.

Like to see some pictures? well you cant cos I forgot my camera, anyhow, it's not pretty seeing me on a bike, especially in shorts (no, not cycling shorts, there are limits.... and probably decency laws).

Instead, here's a picture of my new kettle

The Last....

I have nothing of interest to say, I understand thats never stopped me before, but for some reason I feel the urge to post something here........ and I need an alternative to the grinding tedium of enforced labour I'm currently experiencing.

The most interesting thing I have to do today is have the tires on my evil Ford Fiesta balanced.... Not even the Buggles "Living in the plastic age" can bring my outta this tedious mood. Anyhow, to try and get some human response (even if it is virtual) I've concocted a LIST of "The Last.."...

Rules are simple, there arnt any. But if you're the type that needs some sort of structure then this should help.

Copy the list below, add your name at the top, delete any previous responses then post back here so we can all attempt to deduce your bank account details, social security number and whether or not you need professional help.

Here goes....

--------------------------------------------------------------------

My Name is Dave,  and I'm a blogger and I'm male

The Last.....
 
person you punched.
Paul Robinson. We were both 11 years old. He was gonna beat me up, so I lamped him one while he was taking his pullover off

haircut, how much was it
£16 with a £4 tip

time you thought you were gonna die
I was about 11 years old. I got hit in the head with a flying bolt that Paul Robinson threw at me. I've still never seen so much claret....... or anytime I fly

holiday
Bike Trip to Wales last month

flowers you sent/received
Sent: 2 or 3 years ago, probably to Bebe. Received: Never

album/single/song you bought (and how, store, download, bribe?)
Buggles: Plastic Age. Downloaded

paid job you had
Drum Tech, The Wonder Stuff Tour 2006

alcoholic drink you had
Bulmers Cider, 2 days ago

bowel movement
Yesterday..... but there's still some questions left, you never know!

Kiss
Romantic: probably 2 years ago.

Stitch (either cosmetic, accident, or self prescribed (like Rambo))
Never! not even the flying bolt resulted in stitches (just butterfly clips)

time you cheated on a loved one
Never, not once.... mostly cos I'm bloody ugly and never get propositioned

lie you told your boss
30 seconds ago. He saw the blogger editor! I simply picked up a pen, threw it down the walkway and said "FETCH". Works everytime

time you felt that initial "I'm in love!" feeling
1000 years ago

pair of shoes you bought
I have a feeling it was about 3 years ago.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Management intervention saves the day

HEADLINES: Impending flood at HAL Weybridge office averted by management intervention.

The Environment Agency issued a "very possible....... probably, you never know" flood alert within the Weybridge/Addlestone area. Businesses within the area should "do something or other" to prevent things getting damp, moist or just plain wet.

In response, HAL management convened an emergency meeting at its Weybridge Offices to decide on what should be done about the flood warnings

The plans revealed by its spokesperson involves several senior managers standing at the banks of the Wey Navigation, pointing and instructing the flood waters to cease its advancement and return to the hills from whence it came.

"Operation King Canute will deliver results that are in-line with our business model and will achieve double-digit flood reduction" said a spokesperson.

When asked why the operation had been named after a legendary 11th century King who failed to turn back the tide the spokesman replied "we think the King had the perfect answer, hence the adoption of the name, he failed [King Canute] because he wasn't an "Officer Of The Company" and therefore didn't have the necessary authority"

The spokesperson then added.

"Expectations for success of Operation King Canute are extremely high but should the Operation fail we will instigate our contingency plan which includes a DSG (designated scapegoat), a large sweeping brush and an already lumpy carpet.

Tiggy.

