Two down. Or not. Yes it is! Or is it?

The answer is a resounding: maybe.

By about 2 yesterday, I was becoming increasingly sure that the Sky Guy wasn't coming. And, to be fair, there was justification for that - the previous team had said that the job couldn't be done on a wet roof, and it had been raining hard when I left in the morning. But, much to my surprise, I received a call just after half two, and off home I went.

An hour later, the team arrived, and an hour after that, the installation was done. They wired up the system, checked that the key functions were all working (I could see Sky 1, Sky Sports 1, Sky Movies Premier, could record, playback, and view one programme while recording another). All in all, it looked good. And so off they went, and all was well with the world.

For about ten minutes.

After a while, I chanced to flick across to Sky 2, to be met with the message, "No satellite signal is being received." Sky 3 was the same, as was Virgin 1, and a number of other channels. But Sky 1 remained intact, as did the others I had been able to view.

So, I called technical services, and the guy there took me through retuning the box, and a few other things, but to no avail. We'd need to book in a visit to have the system looked at. And so I was put through to yet another guy.

And, of course, the next available appointment was next Monday.

But, just before signing off, the guy did mention one trick: if I set the system to record a channel, and then tuned to a channel I couldn't otherwise see, that would force the system to use its other input, and might help. Which, indeed, it did. (At this point, a suspicion emerged - there had been a wire already connected to the pre-existing dish, and it had been reused for this installation. So, perhaps I had one 'good' wire, and one that needed replaced?) Anyway, in light of this, the guy suggested unplugging both wires and switching them over. And then the call was over.

When I switched the cables over, the problems disappeared entirely. All channels are now available, and I can record two of the previously-bad channels simultaneously without issue. It's entirely possible that the root cause was nothing more than a loose connection, that has now been fixed, and won't be coming back.

So... I'm going to leave the appointment in place until Saturday evening. If I don't have any further problems by then, I'll call and cancel - no point getting a team out to a system that is actually working, and I can do without the hassle.

It will be good if this really is the end of the matter. The past three weeks have actually shown quite clearly that Sky (and, actually, TV in general) really isn't something I'm all that dependent on, especially once I'm no longer 'current' on the shows I'm watching. However, it was always something that I 'should' have been able to get, and having the constant battle to actually get it installed was a real source of stress.

And now, all that remains is for the broadband to get switched on, hopefully on Thursday.

Experimental Cookery 'Tuesday' #24: Vegetable Jalfrezi

Due to scheduling mix up, I found myself going from being triple-booked on Saturday afternoon to being at a loose end. Which provided a fine opportunity for me to steal a march of this week's Tuesday (which may be similarly busy). Hence this post.

For reasons unknown, I found it impossible for find the required jalfrezi paste for this recipe. I tried four different supermarkets, and while I was able to track down every other paste in the range, the jalfrezi eluded me. (I did take the opportunity to stock up on the others for later use.) In the end, therefore, I was forced to substitute, using a jalfrezi cook-in sauce that seemed about as close as I was going to get. In the end, I don't think it made much difference.

This meal was also a fine opportunity for me to break in my exciting new casserole dish, which was obviously hugely exciting. It is a sad comment on the state of my life that this represents the third most interesting thing to happen to me on Saturday. (The second most interesting was receiving a long-expected call from Juliet about the weeding of the year. As for the most interesting, well, watch this space...)

The meal itself cooked fairly easily, despite being fairly time consuming. Lots of chopping of vegetables, and then that long 45-minute simmer stage.

And when it came out... eh. Like so much vegetarian food, it was nice enough but rather lacking. I ended up with eight servings, seven of which are now in my freezer to be consumed at a later date. But, once those are done, I don't expect I'll be having this one again.
I'm going to call that 1-1.

The next entry in the book is "Leftover Curry Biryani". However, as this obviously requires a leftover curry as one of the ingredents, and as I don't really fancy using either the korma or the jalfrezi in this capacity, I am instead going to take the dangerous step of skipping this meal for a week. Instead, I shall move on to "Lamb Rogan Josh", and next week I shall use that to complete the biryani. Also, I still haven't had occasion to try any of the rice variants, nor the bhajis.

Experimental Cookery Breakfasts #6 and #7: Fried Eggs and Scrambled Eggs

These were another two instances of "cook it for a bit, eat enough to count as having tried it, and then ferry the rest to the bin." The scrambled eggs were rather better than the fried eggs, and both actually came out as they were intended, but I still don't like eggs.

That'll be 4-3.

There are now two more episodes in the egg odyssey, being poached eggs and omlettes. I'm thinking I'll try only one of them this weekend, as I have to go see the optician on Saturday.

One Down

As of last night, my telephone line has finally been renumbered. So, that's that done. The list is now down to three entries.

The word on my internet connection is that it might be another week yet before it is connected. To say that is annoying is an understatement, but there's nothing can be done about it (allegedly).

With a lot of luck, I'll get Sky connected on Monday. To be honest, I don't hold out too much hope for this. However, even if it were to be connected, I've now missed several episodes of each of the shows I watch, and with the heavy continuity those shows all use, there's very little point in trying to jump back in. Sigh.

The only other task on my list is finding a new GP. I have a list of phone numbers for all the local practices, so it's really just a matter of phoning around. I'll try to get on with that today.

And that should do it - once these are all completed, the process of moving in will finally be complete. And, in under the five months it took to finally get broadband in my previous flat.

Offensively Incompetent

Amongst the TV adverts that I find particularly offensive are a trio of "Big Brother is watching you" styled adverts. The first claims that the TV licensing database is keeping a close eye, the second that the car tax database knows exactly which cars aren't registered, and the third claims that they're closing in on benefits cheats. It's as if these various organisations have read "Nineteen Eighty-Four", but haven't realised that it's a warning, and not a how-to guide for good governance.

(The car tax one is particularly offensive. If the powers-that-be were really concerned about getting in all the money due for car tax, they would actually abolish the tax disk, and instead roll the charge into fuel duties. This would have the benefit of being much easier to administer and much harder to dodge. It would also be inherently fairer, as heavy road users would use more fuel and so pay more tax, would ensure that vehicles that damage the roads more would pay more by virtue of using more fuel, and would ensure that foreign vehicles using our roads would pay an appropriate level of tax. It would also be yet another step towards the governments green agenda, since again vehicles that are more efficient cause less pollution by virtue of using less fuel. But, in fact, car tax isn't about the money, but rather about control - the government want to keep track of who owns which car and where. Or perhaps it's about making work for another layer of civil servants.)

Anyway, offensive as these adverts are, I think I am more annoyed by the utter failure of these supposed systems to actually work. Now, I can't speak about the "benefits cheats" issue, since the one and only time I actually tried to claim a benefit I was entitled to, I was turned down. Since the Job Centre was peopled by zombies, I decided to let the money go rather than fight for it.

Although, perhaps there's this: if the database is so good at identifying cheats, why haven't they cut off the benefits to these people?

Anyway...

On Saturday, I looked out of my window, and saw a traffic warden making his way down the street. he stopped briefly at each vehicle, as if checking something. At this, I felt a moment of panic - was there perhaps some parking restriction that I didn't know about? Sure, there weren't any lines on the street, nor any signs stating a restriction, but that wouldn't necessarily stop them - a standard tactic is for them to write the ticket anyway, and then close all the bureaucratic doors so that it's easier and less costly just to pay rather than fight the ticket.

But, no. It turned out there is no restriction. Instead, he was busily checking the tax disks of the vehicles on the street. Which raises the question: what about the database? Surely, if it is so wonderful and up-to-date, then they don't need to actually check the physical disks, but can rather perform a query electronically?

Apparently not. I guess Big Brother isn't really watching us after all.

But then there's the TV license. Ah, the joys of the TV license.

I moved house on the 21st of February. And, as Graeme will confirm, on the 21st of February I refused to let him put the TV on because the license hadn't been transferred. This was finally done early on the 23rd.

Now, the best way to transfer the license would have been online, of course, but that wasn't an option. Instead, I was forced to use the telephone, which put me through an automated system. After several minutes of dealing with this, I had completed the task, although I was never entirely convinced that it actually had the right data in place.

Yesterday, I received a threatening letter from the TV licensing people. My address wasn't licensed, and they were all set to release the hounds. I had to act NOW NOW NOW, or they'd come and stab me repeatedly in the head. Or something.

Importantly, the post-mark on this letter was the 9th of March.

So, I phoned them to set things right. Which put me through to an electronic switchboard, which neatly directed me to the same change-of-address system that I assumed was wrong the first time.

At this point I hung up, rang back, and steadfastly refused to press any keys. Eventually, the menu timed out and put me through to a real person. (Useful trick, that. I think I'll use it more often.)

Anyway, I explained the situation, gave my license number, and he looked it up. And, sure enough, my license was correctly registered at my new address, following the change-of-address logged on the 23rd.

So, despite the fact that I had updated my details in a timely fashion, despite the fact that their own database knew I had a valid license, they still sent me a threatening letter saying I didn't have a license, and they would be taking steps?

(Oh, and incidentally, this isn't the first time - exactly the same thing happened when I moved into my flat in Yeovil. The archives of this blog will confirm as such.)

---

In other news, my telephone still hasn't been renumbered, and my broadband connection still has not been enabled. I find I am totally unsurprised by these developments.

The trouble with haemodialysis

Apparently, le Welsh was quite excited by the thought that my post "The Trouble with HD" might be about haemodialysis, and rather disappointed to find it was actually about High Definition television. Although quite why I would post about such a thing is beyond me, but still... Anyway, not wanting to disappoint, here is my follow up.

