Thursday, December 31, 2009
 | So, it's been a while but well, you know, time flies when you're having fun eh? Time for a wee round up of happenings ahead of nooyear. Dieter Rams has probably, without you knowing it, touched your life in some way. Maybe you bought an Oral B toothbrush, you admired a smart Braun coffee maker or perhaps you used the calculator on your Apple iphone; all of them, and thousands more industrial products, bear his influence. Rams does not speak in public very often and so in February I made a point of arriving early for his appearance at the V&A. Tick, another design hero seen and heard in the flesh. More on that story later. On my birthday, my third visit to the Chelsea Flower Show, evidence if it is still needed, that gardening now has me firmly in its grip. A trip to the Houses of Parliament on the very same day that Mrs Obama and daughters got their own private visit to Big Ben; complete with armour plated people carriers, menacing looking men with bulging jackets and twitchy looking policeman with submachine guns on the Members Terrace. I met Barbara Follett and snarled at Quentin (Tosser Boy) Letts. The final acceptance that I can no longer read microscopic print. Or quite small print. Actually, anything smaller than 10 points and I'm buggered. The convoluted saga of acquiring my first ever spectacles which took about three months to arrange. More on that story later. The surprise offer of another job which I accepted because it fits with my Programme for Employment Enjoyment. I ditched Virgin Mobile. Oh sorry, that should read, "hi drd, the guys at virgin mobile have just decided to increase their prices by 600% cool huh! we'll make it easy for you to ditch us cos we're cool and we don't use capital letters evah." whateva buggeroffbranson. I blogged less and less and suffered the loss of readership and linkage. On the one hand this saddened me; readers and links were sort of hard earned so for them to not be there anymore did not leave me unmoved. My thanks to the faithful few who keep coming - even now. In my life I value loyalty above all else; you are right at the top of my Respect List. On the other hand I got some of my life, privacy and sense of not having to find things to blog about back. A life lived online is not wholly lived - I have concluded. Wildlife of the welcome and unwelcome kind came acalling. Call me Nature Boy. Daniel Libeskind has probably, without you knowing it, not touched your life in some way. Maybe, though, you've heard of him, read about him here or know about his involvement with The World Trade Center site. Libeskind does speak in public quite a bit, but not in Britain, and so in October I made a point of arriving early for his appearance at the RIBA. Tick, another design hero seen and heard in the flesh. More on that story later. During the year I broke even, in a Net Worth sense, for the first time in my life. This happened quietly, without my realising, and only dawned on me very recently. After twenty five years of work I am, so to speak now in profit; er...Yippee! I will refrain from getting carried away though because, as we all know, Past Performance is no guarantee of Future returns etc etc. There's a recession on Doom Gloom Agogo. But, hell, Yippee! New Year blessings, peace and happiness be upon you. |
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:59 PM
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Remembrance
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
"politicians who took us to war should have been given the guns and told to settle their differences themselves, instead of organising nothing better than legalised mass murder".
Harry Patch 1898-2009
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:00 AM
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Chain Reaction
The broadcast of the episodes of Chain Reaction for which I attended the recording is in progress. First episode, Robert Llewellyn interviewing Dave Gorman was this evening. Next Tuesday for Dave Gorman interviewing Frank Skinner. iPlayer link.
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 12:32 AM
Monday, August 17, 2009
For about 15 months I've been waiting to do some vital maintenance jobs on BIgnjuicy acres. These are the kind of jobs you can only do when there is fine weather. Until the last few days the combination of factors required has not occurred. Now, all factors are in synch:
1. Fine weather.
2. Continuous fine weather for more than one hour.
3. Continuous fine weather for more than one hour extending beyond one day.
4. Continuous fine weather for more than one hour extending beyond one day and I do not have to be anywhere else.
5. I can be arsed to do the vital maintenance jobs.
6. I have the money to buy the stuff to do the vital maintenance jobs.
So, with all six factors in synch I have been installing an external tap to facilitate irrigation of the Bignjuicy meadow and grazing pastures. (The willdebeest eat a lot of grass at this time of year and a watering can is no longer a feasible option). A 'simple DIY external tap for willdebeest irrigation kit' was purchased from a local good stockist. I lacerated my arm shearing through the polypropylene blister that the kit was entombed within. I drilled a massive hole in my wall and clamped the impossibly small fitting to my water pipe. I screwed it in and it started to hiss. Water began to spray out all over me and the floor. I tightened up the little plastic screw a bit more and the water stopped. After threading the curly hose through the massive hole, the tap was connected and I plugged in the yellow curly hosepipe (£34.99 from Homebase), the water gushed forth as a spring from the rock of Daniel (or something like that). The wildebeest frolicked. I was happy. I turned my thoughts to sewage.