Tiggy.... it what we called the game of "Tag" up north.... which included variations like "Tiggy on high" which involved jumping from coalhouse roof to coalhouse roof in the street (Billy Elliot dances on his coalhouse roof... which, by the way, was filmed in the town I grew up in)

All of which has little to do with the following..... PT tagged me (a blogger tag that is) and as I wasn't standing on my coalhouse roof I have to accept..... and I didn't have "Skinchies" either

The rules are simple…Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The
rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are
listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their
names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know
that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog

Facts/Habits

1. I have a "system" of washing certain body parts in a certain order in the shower. I should point out that they are all my own body parts and this is no way an admission of guilt. The vegetable patch in the shape of my ex wife is purely coincidental and I had planning permission for the patio months before she left.
2. I shave south of the border. Visits to Scotland tend to be matted and itchy
3. I record episodes of "Last of the Summer Wine"
4. I kiss and thank "Mr Blue Sky" every time I make it back to my garage after a rideout
5. I MUST remove the tea bag BEFORE I add milk
6. I sleep with one leg out of the bed and higher than the other (can be either leg too)
7. I can only eat Weetabix in private
8. While watching TV, I make shapes in the air with my foot.... mostly types of loops and figure 8's.... I may start drawing out these shapes on paper, it could be the start of a new kind of workout.... Quick, someone think of a witty name for it!

According to the rules I'm supposed to tag 8 other people..... I don't know 8 other people with blogs that would play...... So I need to rely on any lurkers out there who read this blog but never comment.....

Remember to link back here, we're all very curious to find out more!

New title

New title, or if I were in marketing, had no soul and the morals of pond life, I'd probably call it "Re-Branding".

But for the grace of God......

Anyhow, I've done it. Gone is the Lobster that served me so well in the early days. No more will "Breakfast" be put on a lead and walked down the street.

Instead I now have what I think should be printed on almost anything that has a value to most people. Be it a new car, that house you've saved all these years for, the new born child, the job and career, and the most important of all documents, the marriage certificate.

All need to have the *Happiness not included stamped somewhere. Just as toy manufactures have the disclaimer "* Batteries not included" stamped on the package to inform the stupid and careless that their latest purchase actually needs electricity to run. I think we need to inform the masses that happiness is seldom listed as part of the ingredients and never in a binding contract.

The content wont change, it'll still be full of half thought out notions, ill conceived rants, self pitty emotive and possibly libelous posts.

So, let me know what you think.

It's nobbly and bobbly.

This is a Nobbly Bobbly. .....

Yes, I know what you're thinking. It's just an ice lolly.

But don't be fooled. It probably contains Nicotine, Heroine and/or Crack Cocaine

See. I had no intention of eating an Ice lolly at 09.15 this morning, but look. The horny little devil seduced me with its nobbly bobbly bits filled with illegal substances... probably.

No....

Emily
Lodger
On Call
Club Rideout
Phone Calls
Post
Debates
Visitors
Family Visits
Emails
Video Games
Whispering
Arguments
Cooked Meals
Coffee
Wet bathroom carpet
Nobbly Bobbly's
Conversations
Clothes
Deliveries
Shouting
Commitments

"What did you do this weekend Dave?"

"Nothing, and it was everything I Imagined it would be"

It's persisting down

I found Belgium! It's at the end of France if you need a point of reference.
So, 1001.5 miles in 3 days. No one fell off or broke down and only one puncture amongst 80 bikes. The IAM should be proud!

I was impressed by the Eurotunnel as there's very little fannying about, ride on, wait 30 minutes then ride off into France. As it was my first time the captain invited me onto the flight deck. He then attempted to chat me up and ask me out on a date, I turned him down of course.

The picture above is of the Eurotunnel flight deck on the British side. On the French end the steering wheel is on the other side and the electrics are dodgy.

The entire trip ended up being extremely wet, it started raining at Junction 11 off the M25 in the UK and didn't stop 'till 10 minutes after I got back.

The most impressive thing about riding on the European mainland is the lack of traffic, no open shops and..... no people! I also noticed that the few locals we did meet could speak fairly good English, which is how it should be of course.

I have a medical condition which prevents me from understanding foreign languages but have since managed to say a few french phrases, mostly gibberish, some offensive and a few made up. As I didn't get thumped or arrested I consider that a success.