The trouble with haemodialysis, at least from a blogging perspective, is that I don't really know quite what it is. Still, I do know the dialysis is something used for kidney failure, and that the kidneys are responsible for flushing toxins from our systems. Also, the prefix "haemo" implies blood, so I'll surmise that it's a process by which the blood is cleaned of toxins. Probably with an exciting machine that goes, "bing!" every so often.

A quick Google of the topic reveals that this surmise is broadly correct. Although wikipedia fails to indicate exactly what noise the exciting machine makes. I feel I shall have to investigate further.

It seems to me that the other fundamental problem with haemodialysis is that it actually does nothing to solve the problem. It does nothing to repair the failed kidney and so, fundamentally, is only of use to keep the patient alive until a replacement organ becomes available.

Clearly, what we need is some means to repair or replace a damaged kidney, preferably without being bound by the limited supply of donor organs. I can see three (maybe four) possible ways to do this:

• It might theoretically be possible to engineer some nanotech devices to enter a failed kidney, fix the damage, clear out the toxins, and therefore bring it back to health. (The possible fourth solution would be to do much the same thing with some application of stem cells. However, in reality I suspect neither the nanotech nor the stem cell solution would work in isolation. A combination of the two, perhaps...)
  
• We could perhaps construct a mechanical artifical kidney, in the same way we almost have a functional artifical heart. Essentially, this would be a very small-scale dialysis machine (probably without the exciting "bing!" sound, or whatever). It is likely that this would also be a short-term solution until a permanent solution could be developed, but it would probably be a step forward at least. I wouldn't be surprised to see this being the first solution implemented, and wouldn't be terribly surprised to see them in common usage by the end of the next decade.
  
• Finally, there exists the possibility of using stem cells to clone a new kidney from the patient's own tissues. This would dodge the issues of the shortage of donor organs, and remove the risk of organ rejection, both of which would be a good thing. And, as scientists seem to have found techniques to reprogram 'adult' stem cells to work like embrionic stem cells, the ethical concerns here need no longer apply, which is nice.
  

So, I think there is cause for hope. Of course, everything I have just written could be a load of utter tosh. Five minutes of research on Google while waiting for an email is hardly a substitute for actual expertise.

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #23: Chicken Korma

There was a Plan, and it was good. I would finish work, head home, make lunch for today, make dinner, eat dinner, and then head out to the band's committee meeting. I might even fit in watching an episode of "The Blackadder" in while eating dinner. That was the Plan.

Unfortunately, there was a small flaw in the Plan: "Simmer for 30 minutes". It turned out that I'm now past the 'quick' meals, and into some that are a tad more lengthy to prepare. I may need to rethink the whole notion of "Experimental Cookery Tuesday", perhaps moving it to a Friday or even the weekend.

Anyway, fortunately I spotted the fact that I wouldn't have time to complete the job before I reached the point of no return, and so was able to pause, head out to the meeting, and then return to finish the job. This meant that I didn't eat until 9, which was somewhat unfortunate, but couldn't really be helped.

So, anyway, how was the korma itself? Well, the truth is, korma isn't really my curry of choice. There's nothing wrong with it, as such, but it's all a bit bland. Fortunately, though, Jamie had thought of that, and added the inspired ingredient of a green chilli to proceedings.

In the end, the meal tasted exactly as I expected. This was at once very reassuring but also a little disappointing: what is the point of going to all that trouble if it tastes exactly the same as I would get with a jar of sauce and a 10-minute cooking job? (The answer to that is actually quite simple: there are significant health benefits of avoiding fried chicken, and using actual vegetables in the recipe in place of the stuff in the jar. Also, this made up five servings rather than the jar's 2, and having a freezer full of ready-made food is definately a good thing. Still...)

Anyway, all in all it was a winner. So, that would be 1-0 in "Easy Curries". Next up is "Vegetable Jalfrezi", which should be interesting. I'm particularly looking forward to the 45-minute simmer step.

(One other note: in addition to eight actual curries, this chapter includes instructions for five different rice variants and for vegetable bhajis. I won't be doing these separately, but will try them each at various times. Before I can tackle the rice, though, I'm going to have to get a finer collander, as uncooked rice just washes straight through the one I have!)

The trouble with HD

As you know, I watch a fair amount of TV, and a lot of movies at home. As a consequence of this, I am more than a little interested in the option of upgrading to High Definition. Until now, I have held off, out of the belief that the technology really wasn't ready. However, with the Blu-ray/HD-DVD format war over, with second and third generation players becoming available, and with Sky now offering a significant number of channels, we're just about getting to the point where HD represents a worthwhile step.

Recently, I had to visit my bank to inform them of my change of address, a visit that required a trip on the Subway. En route to the Subway, though, I realised I'd neglected to bring a book for the trip. And, not wanting to start yet another novel at the time, I decided instead to purchase a copy of Home Cinema Choice, and thus to catch up on the state of the art.

However, there is a problem with upgrading to HD:

In order to move to HD, I would need to upgrade my TV (obviously). I would also need to add a Blu-ray player (probably the Playstation 3, although apparently the sound output isn't great). However, I would also need to upgrade my DVD player to a multiregion upscaling model (for all those region 1 DVDs). And, as my A/V receiver doesn't do HDMI, that would need upgraded too. And, most likely, so too would my speakers need replaced.

But I didn't buy all this kit at once. Shortly after I first started working, I bought what was then a large-screen TV. Shortly thereafter, I invested in a DVD player (back before everyone had them). A PS2 was added on release say, and then several years later I completed the setup with an AV receiver and surround sound speakers. Each step along this path represented a significant step forward in terms of viewing experience.

With HD, a piecemeal upgrade like this wouldn't represent a step forward. Pairing an HD source with a standard definition TV is pointless. And pairing a standard definition source with a high definition TV may even represent a downward step, rather than an improvement.

The only upgrade that it would really make sense to make on its own is to get a Playstation 3... and that doesn't make too much sense since I don't actually play electronic games enough to justify the expense.

And so, it would be a matter of upgrading the whole thing in one fell swoop, or at least over the course of a handful of weeks. At a cost of some thousands of pounds. Essentially, it's of the same order of magnitude as buying a new car.

And therein lies the problem with HD. It's not so much the inherent cost of the items themselves, which would have to be divided across the decade of service I would expect to get from them, but rather that the money would have to be spent all at once.

Anyway, it's all academic for the moment. I'm fully expecting to have to buy a new car in June, which means I don't have the funds to spare. And anyway, with the economy as uncertain as it currently is, it simply wouldn't be wise to spend all that money on something so fundamentally unnecessary.

Still, it makes a nice topic to talk about, other than my endless complaints about not getting Sky, or the latest in my epic series on food...

Experimental Cookery Breakfast #5: Boiled Eggs

In Rob Grant's novel "Fat", there is a running gag about a cookery book which opens with a long and lovingly-detailed recipe for boiled eggs. It's really quite amusing. And so it was some measure of merriment that I tackled Jamie's recipe for the same. Yes, seriously.

The ingredients list for tackling this most complex of tasks was long and obscure, including such diverse items as eggs.

Anyway, I duly followed the instructions, producing two nice soft-boiled eggs. (No, I don't concern myself with salmonella. The latest studies suggest there isn't a link after all. And besides, they weren't that soft-boiled.) I also decided to go dangerously off-book and cooked up a slice of toast for soldiers. Truly I am a rebel.

Anyway, having cooked up the eggs, I found myself vexed by two issues. The first, and the lesser of the two was a complete lack of egg-cups. Since I don't eat eggs, I don't keep egg-cups in the apartment, since there is never a need for them. Um...

But, more challeging, I was faced by that most controversial of software engineering questions: little-endian or big? Now, I have made many enquiries into this matter, but in all my Travels I have not found a definitive answer. And let's not understate the importance of getting the right answer: wars have been fought over such things.

In the end, I settled for little-endian. I then proceeded to attack the egg with soldiers, then pepper, then knife and fork, until such time that I had eaten just enough to persuade myself that I had fulfilled my obligation to try the meal. And then I fed the rest to the bin.

Really not a fan of eggs.

So, that will be 4-1. He's not getting the mark for a recipe that is basically "boil it into submission, then chuck it in the bin", especially since I didn't like it.

Next up in the egg-odyssey is fried eggs. Then scrambled, poached, and then omlettes. It's like the fish-trilogy all over again.

Now, I'm sure there's some egg-themed pun that I could end the post with, but I don't know what it could be. Indeed, trying to bring it to mind has left me quite Dizzy.

Experimental Cookery Breakfast #4: Frozen Fruit Smoothies

Having purchased a liquidizer recently, I felt the time had come to tackle the next breakfast on the list. And so was born the first of many smoothies.

This one worked out fine, although I was uninspired by the frozen fruit part of the equation. As far as I could taste, it was mostly a banana smoothie.

Still, no matter. I rather enjoyed it, and will be having these again, in various permutations.

So, I'll give him the win on that one, since it looks like he's about to need the lead. Which, having checked back to the last breakfast, gives him a 4-0 lead. Still, a long way to go there, and next up is that most difficult of challenges: the boiled egg...

A weekend to forget

It started brightly enough. I finished the document I was working on, sent it out to the people who needed it, and left work. An exceptionally quick journey and I was home just after four.

On arriving home, I immediately put the first load of washing on (why wait?), then started making phone calls. These included some of the few remaining change-of-address calls, which are now all in hand. Unfortunately, time ran out before I was able to handle the "finding a new doctor" task, but that's not currently urgent (just annoying).

