Comeback kid

Just watched Murray's inspirational battle to make the quarter finals of Wimbledon, fighting for every point to claw his way back form two sets down against Gasquet - what a contest. I was in the gym when he rescued the third set - my five minute final stint on the rowing machine turned into a thirteen minute slog so that I could drive home at a safe point in the match. Of course people are going to be saying he can go all the way now. I predict Nadal will crush him utterly.

Twin parks

Yesterday I got up early before work to play around with some of that second hand camera equipment I mentioned previously. It was a lovely sunny morning so I decided to set off early and allow myself a leisurely stroll through the park with the aim of snapping some of the beautiful flowers which have sprung up around the castle. As soon as I pulled into the car park I realised my mistake: my manager drives to work on Saturdays (the rest of the week he gets the train) and he is unfailingly early too. Instead of taking some pictures I got treated to an extended morning briefing and found myself in work a full 45 minutes early. I managed to get back to the park at lunch time to have a play with my new toy though.



It's an old digital SLR (a Canon D30 if you're interested) which I managed to get on eBay for not too much - less than I payed for my compact anyway. I'm finding the level of manual control and flexibility of interchangeable lenses excellent, but there is a steep learning curve with a complicated piece of kit like this. I spent Friday evening reading the 150 page manual!

Last night we travelled into Birmingham by train to celebrate my sister's new job and eat at the Gourmet Burger Bar on the canal in Brindley place. The menu told us that the burgers and chips were all hand made and they did taste mighty good. I had a horseradish and rocket beefburger with a bottle of Old Speckled Hen.



Speaking of ale I had a wonderful organic number from Sainsburys earlier in the week - it was presented in a lovely old style medicine bottle. My girlfriend had a chocolate porter - she's into her stout. I much prefer ale and bitter these days to larger, I love sampling the guest ales they have on at good pubs - there is just so much more variety in character and flavour compared with the standard array of continental lagers you find on offer in most pubs.



Took my bike in to be serviced on Thursday and I'm not getting it back until Tuesday evening. With the weather so nice I've missed getting out to the park on it and haven't fancied the gym as an alternative, although I really ought to make some use of my membership. On the plus side I'm getting it done for £50 instead of £95 because of the delay which I thought was uncommonly nice of them. Today I think I'll go for a nice long walk in the park and hopefully try to drag my girlfriend along with me.

It strikes me there may some confusion over the parks which I mention in this blog so I'm going to clear them up briefly: the park I walk to work through is in Tamworth which is the town in which I work, some twenty minutes drive from where I live. The cheapest parking there is provided by the council - a nice ten minute stroll through the the grounds of Tamworth castle (which you can see in the picture above) from the shopping centre which houses my store. The park I like to ride my bike in is called Sutton Park and is about a five minute cycle form my flat. It is much larger (around 2,400 acres I believe) and offers some good cross country terrain, woodland, lakes, hills and even some historical interest: there is a Roman road and even some prehistoric ruins and mounds.



I feel pretty lucky to have access to such a beautiful place practically on my doorstep and, although I often talk about living somewhere warmer, I wouldn't like to be far from some kind of park or wilderness.

Flash in the pan

I haven't been near Metal Gear Solid since Saturday and haven't really missed it. I'm starting to think that my completest obsession was merely an early reaction to suddenly having so much time on my hands. Instead, my serpent-free activities this week have largely consisted of cycling and taking photographs (and something else of a clandestine nature).

The idea of photography has always appealed to me, but for some reason I've not spent any time getting to know my way around a camera, and as such my pictures have always been rather hit or miss - more miss than hit I reckon. Now though, with four whole days a week at my disposal (at least until the end of September), I have no excuse: I have decided to let my inner-amateur-photographer burst forth in an explosion of second hand equipment, how to books and approval seeking blog posts. You have been warned...

Thinking about what it is that attracts me to photography lead me back to this blog: it's a way of documenting what goes on in life - even the mundane unimportant stuff - because it's terrifying sometimes to look back and realise just how little you actually remember of the last five, ten, fifteen years.

Potty

Found out yesterday that my eldest sister has been offered a job at a local grammar school - her first job after qualifying too so big congrats to her!

Today I began by re-potting the tomato plants which have been bolting skywards on our kitchen window sill for the last few weeks. They've gone a bit wrong I think - too gangly and spindly, but they are staring to bear fruit now. They are too big for the window sill in their shiny new pots so I've had to leave them outside with an impromptu wind breaker made of other outdoor potted plants.



I then began to tackle the mass of house plants which have been crying out for re-potting but unfortunately ran out of potting compost half way through. To the garden centre then.