I also met a fellow WVAM member called Peter Lee. Which is odd because I used to live in Peterlee but was purged sometime ago. No doubt he's got a very large colon. I didn't get much further with Peter as he hummed of "management" and had a forced ambitious side to him. I've no doubt he's a very nice person and will end up happily married to a beautiful and faithful wife with a big house and own several large screen TV's and a heated swimming pool.

Briefly

Quickly barman, the worlds about to end

• Emily's 7th birthday bowling party was a hoot and everyone enjoyed themselves.


• My sister, niece and nephew weren't nearly as obnoxious as I thought they would of been


• I have no idea where Belgium is


• I have a new hoover


• Everyone at work thinks I'm a c**t, but the voices in my head tell me different.


• I'm riding to Belgium at the weekend


• I ate 8 Nobbly Bobbly's on Sunday


• Bleach can un-stain a stained sink


• My lavatory cant handle large amounts of human waste


• The gene that helps you understand a foriegn language was chemically removed from me at an early age by applying light machine oil to the underarms

Road Trip....

This should be fun. Milo is playing a charity event on Saturday in Stourbridge and I've been invited along to a bit of a pub crawl in and about the local environs by Milo's brother Russ.

The pub crawl was organised quite sometime ago, so long ago that I've completely forgotten the reason why.... and being a bloke I'm not about to admit that to anyone (who hasn't read this blog of course).

I love going to the midlands, it's a kinda home coming, even tho I'm not from Brimingham or the Black Country.

The reason I feel so comfortable there is the music. I've always had a leaning towards music from that area. Dunno why, it just is..... Slade, Duran Duran, Electric Light Orchestra, The Wonder Stuff, Miles Hunt, Carina Round, PWEI to name a few.

So, expect a few photo's

Dave "Battenburg" Dawson......

Last week saw another live gig by Miles Hunt and Erica Nockalls to promote Mr Hunts new solo album "Not an exit". As usual, a fine performance which has a tendency to restore my faith in humankind just long enough to get me to the next live event.

When Milo does a solo tour it usually includes a stop off at the Half Moon in Putney, that means it's a local gig.... which in turn allows me to get horribly drunk and to revel in Mr Hunts creations.

Now, Miles is well known for his banter between songs, sometimes he explains the story behind the song, sometimes not.... it can be a lottery. What you don't expect is to hear your name mentioned with regard to one of his songs, which is what happened last week.

Unfortunately, I'd past the point of being attentive to what was being said and missed the gist of why I'd been named.

The song I'd been linked to was "The Cake", a title on the new album...... Thank heavens it wasnt "Size of a cow". I didnt have time after the gig to ask what the connection is as Milo was busy signing stuff and I had a lift to catch.... anyhow, whatever the connection, its bloody great being associated with anything that fella produces.

I 'ate you Butler

The original idea was that I "help" a mate with a few issues when it comes to drum fills and breaks. Should be easy enough, an hour on the throne and he'll be breaking around the kit like a pro. Seems teaching is a little more difficult, especially as Aaron (the fella in question) has the rhythm of a collapsing building..... which is a little ironic as from a distance it sounds like he's building a shed*

After several cups of tea it was decided that I'd stick around for the nights session. It came to pass that Aaron had borrowed a small....very very small mixing desk.... no not desk..... more post it pad sized thing along with two studio mics.

Considering that there were to be 2 guitars (bass and electric 6'er), drums, keyboards and two vocalists I decided to opt out of the logistics of gathering all those sounds together into something that resembled organised music. Eventually, when the stench of too many cooks had dispersed we were left with one spare singer and a keyboard without an amp. Apparently the only audience for the keyboard was to be the tape recorder as it seems it plays no role within the band.... don't ask

As it happened I had a bit of a hoot, there were times when bass, guitar and drums found that groove, enjoyed the surroundings, admired the swirlyness before being ejected into the street for groping some blokes squeeze by mistake..... I think its called being creative, sometimes you hit the nail on the head and other times you run screaming into the road hoping to be hit by a number 11 bus to the cemetery gates.

Now then, when I was in a band our "tapes" were kept very close to our chests, most 'cos they were bloody awful, but deep down, we knew we could do better. We'd keep them under wraps until we were tight and could maybe afford some recording time (although we never did).