And then the calls to various service providers. First on my list is BT. Now, I had thought their task should be easy. When I moved in, the phone line was already connected, so all they should have had to do was renumber the line, no?

Apparently, no. Instead, they felt the need to first cancel the existing line. Then, they enabled a new line to the same address. (Why?) Of course, they did both of these at the same time, since they didn't want me to have any actual loss of service. And then, there was the renumbering of the new line to my old number. Which still isn't done, but which might be done by Wednesday, although I am skeptical.

Anyway, whatever the trials and tribulations that this all entails, I'm annoyed about two things. The first is their insistence on using an automated switchboard to "route my call to the right person". This isn't entirely unreasonable, except that the number of menu steps has gradually increased to an absurd depth, systems now mostly include several 'security' steps (that the eventual operator then repeats anyway), and at the end of the process you tend to get through to the wrong person anyway!

Also, it really shouldn't take two and a half weeks to reassign a number from one address to another. I don't care what lines they wish to spin, it's not that complex a job.

Still, that's all in hand. I'm sure they'll sort it out. Eventually.

Next in the firing line is Virgin, who still haven't sorted out my broadband connection. Now, in fairness, part of this is BT's fault, since connecting broadband on the line isn't going to be easy when BT are monkeying around with the line. Still, the absence of broadband is a major annoyance.

Anyway, having now determined exactly what was happening with broadband, I decided to call Virgin to get a status update. The only problem: I didn't have their number to hand. Not to worry though, since I had their confirmation email. Surely that would have a number at which to contact them?

Turns out it doesn't, but it did have a handy link to a webpage where I could fill in a nice form. Or an email address at which I could contact them. In order to ask why my internet connection wasn't working. Muppets.

So, I consulted that most archaic of tomes, the phone book, and got their number - and with no guys in moustaches helping me, either! One arcane and complex automated switchboard later, and I was through to a guy in their internet division.

Or so I thought, because it turns out they have two internet divisions, and I was through to the wrong one. Of course.

Anyway, he put me through to the right guy, who informed me that my installation date had been changed from the 26th of Feb to the 10th of March. Which explains why my internet wasn't working, although does leave the key question: why was I not informed?

The most annoying thing in all this, though, is not the delay itself, but rather the missed opportunity. I got broadband from Virgin initially because I was looking for a deal with no annual contract. Once there, though, I found the service to be faultless. Therefore, despite their being much cheaper options out there (notably Sky), I decided to stick with them. And now they have utterly messed up the service part.

So, on hanging up, I reflected that I should really have gone with Sky. Except...

The rest of Friday night passed without incident. Of any sort. Thrilling, it was. I did complete the washing, but other than that, nothing. Still, I went to bed secure in the knowledge that the Sky Guy was coming on Saturday to hook up the system. And now that I had loft access, it should all be completed as planned.

Oh, such foolish optimism!

Saturday morning rolled around, and the Sky Guy duly arrived. And he wandered around, weighed things up, and declared that he didn't think he could do it, as his ladders were too short. At this point I asked if he didn't want to at least look at the loft access, which had after all been the excuse last time. So, up he went.

And when he came down there was good news and bad news. The good news was that he could see exactly how the job should be done, and that it would be pretty easy. The bad news: the job required a dry roof, and was simply not something they would even attempt in the wet.

The worse news: Sky don't do flexible appointments. So, I can't request an appointment for "the first dry day", but rather have to fix an appointment, and if it's not dry then I have to rebook another fixed appointment. With an average delay of 9 days between each such appointment. (Fortunately, it hardly ever rains in Scotland, so I'm sure it'll all get done next time.)

I phoned to complain about this, of course. And was met with an automated switchboard that very neatly lacks any sort of 'customer complaints' option.

(Later, I did wonder at the "our ladders are too short" comment, and wondered if they had sent out the wrong team for the job. So, I called today to confirm that it was the required Special Heights Team that would be coming next time. But, yes, it turns out that that was and is the case. Which raises the next question: what is the point of a Special Heights Team if they are equipped with ladders that are insufficient for them to actually do any work at special heights?)

Anyway, I swallowed my lingering annoyance with Virgin at this point, and investigated their digital TV offering. Perhaps that would be a better option? Sadly, this was not the case, as although they have dozens of channels, they are mostly notable for lacking all the movies and sports channels. Effectively, it would mean dropping about half of the channels that I actually watch. That being the case, if Sky prove to be unable to install the system at the next time of asking, I think I'll just drop all the way back to Freeview.

Anyway, the very best thing about all this was that, in order to be in to meet the Sky Guy, I had of course had to cancel all my plans for Saturday. And so, by lunchtime I found myself at a loose end, and without either broadband or TV to assist in the wasting of time.

So, I headed over to my parents' to use their broadband to investigate Virgin's digital TV, independent satellite dish installers, and dining furniture stockists, and also to update my antivirus software (not strictly necessary, but I like to be up-to-date). In the event, I found myself watching "Mighty Mouse" with my nephew. It hasn't much changed since young Captain Ric was that same age.

There's more, but I'm not going to blog about that. Suffice to say, I found Sunday evening particularly wearing as well. Suffice to say, I was really glad when Monday morning finally arrived.

#11: "Starships of the Galaxy" by Gary Astleford, Owen K.C. Stephens and Rodney Thompson
#12: "Pathfinder: Descent into Midnight" by Brian Cortijo

Sweet

It turns out that I have one extra day of holiday allowance than I thought I did. This means that I not only have one extra day to take between now and the end of April, but I'll also have one extra day to take next year, and each subsequent year going forwards.

This is quite nice.

Don't get me wrong - I do enjoy my job. However, more holidays is always nice, and so I'm not going to complain.

Steph/ven Ventures into the Lost Realm

After moving into the new apartment, I put together two lists of things to get. The first of these, the "must have" list, was extremely short, consisting as it did of several pieces of bedding, and a replacement light switch. The second list was rather longer, being "nice to have" items such as more bookshelves, a dining table and chairs, and so forth. (The dining table is a "nice to have" because I have a perfectly functional couch in front of the TV at which I can eat, or I could just eat over the sink.)

And so it was that, list in hand, I ventured to the Lost Realm of Ikea, intent on purchasing certain items. Little did I know that I would only narrowly escape with my life and my sanity intact.

Even finding the Lost Realm was to prove a challenge, for I could not make use of Mr Gore's remarkable invention to guide me. Instead, I had to rely on the guidance of a reclusive holy man. This guidance was to take me to Braehead, but once there I would be forced to hope for a sign. And, indeed, a sign there was - three in fact. One read "Braehead West", one "Braehead Centre", and the third "Braehead East". Useful.

There then followed an adventure in consulting an ancient and unreliable map, a journey down some uncharted paths, another mystical sign, and finally the blue walls of the Lost Realm came into sight behind a wall of thick vegetation. I had arrived!

Having parked the car, I proceeded inside the store. I took with me a map and compass, my trusty fedora, and bullwhip. (Note: I may or may not have been carrying some or any of these.) And, on gaining the entrance, I stood enraptured at the wonders that lay therein. Truly, it was a wonder to behold.

My initial explorations were promising. I quickly made the aquaintance of Chris' friends: Billy, Benno and, er, Malm. And the floors were marked with deep channels, carved by the footsteps of thousands of people in ancient times, showing which way one should proceed through the Lost Realm.

But others had clearly not been so fortunate. At one point, I dared to leave the path, in order to examine the range of dining tables, and as the noise of the crowd faded, it was replaced by a feeling of encroaching dread. So deep was the labyrinth that I wondered how a man could not get lost, and I began to see the simple tools and other signs of the primitive people who once made this place their home.

And then I heard the voices. Softly at first, and then with greater volume, they spoke in whispers of purest malice. "Big chap... big chap..." I froze, hoping that like a T-Rex in a bad film they would hunt with vision dependent on movement, and for a moment it seemed I was safe. The chants drifted off, and the sounds of the jungle gradually resumed.

And then, in the gloom, I made out shuffling movement, and a creature emerged.

It might have been a man, once, but by his shuffling gait I gathered this was no son of civilisation. He was clad in a garment of brightest blue, emblazoned with the marks of his tribe, proudest amongst them a declaration of advertising for a well-known drinks firm. And in his fist he clutched a bottle containing a foul and stinking potion. And, as he shuffled along, his eyes chanced to meet mine, and lit with a foul intelligence.

"Big chap!" he exclaimed.

I fled.

I don't know how I survived this encounter, but I soon found myself back on the path, shaken but intact. Passersby shook their heads with a knowing sadness as they saw me, and some helpful souls gestured towards a sign that hung proud, "Don't Leave the Path!"

As for the creature, I can only surmise to its origin. Perhaps, in days of yore, a family had become lost in the Lost Realm. There, somehow, the parents perhaps became separated from their young, who were left to fend for themselves. And so, as the years past, the Lost Realm came to be populated with NEDlings. But how many of them could there be? And are they only one homogenous tribe, or is there perhaps another, locked in a brutal and unending conflict with the first? I hope never to find out.

---

Okay, so that never actually happened. However, I actually did find my travels through Ikea to be oddly unsettling. I'm not sure if it was the omnipresent "new furniture" smell, or perhaps paralysis by options. Alternately, it might be that the place was filled with people, all looking to buy exactly the same stuff for their 'personalised' homes. Because although Ikea has a lot of stuff, it must also cover a lot of ground, and so only has a few options in each area - a fact brought home to me quite firmly when I narrowed my search for bookshelves down to a single item, and "antique effect" set of shelves that was in every way identical to an item owned by the A&A team.