Six months ago, when factor no 1 was in operation for less than the requisite duration for factor no 2 to pertain, I noticed a certain whiffiness emanating from a manhole not far from the tradesmen's entrance. Investigations revealed a corroded gasket. Not only that but the supporting flange for the gasket was also perforated in several spots. Jumping up and down on the manhole cover produced noxious vapours as little stinkjets perfumed the air. Flies hovered, the wildebeest nodded in olfactory familiarity. I determined that the flange was embedded in six inches of concrete which would need to be removed so that flange replacement could be effected. A replacement flange/cover combo was purchased from a local good stockist (the same one as previously) and I set about the concrete manfully with a cold chisel and lump hammer. Unfortunately it was impossible to obtain the necessary impact with the manhole cover in place and so the unpleasant task of opening it was performed. My past flashed before my eyes as I gazed down into the abyss. Momentarily a gush of effluent streamed into the inspection chamber. I realised, for the first time since taking up residence here many many moons ago that my chamber is a communal facility into which the facilities of my neighbours discharge. Let me tell you now, you will never look at your neighbours quite the same way again when you have seen their sewage; affluent they may be, but effluent they most definitely are. So, day three in the Bignjuicy house. drD has concreted his flange. After a resful night he awakes, descends the stairs to hear a hissing and splashing sound.
The kitchen is under three inches of water. A small jet is spraying out of a broken small plastic screw. Forgive me but my first word this morning was, "shit".
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:12 PM
1. Fine weather.
2. Continuous fine weather for more than one hour.
3. Continuous fine weather for more than one hour extending beyond one day.
4. Continuous fine weather for more than one hour extending beyond one day and I do not have to be anywhere else.
5. I can be arsed to do the vital maintenance jobs.
6. I have the money to buy the stuff to do the vital maintenance jobs.
So, with all six factors in synch I have been installing an external tap to facilitate irrigation of the Bignjuicy meadow and grazing pastures. (The willdebeest eat a lot of grass at this time of year and a watering can is no longer a feasible option). A 'simple DIY external tap for willdebeest irrigation kit' was purchased from a local good stockist. I lacerated my arm shearing through the polypropylene blister that the kit was entombed within. I drilled a massive hole in my wall and clamped the impossibly small fitting to my water pipe. I screwed it in and it started to hiss. Water began to spray out all over me and the floor. I tightened up the little plastic screw a bit more and the water stopped. After threading the curly hose through the massive hole, the tap was connected and I plugged in the yellow curly hosepipe (£34.99 from Homebase), the water gushed forth as a spring from the rock of Daniel (or something like that). The wildebeest frolicked. I was happy. I turned my thoughts to sewage.
Six months ago, when factor no 1 was in operation for less than the requisite duration for factor no 2 to pertain, I noticed a certain whiffiness emanating from a manhole not far from the tradesmen's entrance. Investigations revealed a corroded gasket. Not only that but the supporting flange for the gasket was also perforated in several spots. Jumping up and down on the manhole cover produced noxious vapours as little stinkjets perfumed the air. Flies hovered, the wildebeest nodded in olfactory familiarity. I determined that the flange was embedded in six inches of concrete which would need to be removed so that flange replacement could be effected. A replacement flange/cover combo was purchased from a local good stockist (the same one as previously) and I set about the concrete manfully with a cold chisel and lump hammer. Unfortunately it was impossible to obtain the necessary impact with the manhole cover in place and so the unpleasant task of opening it was performed. My past flashed before my eyes as I gazed down into the abyss. Momentarily a gush of effluent streamed into the inspection chamber. I realised, for the first time since taking up residence here many many moons ago that my chamber is a communal facility into which the facilities of my neighbours discharge. Let me tell you now, you will never look at your neighbours quite the same way again when you have seen their sewage; affluent they may be, but effluent they most definitely are. So, day three in the Bignjuicy house. drD has concreted his flange. After a resful night he awakes, descends the stairs to hear a hissing and splashing sound.
The kitchen is under three inches of water. A small jet is spraying out of a broken small plastic screw. Forgive me but my first word this morning was, "shit".
freshly squeezed for you by drD at 11:12 PM