Aaron decided to "release" them on t'internet. Said like that, it conjours up images of some endangered species being set free in the middle of nowhere, to live out the rest of its days unhindered by man's intervention. Unfortunately, this "tape" should of been corralled into a small area then humanly put to death, quietly and with as much dignity that can be mustered.

Of course I'm being very critical, every journey starts with a single step and this is very much a wobbly stumble across the lino. Who knows, with a little practice it may turn into a runner.

Anyhow, here's a link to the site.... but be careful, its a shocker. Scree


* Aaron. Don't be too upset about my criticisms. This is a blog and artistic licence is in play

I want to ride my bicycle

As you can see, SHE RIDES WITHOUT STABILISERS!!!

But best of all, she did it with her Daddy. Something she wont forget and will carry with her forever, as I will.

Of course she needs a few more hours in the saddle to help with stopping, starting and turning.... but apart from that, she'll be fine!

Water.....

I'm a product of the industrial 70's. I'm built from processed foods, crimpolene, terylene, artificial sweeteners and I probably contain more E numbers than a primary school's kitchen



My body has a half life of several thousand years and will continue to contaminate the water table for some time to come..... although I do seem to be dissolving from the inside out.... my hip and thyroid is one example and the other is currently blocking the lavatory back at the flat (sorry about that John*..... I attempted to tackle it this morning but as I approached it with the kitchen chair and the builders trowel I swear it growled at me!)

This of course has nothing to do with this post... well not much. You see, I just happened to come across a TV program some weeks ago that suggested Aspartame could be linked with the onset and continuation of arthritis, which is the diagnosis I've been given for my knackered hip.

So, I thought I'd attempt to remove this artificial sweetener from my diet...

That means not drinking anymore "diet" soft drinks (amongst other things of course). So, I was on water only..... I've never been fond of drinking water, I dont really like the taste.... and I've seen what fish do it in.... Then there's bottled water, which has too much of a poncy feeling about it... no, It'll have to be filtered tap water. UK tap water is about as pure as you can get, really..... I filter it cos of the fish thing. I know its irrational, but with the help of a Brita water filter I'm overcoming it.

You know, this chilled filtered tap water is quite nice, I do lapse occasionally and have the odd can of Pepsi Max, but not often. I've even been testing out some brands of Tea.... I'm currently drinking two types at the moment......Twinings Pure White Tea and a Ginger Herbal Tea... which is surprisingly tasty.

Next week I shall be experimenting with Yoga.







* John is my lodger, he rents a room from me. He is not my gay live in lover. If I was gay I'd pick someone much better looking (someone "scrummy")

Can we stop to do some shopping?

If you have a bike, then go to Wales..... unless its a Hardly-Ableson as they have corners and bends in Wales that require you to lean the machine into. Something the Hog was never designed to do.

I've just come back from 3 days of intensive biking (750 miles in total). Five blokes, four of them IAM level and one who's almost there..... and not one whining over sensitive fun bothering female person in sight...

God is a biker, there's no other reason to arrange the hills and valleys of Wales in a way that makes almost every road a technical adventure to negotiate on a bike. The Devil of course drives an underpowered Skoda towing an unfeasibly large caravan, or as I like to call them, moving chicanes.

Luckily for us, the Devil was off shaking chimney stacks in Kent and left the Welsh roads caravan free. Bloody fantastic.

Left hander......possible knee down event.

I quickly and unconsciously skim through "the system".... the bend is visible all the way through, nowt on the road, nothing to hit, my position adjusted, just left of the long white divide. Speed and gear selection needs to be perfect, enough speed to keep the adrenalin flowing and the correct gear to neutralise the suspension bias front and back.