Or perhaps it was the pictures. See, I have considered that my new apartment could do with some nice pictures to break up the plainness of the walls. And, to that end, I have been pointed to some websites that might help. (Or, perhaps, I shall replace my policy of bring a mug home from each of my many travels with one of bringing home a nice picture. That might work quite well.)

What I didn't expect, although perhaps I should have, is that Ikea sell pictures of various sizes. And, indeed, they sell one that I saw in one of the other apartments I viewed. It is a nice picture, but it just somehow seems wrong to be one of several thousand people in the country to personalise my home with an identical picture purchased from Ikea.

In the end, I didn't buy anything from the Lost Realm. The range of dining tables was fairly limited, and none of the options really fit. Unfortunately, as this is pretty much the last piece in the jigsaw, I'm going to have to make sure I get just the right item to match everything else, which is likely to take a while.

As for bookshelves, I discovered that the Laminated Book of Dreams had not discontinued the shelves I already had, and so was able to invest in a new, identical unit to the one that I had. Or so I thought, because it turns out that the extra-deep Beech effect shelves they now stock are a slightly different colour and a slightly different (and worse) design from the ones they stocked four years ago. Still, I have a cunning plan...

And so, there it is, my adventure in the Lost Realm of Ikea.

The Clown Rule

At the last competition of last season, my band kilt was rather on the tight side. Six months and -40 pounds later, it's rather on the loose side.

At times like this, it has been pointed out that the 'clown rule' applies: that it is liberating the first time your trousers fall down. However, I suspect this may not be true of a Scotsman in a kilt. I have a certain mystique to maintain, after all.

(Fortunately, my own kilt fits rather better. It was tailored specifically to me, and although it is now looser than it was, it can still be tightened.)

#10: "The Lords of the North" by Bernard Cornwell

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #22: Super-Quick Salmon Stir-fry

On Sunday, we found ourselves discussing Experimental Cookery Tuesday, and in particular the madness that is my cooking a salmon stir-fry when I hate fish. My thinking on this is really quite simple: in the absolute worst-case, whatever I find myself cooking will be at least edible, if rather unpleasant. And, in the best case, I might find something I actually really like. So, there's not really much of a risk for a decent gain.

Besides, I find it extremely easy to fall into patterns and routines. Indeed, Experimental Cookery Tuesday itself stands as a testament to this very trait. That being the case, it would be easy for me to identify six foods that I really like, and to simply cook them in turn each week. It also sounds a bit dull. However, since my life is not really where I want it to be (probably a good thing, that), there is a need to constantly challenge, to push against boundaries, and to try new things. And so, just as I didn't shrink from abseiling despite a now-vanquished fear of heights, so too shall I risk the fish.

I'm not really sure what it is about this meal that makes it 'super-quick'. As far as I could tell, it took about as long to prepare and to cook as did the prawns or the beef last week. Still, it was pretty easy to put together.

And, yes, it was another winner. I'm not yet ready to remove salmon from the list of food nemeses, but this was pretty good.

And so, the "Tasty Stir-Fries" chapter comes to an end, and Jamie has won this bout 5-0. The highlight of the chapter is the sweet & sour pork, but just barely. Both the chicken chow mein and the beef were also excellent. The weakest entry was the prawn stir-fry.

Next week, I will start in on the "Easy Curries" chapter, which begins with a chicken korma.

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #21: Sizzling Beef with Spring Onions and Black Bean Sauce

The penultimate stir-fry in the chapter was another quick and easy one to cook, and again turned out extremely well. In fact, prepared by my experiences the previous day with the prawns, I took the step of reading the whole recipe before applying heat, and so was able to avoid ending up with a charred mess.

Long story short, this one was a big winner. I was particularly impressed with the fried rice, which managed to incorporate the dread egg without issue.

That would be 4-0, then, with one to go. Could he win this chapter with a whitewash?

Next up is "Super Quick Salmon Stir-Fry" (or something to that effect - I don't have the book to hand).

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #20: Hardly-any-prep Prawn Stir-Fry

After some consideration, I have decided to remove prawns from the list of food nemeses. They're okay, I suppose.

Anyway, this meal was very quick and easy to prepare, but it didn't quite work out as intended. The problem was mine, rather than being inherent to either the book or to the recipe itself, though. The food cooks incredibly quickly, and even moreso now that I'm cooking on gas once again, and I hadn't memorised the steps before I began. As a consequence of this, the food came out burnt - in the time it took me to consult on the next step, the damage was already done.

Despite that setback, it still somehow came out tasting okay. Consequently, we'll have to call that 3-0 on stir-fries. With only two more to go, this puts young Jamie in an unassailable position on that chapter.

Next up is a beef and spring onion stir fry with black bean sauce.

500th post

It is something of a shock to think that in a mere three and a half years I have amassed a total of 500 posts, but here we are. That's a little under one post every other day.

Anyway, in the past, on reaching a multiple of 100 posts I have blogged about some celebrity nonsense or other. And so, with the 500th post coming up, I pondered what I should write about.

Initially, I considered blogging about the silliness that is Jessica Simpson planning to do a range of clothes for 'the larger lady', when her sole qualification for this role is that she no longer has visible ribs. However, that was weeks ago, and I hadn't reached the landmark.

Then I considered commenting on the media circus that is surrounding the last days of Jade, engineered by her 'friend' and publicist. However, I decided that I don't really have anything appropriate to say to that situation, so instead I'll appropriately say nothing.

Which leaves me instead blogging about how I'm not going to blog about things. Which puts this post neatly in line with the rest of this blog, no?

Oh, also, forgot last time:

#9 "Star Wars Roleplaying Game Saga Edition Core Rulebook" by Bill Slavicsek, Andy Collins and JD Wiker

Much-belated edit: No it wasn't! This is post 499!

Well, I'm back

The move to the new apartment went extremely smoothly. Indeed, we picked up the hire van just after 8 in the morning, and had returned it by 3 in the afternoon, job done. There then followed several days of moving things around, getting and assembling furniture, and taking of things out of boxes.

The new apartment is a massive step up, and not merely because it is up two flights rather than just one (ho ho). In addition to being bigger and just plain nicer than the previous apartment, it is also actually possible to maintain a reasonable level of warmth, even without running the heating near-constantly.

(On the plus side regarding the previous apartment, I did get back my security deposit. This was a double surprise, both in that I got it back at all, which I didn't really expect, and that I got it back quite so quickly.)

Naturally, not everything went as smoothly. The Sky guy came, weighed up the situation, and decided he couldn't install the dish at the time. The rescheduled visit is not until Saturday. And, of course, my broadband connection hasn't been set up correctly. Both these problems seem depressingly familiar.

Still, I'm sure these will get sorted out in the near future. I'll blog some more soon, as time permits, including such delights as my adventure in Ikea, a musing on chapters, and not one but two Experimental Cookery Tuesdays.

Curtains for our hero...

Well, I have just picked up the keys to my new secret lair, and been over to visit it. It's quite nice.

As an added bonus, I found that the previous owner has left behind the various curtains in the apartment. This was unexpected, but represents a fairly large boon, as it obviously means I don't need to go and spend money on that. Score one for the good guys.

Although, it's going to be strange having curtains once again. I wonder if I'll remember how they work?

As another added bonus, the previous owner also left behind not one but two wardrobes in the two bedrooms that had been in use. What's more, these aren't big MANsize wardrobes, like any sane person would have, but rather gargantuan WOMANsize wardrobes, fit for the truly insane. I'm entirely convinced there may be fantasy worlds hiding in one of both of these, although I may have to invest in some fur coats in order to access these lands. (Fantasy worlds are hidden in wardrobes behind the fur coats, you see.)

So, score two for the good guys. Also, the Pink Room is now the Purple room, so I won't even have to repaint that! All in all, it's going quite well.

Experimental Cookery Tuesday - not this week

I'm not doing an "Experimental Cookery Tuesday" this week. The next thing on the list requires a significant number of ingredients, many of which I don't have in stock. I'm also in the process of running down my food stocks in preparation for moving (which will require switching off the fridge/freezer for at least 24 hours). Therefore, I have decided not to invest in the necessary ingredients.

At the moment, my plan is to catch up next week, probably on both Monday and Tuesday.

Return of the Blue Screen of Death

Hooray for Microsoft! In the last week, they have issued a 'critical update' for Windows that has finally restored a long-forgotten feature of the system.

Yes, for the first time since moving to Windows XP, I have finally started seeing the Blue Screen of Death. No more will I have to worry that I might get through the day without losing vital work due to a system crash! No more will I be at risk of my system being boringly reliable!

Hurrah and huzzah!

Now, if only I can hit "Publish" before it happens again...

#8: "The Orc King" by R.A. Salvatore

Contacting me

As you know, I will be moving home in just over a week. This leads to the question: how will you contact me?

Well, here is the answer:

By phone:

It appears likely that my telephone number will actually remain unchanged. This is yet to be confirmed.

However, I'm also now leaning towards the notion of essentially getting rid of a home phone, and instead switching to my mobile by preference. So, if you want to call me, that's the better option. (If nothing else, I always have my mobile with me, but rarely take my home phone to work.)

By email:

My email address will be remaining unchanged for the time being. I am considering switching to an address that is not tied to a particular provider (GMail or Hotmail), with a view to then being much more mercenary in dealing with providers, but I have not done so yet.

If you are one of the handful of people who are used to contacting me by Hotmail, and are therefore confused by the last paragraph, I shall note that a long time ago, when first setting up my other blog, it was recommended that I should get a 'throwaway' account for trapping spam. Hence was born that Hotmail address. Over time, I have started to use it for more than that, although it still isn't my main address (it is named after a character in a Vampire: the Masquerade campaign I ran, which makes it fairly unique, but not really suitable for 'real-world' use where I sometimes have to email landlords, prospective employers, and so forth).

By post:

Don't use my current address for anything new that you send! If you want my new postal address, text me some time after next week. Alternately, anything that you send to my parents' home address will find its way to me eventually.

Finally:

If you're reading this and saying, "but I don't know what your phone/email/address is!", then I have some bad news. You won't be able to contact me using these methods! If and when we meet, though, feel free to demand the answers from me. Of course, I might lie...

It's Soooo Cold!

I received my gas bill yesterday, thankfully the last at my current apartment. And, once again, it was absurdly high. And yet, the meter readings they had estimated were not outlandishly wrong - the heating of the apartment had simply consumed a lot of gas.

Except, when I say 'heating' I probably exaggerate the situation somewhat. Quite a lot actually. Because even with my having reprogrammed the boiler so that they heating is actually switched on when I need it, and even with the heating turned up almost to full, and with running electric space heaters as well at key times (on a timer circuit that for some reason insists on making an infernal high-speed ticking sound all through the night) the apartment is still freezing.

On the plus side, the estimate I have had for providing gas and electric for my new apartment is consequently several hundred pounds a year cheaper, desite the new apartment being significantly bigger. In fact, I believe the estimated cost for both utilities in the new apartment is actually considerably lower than gas alone has been costing in the current place.

I think it's fair to say that there is something wrong with the heating in my current apartment. And it's certainly yet another really good reason to look forward to the move. (Although, I didn't really think 'being warm' should have been one of the selling points!)

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #19: My Sweet & Sour Pork

I'm not a big fan of pork. It's not one of my food nemeses, but it's also something I don't seek out, as a rule. I generally find it quite a fatty and unpleasant meat to eat. Therefore, I had some doubts about this meal. And, indeed, I noted in my previous post in this series that my even attempting this dish was contingent on me finding some really good quality meat to use.

Well, this dish was a revelation. It was very different from any sweet & sour dishes I've had before, firstly for not being a nuclear orange colour, and secondly for actually having some heat to it. Quite a bit of heat, really.

But it was good. Very, very good. I will definately have this again.

So, this would be 2-0 for Mr Oliver in the "Tasty Stir Fries" chapter of his book. He needs only one more to put this round beyond doubt. And the next one might just do it: "Hardly-any-Prep Prawn Stir-Fry". (Or it might not; it is fish, after all.)

Also, a big downside of all this fancy cooking nonsense: the washing up is a pain.

No Snow Day for Steph/ven

It started snowing just after 3 yesterday afternoon, and got progressively heavier as the night went on. After "Lost", I looked out the window and saw it was still snowing, which led me to think that maybe, just maybe, I might be snowed in.

Snow Day!

Except that I looked out the window again at 11:30, just before heading to bed, and the snow had stopped. And, when I woke up this morning it appeared that it had not snowed further, and so the roads were passable with care. (In fact, only my own street even particularly required the "with care" part. The rest were all clear.

No Snow Day! Boo!

Which is a shame, really, since I had it all planned out. See, the thing about Snow Days is that you can't schedule them, which means you have to arrange you time as though they aren't coming. So, if you do get one, it's bonus time.

Naturally, therefore, Snow Days must always only be used in the most frivolous of pursuits. To spend the day doing laundry, or marking textbooks, or preparing for a test would be to make a mockery of this most precious gift.

And so, the plan was to spend the morning catching up on the latest TV, followed by a couple of hours of light reading. Lunch would have been toasted cheese, for no other reason than I could. Then, in the afternoon, I would have sought out a snowball fight somewhere in the region. And, as the opportunity allowed, I would have built a snow fort, complete with ramparts and crenelations. Afterwards, I would have retired to my apartment for a dinner consisting of pizza and Irn Bru, followed by an evening of "Stargate: Atlantis", assuming band was cancelled.

Instead, here I am at work. Which is fun too.

#7: "Diamonds Are Forever" by Ian Fleming

100 things

It has been rather a slow day. Therefore, I have taken a list of 100 things to do from Kezzie's blog. I'm sure you'll agree that it's truly thrilling...

1. Started your own blog (Obviously)
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity (I did once give £1,000 to charity, but that wasn't more than I could afford.)
7. Been to Disneyland (Paris)
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo (see 41)

11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child (Not sure having this here isn't offensive - adopting a child isn't really something one should do just to tick a box in a "things to do before you die" list.)
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France (why have this and #12?)
20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors (England was such a trek...)
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke (... really badly)
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person (why have this and #81?)
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris (why have this and #12?)

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie (something I made was in a movie once - does that count?)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class.
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies (not really likely to, to be honest)
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy (but I did buy a new Optimus Prime toy when it was rereleased a few years ago)
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job (laid off, but never fired)
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car (Why would anyone do this? Drive it off the forecourt... drop a third of the value.)
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible (yes, even Numbers)
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous (The Queen!)
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby (not really likely to, either)
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a mobile phone
99. Been stung by a bee (Wasps many times, but a bee? Don't think so)
100. Read an entire book in one day

It's a bit of an American list, though, isn't it? I mean, I'm not aware of too many drive-ins in Europe, and both the Girl Scout cookies and the Quilting seem to be peculiarly American things. And then there are all the places to visit: 4, 17, 33, 35, 42, 70, 73, 74, 79, 86, 95 and 96 are all in the US or Canada. That's more than all the trips to the rest of the world put together!

And #23 is a very different proposition in the US (very few vacation days plus a fixed number of 'sick days') than it is in the UK (adequate vacation days and an unbounded number of 'sick days').

Anyway, having gone through the list, I'm not planning on going out of my way to fill any more of it in. Some of them I don't find at all appealing, some would require some considerable expense, and some require opportunity, and therefore can't actually be sought out.

Updates

The cold I caught on the 2nd of January, and therefore threw off by the 23rd (three weeks later) unfortunately came roaring back. I don't know why this is - it has broken both the "two colds a year" and "three weeks only" rules. My best guess is that it's a second strain, which took advantage of the relative weakness caused by the first cold to slip in. If this is right, I should be back to full fitness by the 13th of this month.

Unfortunately, progress with the diet seems to have slowed to a crawl, possibly as a consequence of the cold, or perhaps simply because it becomes increasingly difficult to progress as one nears the goal. As of this morning, there are eighteen pounds to go. This takes me past my mini-goal at fourteen and a half stone, and puts me within striking distance of my mini-goal at 200 pounds. Perhaps more important: I weighed fourteen and a half stone when I left university ten years ago and, barring one brief spell in 2005, I haven't been under that threshold since. If the current rate continues (doubtful), I should hit my target weight some time in May.

A week ago on Friday, I decided to try to stop biting my nails, this being the last of my bad habits. Unfortunately, this has proven to be a very difficult one to break, not least since most of the time I'm not even aware that I'm doing it. Apparently, it takes six weeks to break a habit. I managed eight days.

The goal of reading 52 books in the year remains on target. At the moment, I'm just over a third of the way through "Diamonds are Forever".

The band continues to progress. We're now at a point where we're consistently playing our competition tunes better than we did at any point last year. There's still of lot of work required, but at this stage I think the biggest problem the band is going to face is one of confidence when we get onto the competition field. This is probably the point where something goes horribly wrong...

My Star Wars campaign got off to a great start at the weekend. More on this later.

Saw "Yes Man" in the cinema yesterday. Annoyingly, we arrived ten minutes late, and they started the film a mere eight minutes late. Seriously, if they're not going to be consistent in their lateness, how are we to plan our days? Anyway, it is a good film, although not Jim Carrey's best ("Dumb & Dumber" holds that position, and most likely always will. I'm also partial to "Liar Liar", "Bruce Almighty" and, of course, "The Mask"). There may be more on this later, also.

I have been watching "Stargate: Atlantis" a great deal recently, having borrowed the DVDs from a friend. It is a good show, although I can't help but worry that they're exhausted every possible storyline in the Stargate universe.

The last few episodes of "Battlestar Galactica" have been fantastic, and I'm definately enjoying "24" this year (although I don't like the president they've got this year). "Lost" is back, but is a horribly muddled mess - but with 30 episodes to go, I've reached a point where I'm going to see it through to the end.

And I think that's just about everything.

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #18: Chicken Chow Mein

As I said last week, this is a classic dish. And it was a good one, too.

I was a little concerned about this one, for two reasons. The first was that finding the ingredients proved to be something of an ordeal, with them being hidden in Tesco. In the end, I had to make a couple of creative substitutions that might have impacted on the meal. (That said, I don't think the ingredients here are really fixed - stir fries seem to work reasonably well with substitutions.) The second was that Graeme was popping round for a visit, and would partake of Experimental Cookery Tuesday - what if this was the week of the dread food poisoning?

Well, no need to worry on that account. It all went swimmingly, the meal was fantastic, and everyone survived. Indeed, this chow mein was actually better than the one I get from the Cantonese takeaway I sometimes visit.

Anyway, that's 1-0 to Jamie in the "Tasty Stir Fries" chapter. Next up is "My Sweet and Sour Pork", assuming I can get some pork of appropriate quality at Tesco next week. (I've found that pork dishes really vary a lot depending on the quality of the meat, so will have to make sure I get the good stuff.)

Today's Lesson...

Extremely intelligent people are not immune from making mistakes. Indeed, although they might arguably make fewer mistakes than others, the mistakes that they do make are often subtler, with more wide-ranging consequences, and generally more awful than the mistakes other people might make.