Everything slows down, becomes quiet and I feel a tightness spread across my face as the inevitable grin begins to show.... Arse slips off the seat to the left, right elbow anchors itself into the recess contoured into the tank design, left knee and leg rotate outwards ready to skim the bitumen.
Subconsciously I begin the turn, but thats not enough to do this correctly, I need to apply some science and have heroic amounts of self belief to stop under-steering and meeting an oncoming tree....or worse.
Forcing a 1000 yard stare up the road to where I need to be in just a few short seconds and applying a forward push on the left bar to countersteer the bike and myself around the apex...... Ground rush becomes apparent to peripheral vision as the lean angle increases.....I try not to think of the forces being transmitted through the bike, to the suspension and down to the tires and onto a contact patch with the road the size of a credit card.

I can feel the increase in G's spike then begin to fade, perfectly in unison with the degrees of lean. The throttle is slowly opened making sure I don't over do it and spoil the whole experience by spinning up the rear tire too early and invoking a spleen shattering high-side......

As the bike returns to its perpendicular attitude and my arse finds its usual residence I begin to hear a strange noise in my helmet , sounds like a screaming, giggling, over excited 10 year old at a Beyonce concert....... feck...... that noise belongs to me.

Oh look! another bend up ahead...... possible knee down event.

Note to self....

Who needs drugs when you've got music? It can change your mood quicker than a dose of prozak..

So, Mr Hunt is out and about on another tour along with Miss Fidley (aka Erica, pictured above... ain't she scrummy!). I urge you to pop over to his new Myspace page and have a listen to Note to self, to say its bloody marvellous is an understatement in the extreme.

The tour is planned to coincide with the new album released at the end of this month (Not an Exit), so if ya liked the samples on his webpage then get yaself a ticket or two and who knows, I might see ya soon....



I'll be in the usual place at the Half Moon in Putney May 22nd, in the usual drunken state I expect.

Is that bone I can smell burning?

Damn my dodgy hip....

I'm at the stage where I'm attempting to help my daughter to ride a bike. She's 6 and very confident..... which is great, but you do need some basics before you take the training wheels off... like the ability to point the bike in a direction that dosent end up in a collision with either people, trees, kerbs or me. The use of "brakes" seems to be an afterthought... usually after she's hit something.

So, I've been out to the park attempting to "help".... but how? I've found it very difficult to just "let her go" or perhaps that should read "let her fall off".... I got her knee protectors, elbow protectors, hand protectors and a cycle helmet, but its still not enough to put my mind at rest. Maybe I should let her wear the gear instead of me..

Eventually my hip decided it was time I should let her go, I'm not built for jogging in any condition let alone 23 degrees of sunshine.... unless being chased by carnivorous wild animals which thankfully are few and far between within the M25 area. Actually, I'm not really built for any kind of outside hard labour, my genes lie with a life of cold underground digging. When I'm exposed to sunshine my skin turns from its natural northern blue-white shade to a very angry and burnt red colour.

Anyhow, Emily did very well, she scared herself a few times as well as a few passing joggers and dog walkers but didn't actually fall off. Best of all she enjoyed it although she didn't quite get to ride without the training wheels.... maybe next week

I had to resort to a heroic dose of combined pain killers and the walking stick came out to play again..... I just hope Em cracks riding the bike sooner rather than later as the smell of burning hip joint isn't pleasant.

Oh well.

Barking mad

Everything seems to be sorted in the flat.... well, all the major stuff anyhow. For a single bloke that means all the audio/visual equipment is installed and my clothes are still in boxes in the bedroom.

Still dont know a great deal about my neighbours, I'm sandwiched between two single mothers with an undisclosed number of children..... all below the age of 5. As these flats were built in the 70's before compressed straw-walls were invented I've found little noise pollution, but ask me again in another month or so.

The car park outside the flats tells me there's a copper living close, as well as a taxi driver.... the other inhabitants have alluded me so far.

The only strange thing worth mentioning are the kids in the taller block of flats over the road...... they.....bark. Once you get over the initial shock you start to notice that it's not just one type of bark, they seem to be able to produce several types of canine auditory manifestations which include howling, yelping, growling, snarling and occasional whimpering. Thankfully we're separated by a large fence and brick garages. I've have yet to determine if they also foul the pavements and/or bite