In other news, 2009 has not been a good year so far.

It is finished!

I have just finished "Twenty Years After", which I started some time back in November. Blimey, it isn't half an epic book!

To be honest, I'm at something of a loss as to whether it's a really good book, or a really bad one. It's too damn long, for one thing (as I mentioned before, Dumas was paid by the word, and it really shows). And it takes far too long to get going - there is a section of about 200 pages at the start that is just D'Argtanian travelling around to see his three friends, one after another. It frankly seems interminable.

But around half way through (400 pages in!) there's a scene where the four musketeers are finally all together in one place and suddenly it's a different book entirely. Suddenly the plot starts to move, the whole thing lightens up, and it becomes really quite exciting.

And, for all that it's an action novel, albeit a really long one, the book also fits in some marvellous courtly intrigue, with factions, wheels within wheels, and all sorts of scheming. I like this.

I guess, at length, I can't recommend the book. It's not the worst book ever, nor even the longest ("Wizard's First Rule" by Terry Goodkind comes close on both counts), but it's just not a patch on "The Three Musketeers". Still, despite this, I'm inclined to read on into "The Viscount of Bragelonne", or perhaps try "The Count of Monte Cristo" by the same author.

But not right away!

#6: "Twenty Years After", by Alexandre Dumas

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #17: Cherry Tomato Sauce with Cheat's Fresh Pasta

And so, we come to the end of the "Quick Pasta" chapter, and it ends how it starts: with a tomato sauce. This was another fine meal, and very simple to cook. Curiously, the pasta dishes that are based around tomatoes don't seem to suffer from the lack of meat the way that the others do.

Anyway, this brings the score to 4-3 against for the "Quick Pasta" chapter. The winner was "Classic Tomato Spahgetti", while the clear loser was "Pasta al Pangrattato".

The next chapter is "Tasty Stir-fries", which on the face of it should be a winner. (That said, the same was true of "Quick Pasta".) The first dish to try is "Chicken Chow Mein", which is obviously a classic.

Incidentally: my fish count for the year currently stands at 4. In addition to the anchovies (bleagh!) I had in the Pasta al Pangrattato, I also had tuna sandwiches for lunch three days last week. I'm still not a fan of tuna, but it was a reasonable substitute for the meat/salad sandwiches I've been having for the past five months.

Also, a new policy

That package I had to pick up from the Post Office was from Amazon, containing four more books for my big pile, two of which I intend to read by the end of February (along with "Twenty Years After" and the next volume of "Pathfinder").

Just before Christmas, I visited Borders and picked up a couple of books. While there, I was given a voucher for my next visit, entitling me to 15% of my purchases. Fantastic, I thought.

However, when ordering from Amazon, I found that they had a 20%+ discount on just about everything in their stock, and had that permanently, without the need for a voucher. Since I very rarely need to buy a book for immediate reading, it's pretty clear where my business will be going in future. (It's unfortunate, since I do quite like visiting bricks-and-mortar bookstores. But I'm not willing to pay £8 for a paperback, on average, for the privilege.)

And, of course, that's about par for the course when ordering online. Things are just routinely cheaper, and at least as good. And so, my new policy, motivated purely by financial reasons: I shall no longer visit stores, and instead purchase online. Four exceptions: 1) My weekly shop will still be in a 'real' store. I buy quite a lot of fresh fruit and veg, and am unconvinced that they will do as good a job of selecting them. 2) Game books will still be bought from my Friendly Local Game Store (FLGS). That's one store I really don't want to see go, and am willing to pay a premium to that end. (If he does close anyway, then it's the internet for me.) 3) If I'm buying something that does require specialist advice, and I can't get that advice online (perhaps because there's an intersection between the specialist and personal taste, as with beds), then it will need to be a 'real' store. 4) On those rare occasions when I'm buying clothes, that will still be done in a 'real' store. Again, this is an area where I like to see exactly what I'm getting in advance.

Oh, and note: the policy is that I won't visit stores, not merely that I won't buy things there. Partly because I don't want to waste their time, but mostly to avoid impulse-buys.

A tale of two salesmen

In some ways, the timing of my impending house move is absolutely ideal - it's just far enough past Christmas to be a nice time to be taking a break from work anyway, my letter's insurance expires at just the same time as my new home/contents insurance kicks in, and I'm sure there are other reasons. However, in some other key ways, it's not so good. Specifically, it comes just after the January sales gradually come to an end (since most of those have finished by the end of February, at least), and it's quite tricky buying furniture when you haven't yet fully weighed up the use to which each room will be put. Still, there is one thing I knew I would be upgrading as soon as I moved, and that is now done: I have just bought a new bed.

My previous bed-buying experience was less than successful. Yeovil is not a town well-stocked with appropriate stores, and the sales staff at those stores I did visit were less than helpful. In fact, at the first store visited, I waited for some twenty minutes for a sales assistant who never quite showed up, before losing patience and going elsewhere. I wouldn't have waited so long, but buying a bed was one of the non-negotiable aspects of the move.

Unfortunately, partly as a consequence of the failure of sales staff in Yeovil, and partly because it simply never occurred to me to do otherwise, I bought entirely the wrong bed for a rather larger price than I should have paid. It's fair to say this was not a shining moment in my story. (The problems? Well, it's too small - I should never have gone for a single. It's not very comfortable, partly due to the constant fear of falling out, partly due to the mattress. And it's rather low quality, which means that a mattress that should have lasted ten years is already suffering.)

And so it was that, very soon after realising my mistake, I made myself the promise that as soon as I moved to my 'permanent' home, I would invest in a new bed. I would wait until then so that I could be sure just how much space was available, but once the move was made... I then somehow ended up renting my current appartment for two and a half years longer than was planned, but never mind.

Anyway, yesterday I was driving en route to the party I was attending and my path happened to take me past a bed specialist that I didn't even know existed in Falkirk. What's more, they had a big sign out front stating that their sale ends on Monday. This rather settled my agenda for today.

However, Dreams was not my first stop. That honour fell to Bensons for Beds, purely because I had a parcel to pick up from the Post Office, and Bensons happened to be very close. Now, Bensons were the store that so disappointed me in Yeovil, a store that I had decided at the time I would never enter again. But then, so much else was a disappointment about Yeovil, perhaps it wasn't Bensons as such that was the problem?

And so, I went in armed with my research, and a bunch of questions that needed resolved. I also went in prepared to walk away quite quickly if things didn't go a whole lot better than was my previous experience.

Fortunately, they did. Whether because the people of Falkirk are just friendlier than their Yeovil counterparts, or because the economy has forced it upon them, I was approached almost immediately by a salesman, Paul, who quickly and efficiently got down to business, without being pushy about it.

So, we set about answering the questions. What style of bed did I want? Well, that was actually an easy one, since I already knew I was leaning towards a divan. What I hadn't quite weighed up was whether I needed integrated storage or not. My gut feeling was that it would be a benefit, but given the extra cost it turned out to be a nice-to-have that I would do without.

What size? I had, in fact, already ruled out both a single and a double. My research had turned up an interesting factoid, which is that these are 75 inches in length. As I am myself six feet tall (actually, 71 and a half inches), and since the use of space is never perfectly efficient, this means that my feet would often be hanging in empty space. It's not good. (Lying diagonally across a double works, but has other logistical problems.)

Which meant the choice came down to two: the King size or the Super-King. Now, much of the advice I'd read on the subject was aligned: get the biggest bed you can afford. But at the same time, there's just me, and frankly the Super-King strikes me as another instance of this over-consumption that we've imported from America. Frankly, it's just not necessary. Still...

That was quickly settled by seeing the two together in the shop. It turns out the Super-King is a monster, and would just be a waste of space (and money).

And then there were mattresses. What filling? How firm? This one required a bit of trial and error, but quickly reached an ideal solution. An ideal bed was picked out, costs were discussed and tallied (at some length - oddly, Paul kept checking things based on a double where I kept specifying King size, and kept talking to me about 0% finance, where I was quite clear that I'd be wanting to pay it off on delivery anyway). Oh well, never mind.

It all seemed good. I thanked him for his time, said I'd think about it, and left. While leaving the car park, I almost turned around and went back in to buy then and there.

Instead, I headed over to Dreams. Where I was met very quickly by Brian, their sales rep. And this time, the process of finding the ideal bed went much more smoothly. The trip to Bensons had provided the answers to the various questions I had, which meant most of the back-and-forth could be eliminated. And the Bensons price set a rather neat budget for the purchase - they had to provide a bed that was as good or better for a price that was no more than the Bensons price.

Anyway, it turned out Brian was a genuine expert on all things bed and sleep related. Once I explained what I was looking for, and also how that came about, he was quickly able to point out three solid beds, the second of which proved to be ideal. And he also had me try out a number of different pillows. It turns out I should have gone there years ago, since pillows are not all alike. Who knew?

Anyway, we talked things through, and a price was set. It turns out Dreams is much cheaper than Bensons. Basically, the bed I was looking at in Bensons, plus delivery, came to £600 even. The bed from Dreams, plus headboard, plus pillows, plus delivery, came to £624. (Which works out at about 17 pence per night.) Oh, and he threw in their extended 10-year guarantee for free, which surprised me a great deal, since I'd been all prepared for the hard sell on that one. Score one for the awful economy, I guess.

And so, four weeks on Monday I will have a new bed. Huzzah! And, added bonus, in the meantime I get to enjoy my exciting new pillow immediately. Huzzah again!

(I do feel a little guilty over Paul, though. He spent a fair amount of time helping me out, and ended up helping his competition win a sale. And he really did a good job, and knew his stuff very well indeed. Still, it wasn't as if I went in there intending not to make a purchase, and they were beaten quite handily on price. So, I guess that's all fair. I think I'll call that even - Bensons has now been redeemed from their failure in Yeovil.)

#5: "Pathfinder: A Memory of Darkness" by J.D. Wiker

Farewell, George W. Bush

I felt it needed to be said.

Here's hoping things start to improve - we need some good news right about now.

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #16: Mini Shell Pasta with a Creamy Smoked Bacon and Pea Sauce

I must admit, I had been losing faith. With all but two of the pasta dishes cooked, I had found several that were okay but bland, one that was really nasty, and only one that was really good. I was even rethinking my plan of working through the whole book in order.

Fortunately, tonight's effort was really good. As I had thought, the previous dishes were lacking specifically in meat, and so the addition of bacon to this one resolved the problem. The only slight glitch was that the sauce was a bit on the runny side, but that was caused by the permafrost on the peas (note to self: defrost them before use next time). In any case, it was not a disaster.

So, that would be 4-2 against for the chapter, with one to go. If that one works out, it will be only a very narrow defeat. Here's hoping.

Next week, we have "Cherry Tomato Sauce with Cheat's Fresh Pasta". Should be good.

Experimental Cookery Breakfast #3: One-Cup Pancakes, Tropical Yoghurt and Mango

This one had some teething problems. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but the batter ended up far too thin, so I had to add more flour to give it some weight. And the pan didn't heat evenly, although there was no mystery to this, just some annoyance.

Anyway, there's nothing much to pancakes, and they did taste fine. I was somewhat less impressed with the tropical yoghurt and mango - perhaps the mango was a bad idea, being so far out of season. Whatever the cause, it didn't really gel.

Still, I'm inclined to give him the mark for this one. So, that'll be 3-0 on the breakfasts. Next up is "Frozen Fruit Smoothies", clearly a major culinary challenge. However, that one will be delayed a while, as I'll have to invest in a liquidiser first.

After that, it's eggs, in a multitude of forms.

And everything else improved, too

Perhaps as a sign of my renewed fortune in what has been a bad year thus far, I have found that "Twenty Years After" has improved immensely, largely by virtue of things actually starting to happen. In fact, so great is the improvement that I actually considered buying the first volume in the epic-length third part of the trilogy (a book so long it itself had to be split into three parts, the last of which is "The Man in the Iron Mask").

And, added bonus, this morning for breakfast I had my porridge with very dark chocolate and orange marmalade. It was very much a winner.

Huzzah!

It's a bit like...

As you know, I don't talk about my job here. So, let me tell you about my job...

Imagine, you're doing a jigsaw. Not one of those jigsaws for 6-8 year olds that have 100 pieces or so and are Noah's Ark or similar (with all the lovely animals). No, this is one of the 5,000 piece monstrosities that is mostly sky.

Now, imagine you're doing this jigsaw without reference to the picture on the box, so you can't actually see what it's supposed to look like.

In this situation, what you'll find is that there is a very long period of frustration as you're trying to find any sort of a connection between the pieces. Progress is painfully slow. Eventually, though, you'll start to get enough together so that, while you still don't actually know how it's supposed to go together, you can at least see a path to fixing it. You can at least see the shape of the solutions to all those little holes.

That's the way my job is a lot of the time. Problems everywhere that I don't understand, leading to long spells of frustration and stress. And then, suddenly, I see a way forward and, although I still don't have the solution to the problems, I can at least see the shape of that final solution. And progress can be made.

Monday was a bad day. Tuesday was entirely awful from start to finish. Today started as a bad day, and then got much, much better.

Next time I don't talk about work here, I think I'll do the "blind Lego" analogy. That one's even better.

Experimental Cookery Tuesday #15: Pasta Al Pangrattato

For the past several years, it has been my policy in restaurants to order in a semi-random manner, and to generally ensure that I include at least something that I haven't had before. This policy stands me in particularly good stead in my travels abroad, where menus are amongst the hardest things to decipher, being as they are a pure test of vocabulary without any context to help.

This policy, of course, drives my mother absolutely crazy. "How do you know you'll like whatever it is?" she asks. To this, I am quick to respond that, barring an incompetent chef (in which case all bets are off anyway), I can at least be assured that whatever I get will be at least edible. And while I run a certain risk, there is also the chance that I'll find a new favourite somewhere out there. Indeed, this has happened on more than one occasion - I wouldn't have ever tried calamari were it not for this policy.

However, the risk remains that I'll one day find myself presented with a meal that is just horrible. As has happened tonight. Jamie's book has reached a nadir, and it has done so just as I was rethinking my "fish as food nemesis" policy.

The problem, quite simply, was anchovies. The rest of the meal was a bit of a fiddle (seriously, who grates bread?), but looked like it might be quite the thing. And it was quick to cook, despite the fuss.

Oh, but the anchovies! It was immediate upon tasting, my revulsion. This was not a good meal I had cooked. And (horrors!), I had cooked enough for four nights. Oh dear.

I didn't finish, although I did get through most of the bowl. And, shocking as this will probably be to my father, I won't be forcing myself to eat up the rest of the meal. (I will take some consolation that Dad would never have cooked up such a thing, nor would he eat it - it being pasta - and so how he would act in the situation at hand is largely irrelevant, as he wouldn't ever face it.)

Anyway, that's an unassailable 4-1 against Jamie in his "Quick Pasta" chapter, levelling the rounds in our little game. I won't be having this again, even to finish it off.

Next week, a chance for Jamie to recover some pride, at least, with "Mini Shell Pasta with a Creamy Smoked Bacon and Pea Sauce". That should be good. Also, at the weekend I'll be trying my hand at his "One-Cup Pancakes, Tropical Yoghurt and Mango". Although the pancakes do seem awfully similar to the one-cup pancakes that I've known how to cook for many a year...

Also: anchovies? Blech!

ATM Blockers

While on my secret mission this afternoon (which had nothing to do with buying new socks, obviously - I don't want to risk the ire of the Sock Conspiracy further), I was forced to expend my last cash in all the world on the purchase of parking (which was later refunded, but still). So, being a wily sort, I decided to go to the ATM to get some more.

When I arrived, there was no queue, only one person who had the look of being just about to finish. So, despite the heavy rain and high wind, I decided to wait.

Silly me! For I had failed to realise that he wasn't truly finished. Instead, it appeared he must have been doing a balance enquiry, and wished to make another transaction. Still, how long does that take?

Quite long, apparently.

Then, much to my annoyance, he fumbled in his wallet for an age, and produced another card, which he inserted into the machine after much fumbling. And the cycle began again...

At this point, I gave up, and went and bought the things I went for. (Definately not socks.)

When I returned, I swear the same guy was still at the ATM, fighting with the machine! Still, this time he didn't last long, and I was at last able to get the cash I needed.

I can only assume this guy was one of the dread ATM Blockers, a secret order of aliens, sent to this world with the appointed task of being so utterly inept with modern technology that they cause everyone else endless frustration. However, if this is the case, I see that they have adapted to a new disguise - no longer are they bound to the form of a harmless old lady laden with too much shopping. Avoiding them is going to be so much harder in future.

Also, I have found a new mystery. My new socks (damn, the secret's out) include three pairs with a strange quirk. The first pair bear the legend "Eat" on them. The second say "Drink". The third then say "and be Merry".

What exactly is the point of that? Honestly, what good is a pair of socks giving only part of a mildly humorous statement? I mean, I could just about understand it if they each had half of the statement, allowing one to mix-and-match to comedy effect. But when they each have a third of the statement, what is the point? Are they perhaps sports-socks for the three-legged race? Because if so, that seems an awfully niche market to me.

You may now be wondering, "why on Earth would you buy socks like that, if you think they're so stupid?" Good question. The reason is this: when I wear those socks, I'll be able to make exciting and witty conversation about how utterly insane they are. I may even mix-and-match two pairs, while carrying a third sock just to prove my point. In fact, there may be a weeding coming up at which I can do this very thing...

Revenge of the Sock Conspiracy

I'm not sure if I blogged about the Sock Conspiracy before, and if I did it was a long time ago, so I'll recap:

As we all know, washing machines eat socks. Put a load of socks in the machine for washing, and by the time the cycle is done, one or more socks (but never a whole pair) will have been taken as tribute by the beast. Such is the natural order of things, and not to be questioned.

Except that I questioned it, and found a horrifying truth. For, many years ago, I started washing my own socks, and found that the washing machine didn't take its tribute. I thought this must be some mistake, but as the weeks went by without tribute being taken, I grew convinced: it was not the washing machine that was eating the socks.

It turned out that I had tumbled to the existence of the Sock Conspiracy, a dark truth known to all women since time beyond reckoning, that was now threatened by the advent of Feminism. For what would happen is that they would take the socks for washing, wash the socks, and then eat one or more socks (but never a whole pair). (I presume they ate the socks after washing, as the alternative is too horrible to contemplate.) This, then, would create a constant need for new socks on the part of men, allowing the easy purchase of Christmas presents by women.

(This one time, at Band Camp, I was expounding on this conspiracy to one of my students, for reasons that I'm sure seemed obvious at the time, when she exclaimed, "Yes, Mum does do that!" So, I have proof! However, I haven't seen the girl in question for three years... what if she's been disappeared? Oh no!)

Anyway, having found the dark secret of the Sock Conspiracy, I found myself immune to their depradations, or so I thought. No more would I lose socks to the 'washing machine'. (I thought I'd lost one once, but it turned out I'd just dropped it.) No more would I have to wear Christmas socks in June, because those were the only ones left. I had won!

Bwa-hahahaha!

But there is a problem, a dread revenge that the Sock Conspiracy has wreaked upon me.

The last time I bought socks was three years ago, when I travelled and then found I had forgotten to pack any. Since that day, I have seen the quality of my socks gradually drop, inch by painful inch, until this day, when I find myself bereft of good socks. For the past week, I have been wearing three pairs at a time, carefully lining them up so that the holes in one sock are covered by the remnants of a second. But even that measure is proving less effective as time passes. I fear I shall soon have to wear all my socks at all times merely to maintain coverage, and one day even that shall not be enough.

I'm not sure how this could have happened. I can only presume that on that fateful night when I purchased the new socks, the checkout assistant recognised my victory over the Sock Conspiracy, and thus placed a hex on me that my socks would inevitably degrade to the point of uselessness. Alas, my efforts to remove this curse have thus far been unsuccessful.

Whatever shall I do?

Under my Umbrella-ella-ella

It is a blustery day. Sadly, I failed to weigh up just how blustery it really is before putting up my umbrella, which proceeded to turn inside out as one of the tines snapped. Alas, my umbrella is now deceased. It has passed on. It's a stiff. It is, in fact, an ex-umbrella.

However, I can't help but take a certain satisfaction that I at least got my money's worth from the umbrella:

Many years ago (well, four), Glasgow hosted the Special Olympics. And, being a piper who was at the time between jobs (literally - I had a new job, but had not yet started), I was asked by the organising committee to play the pipes as the torch run passed through Motherwell. And so, I went.

That, too, was a rainy day, but actually that adjective doesn't do it justice. It was the sort of day that might inspire Ark-building. Also, en route to the appointed place I managed to lose my way.

And so it was that I decided to stop at the sports centre closest to Motherwell town centre to ask for directions. However, moving from the car (in the car park) to the building itself, I became utterly soaked. In 200 yards or so, I went from warm and dry to so thoroughly wet that no more water could have been absorbed - my clothing was totally saturated.

I asked for, and was given directions. But so potent were my Jedi mind-tricks on that day that the people in the sports centre felt it was not enough to merely give the assistance I rejected: some further tribute was necessary.

They first offered that I could remove my shirt, and they would dry it for me. Alas, I demurred, I was in a hurry so could not accept. And so, they instead offered me an umbrella from their "Lost & Found" box. Initially I was hesitant, as this was presumably an umbrella that someone had Lost - what if they returned seeking it?

But it was a very rainy day, so at length I accepted this tribute. At which point, of course, it stopped raining.

That umbrella has been with me since that day, and has done mighty service in Motherwell, in Glasgow, in Yeovil, in Falkirk, and even in France. Alas, those days are now done.

#4: "Pathfinder: Into the Darklands" by James Jacobs and Greg A. Vaughan

23 pounds and 49 books

I'm still seeking some proper goals for this year, but for the moment I do have two that will suffice for the moment.

The week of Christmas and New Year is always a bad time for diets. I decided to take the dangerous and unwise step of simply coming off the diet for that time, with a view to resuming it this week on returning to work. The danger there being, of course, that it's very easy to restart a diet 'tomorrow'.

As it happened, I did restart the diet on Monday, then dropped off it again for two days, and then resumed once more on Thursday. Hopefully, it will hold reasonably well for the next few months. My target, as before, is 184 pounds, which represents a drop of 23 pounds from this morning's weigh-in.

The other goal on my list is to read more. And since goals must have targets, the target is a mighty 52 books in the year, or an average of one per week. A 'book' will be defined as being the contents of one set of covers. So, a 150-page novella will count as one, as would "Lord of the Rings". A short story collection will count as one, as would the collected works of Shakespeare. However, quality will not be a factor. Neither graphic novels nor magazines will count, but since I don't actually read either of these, this is a non-issue. Oh, and the paper doesn't count either, and neither does anything online.

Oh, yes, and the measure will be books finished. Which means that both the book I was reading on December 31st (which I finished early on the 1st) and "Twenty Years After" (which I'm about 250 pages into, and have been for some time) will count, while any books that I abandon will not count, and neither will the books I carry over to 2010.

In order to track my progress, I'll be providing a numbered list of books on this blog as I read them. The first three entries can be found at the bottom of this post. However, I won't be offering any sort of a review of the books. Partly, this is pure laziness on my part. Partly it's because I wouldn't be reading the books if I didn't think they'd be good. And partly it's that if I committed to doing reviews I would never be able to keep to the 52 book target.

So, that's enough for now. I'm off to do a bit of light reading.

#1: "Excelsior: Forged in Fire", by Michael A. Martin and Andy Mangels
#2: "Moonraker", by Ian Fleming
#3: "How to Fossilise Your Hampster", by Mick O'Hare

(Belated) Experimental Cookery Tuesday #14: Macaroni Cauliflower Cheese Bake

Dear, oh dear. Well, I suppose I was overdue for a complete disaster in the kitchen sooner or later, and this was it.

It was all going so well. There I was, cooking up that most traditional of Christmas fayre (not sure I understand that one, either), when I came to an instruction reading, "If the water boils up beneath the bowl, just turn the heat down slightly." Fair enough.

What the book didn't say was, "When this doesn't work, you'll end up with water everywhere. You might try to order it back, like a particularly wise king of old, but this will be no more successful for you than it was for old Canute. You'll end up with water everywhere, and a kitchen in a mess."

And so it is.

It tasted okay. But, as with the previous two, lacked meat. And it made such a mess. I won't be having this again, save only to consume the other three portions that were made.

And that makes it 3-1 in the "Quick Pasta" chapter, with three to go. Doesn't look too good. Next up is "Pasta Al Pangrattato", which contains anchovies. I can hardly wait.

How to Score Life (Or: Why I get really depressed at New Year)

In one of the earliest Red Dwarf novels (I think it's probably "Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers"), Arnold Rimmer muses on the two types of people. He posits that one group score their lives from 0, but then rate every action as an achievement. Get a 'B' on a test? Well, it's better than a 'C', which itself is much better than nothing at all. The other group, he suggests, begin scoring at 100%, but then lose marks for every failure. That 'B'? Why wasn't it an 'A'?

Naturally, the people in the first group are happier than those in the second, as their lives represent a never-ending sequence of successes and accomplishments, rather than of failures and disappointments.

For the most part, I'm a member of that first group. Sure, I'm constantly looking to improve, and constantly analysing where things went wrong and why, but that's because I always want to outdo the last great achievement. Yeah, I rock.

Except, of course, at New Year, when my thoughts inevitably turn back to the days just passed, and all the many things I didn't get done. And suddenly, it all doesn't look quite so rosy.

Hence my tradition of "go to bed, and try to forget that the last year ever happened". Because no matter how long the list of things that I accomplished is, the list of things I didn't do will always be longer.

Fortunately, it's not New Year's Eve any more.

Competitive Cookery Sunday: #11 Perfect Roast Chicken; #12 Roast Potatoes, Parsnips and Carrots; #13 Dressed Asparagus

So, in preparation for The Reason, we divvied up the cookery task. And naturally, given the nature of my family, this was soon to become a competition with almost unrivalled consequences. Who would secure bragging rights for all time, and who would be consigned to a lifetime of mockery?

Of course, of the eleven adults who were going, at least nine could quite readily put a good meal on the table. So, the challenge was great. Fortunately, I was assigned to cook on the Wednesday, and to cook one of my specialities: Shepherd's Pie. So, no fear there, then.

Until a couple of weeks before The Reason, when I was suddenly shifted to the Sunday, and to cook roast chicken, something I have not had occasion to cook for several years. Oh dear.

Still, not to worry. After all, to do other than smile winningly and say, "okay" would be to suggest weakness, which just would not do. And Jamie does tackle such things, so how hard can they be?

Turns out they're not too tough at all. A bit of preparation, a willingness to follow instructions, and a boneheaded refusal to allow doubt to enter your mind will suffice for most situations. And so, the food was gathered, peeled, chopped, parboiled, roasted, dressed, carved, and served.

People were stunned. I know I was. Most people even ate their parsnips, despite thier status as culinary nemesis. The word "amazing" was used.

That'll be 2-0 to Jamie on the "Family Roasts" chapter, and 1-0 on "Delish Veg". I may well be having some or all of these again, although I can't say when.

The first "Experimental Cookery Tuesdsay" of this year has been delayed, due to my battle with illness. However, all being well, I should be tackling the "Macaroni Cauliflower Cheese Bake" tomorrow. After which, things should be mostly back to normal around here.

Oh, yes: Did I win? Well, we didn't actually run it as a competition. That would be crazy. However, I can take my place amongst the chefs in the family, in whose mighty company I shall not now feel ashamed.

Please, just stop singing!

Once upon a time, I quite enjoyed the new trend towards musical adverts. Thinks like the "Sheila's Wheels" adverts, and Trevor and his banking singers were quite original, well-done, and generally quite enjoyable.

Of course, as with all well-received trends, this one necessarily had to be repeated endlessly, generally by people with much less talent, to the point that any new musical adverts is a whole new exercise in awfulness. The latest musical abomination is the "Take a Break" advert, which has me actively considering ripping my ears off in rage.

Please, please, just stop singing!

Well, I'm back

The Christmas holiday was mostly successful, but had a number of problems. If I were to go into the problems at any length, though, it would make for a very depressing post, so I'm not going to do that.

I was very glad when I finally got home on Saturday afternoon, but I think that was mostly due to being laid low with a rather nasty cough that continues to plague me.

Still, enough of that. On to cheerier things.