Silent Heart

Went to my Mother's end of year HND art installation last night. Her creation was a heart chamber which featured many familiar objects from my parents houses over the years, a kind of dub step heart beat soundtrack (courtesy of my younger brother), a strong smell of coffee and - through what at first appeared to be a mirror - a small candlelit area of sanctuary, free from the intense red of the chamber. It made for an disorientating, claustrophobic experience which engaged all the senses. There was a whole lot of personal stuff going on there for my Mother, but for me it was like walking into the Silent Hill version of one of the houses I grew up in.





Another interesting installation was the birth canal by one of my Mother's friends. It was a dark, tight, cotton wool packed tunnel which you had to crawl through to the sound of a thumping heart beat. It was very a physical experience and quite comical to watch people stumbling out of the other end, blinking at the sudden bright light. The dog leg at the narrow end did raise a few interesting anatomical questions though...

My mother won the top award for the evening in the end so we all headed out to celebrate with a few drinks and some grub.

Sunny Sundays

Another gorgeous day today so I got up early and made my third trip to the park this week. Took a couple of photos too:




Found out today that the service for my bike will cost £95.00! In fairness I've done nothing to the bike for three years and ridden it in all weather, only hosing it down and oiling it every now and again. Still, seems expensive.

Woke up

with a jolt at 4am this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. Decided instead to get up and play some MGS which I enjoyed, but payed for later with an exhausted, miserable day at work.

On the way home I passed various groups of chavs milling around in groups of between three and ten. Each 'gang' could be identified by the particular distorted track they had blaring from their tracksuit bottoms. It was quite weird passing through these tiny distinct islands of poor quality mobile phone music and it brought to mind the 80s boom box - more cumbersome perhaps, but immeasurably less tinny and crap. I also chuckled at the potential for cacophony if one little soundscape should meet another.

I am a betting n00b it seems. Yesterday's remarkably attractive odds were the result of my not realising that a 'win' does not count after 90 minutes. D'OH! indeed.

Bet that

I'm not really into gambling in a big way but it's a vice I like to indulge around the time of big sporting tournaments. A few quid on England for patriotic reasons - plus a few on a couple of teams who actually have a chance - is the usual format. I picked Germany, Holland and Spain to go all the way in the Euros and have been enjoying watching the three of them progress through the group stages. Especially the Dutch - amazing scenes!

Just before the Turkey / Croatia match started this evening I decided to take a look at the odds for each side qualifying. I think the betting site I use made a bit of an oversight because by betting a certain amount on Croatia and a certain amount on Turkey the worst I could possibly do was make an 18 pence profit. I watched most of the match pretty chuffed with myself until I realised I should have bet a much, much larger certain amount! D'OH!

In other news: went for my second bike ride this week after work. Go me!

HMV

Tiring of the sedentary lifestyle of the last few days I decided to go for a bike ride in the park. Roughly half way round the route I usually take, my lungs were burning, the sun was shining through the forest canopy - dappling the path ahead - and my calf muscles were aching. Without wishing to sound too cheesy: I felt contented. It always amazes me how good hard physical exercise makes me feel, and how hard it is sometimes to motivate myself to do any.

Nearer the end of my ride I passed a man bellowing something with great foghorn shouts which made whatever he was saying indecipherable. A little further along I came across a dog sprawled out on the path, drowsing in the sun. As I slowed down it came up to me for some fuss and when I tried to set off again the dog followed me - still trying to jump up and rest its paws on my legs. At the same time the aforementioned park herald rounded a corner and, having sight of his quarry, increased the ferocity of his shouts tenfold. Not wanting to appear as if I was leading the dog away I stopped again and resolved to wait for the owner to catch up. This did not have a mollifying effect on the owner's thunderous calls, however, so I decided to lead the dog back to him. He continued to shout right up until the poor creature was deposited back at his feet, ready to be tethered again. Perhaps the dog had run off for a little respite from his master's voice?

Snakes eaten

Yesterday I completed Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater. It took me all day and most of the evening. Next up is Metal Gear Solid The Twin Snakes - the Gamecube remake of the 1998 Playstation game, followed by Metal Gear Solid 2 Sons of Liberty. I've previously started all these games but not finished them, so when Metal Gear Solid 4 Guns of the Patriots arrived on my doormat last week, I decided it was time to finally complete them so that I would have a clue what's going on in what is apparently Hideo Kojima's last Metal Gear game. I started with no. 3 because it is a prequel to the first two games.

Now I'm going to get really geeky. Metal Gear Solid 3 (the game I started with) was released on Playstation 2 (PS2) in 2004, the same year as the Gamecube remake of Metal Gear Solid, which I will be playing next. Thirdly I will commencing Metal Gear Solid 2, which was released in 2001 on PS2, before finally firing up the Playstation 3 (PS3) to play Metal Gear Solid 4 - released in 2008.

The two PS2 games will be played on the PS2 due to the poor backwards compatibility (BC) of the PS3 - that is unless I decide to play the Xbox version of Metal Gear Solid 2 on the Xbox 360. The Gamecube game will be played on the Wii as I no longer own a Gamecube and the Wii's BC is just fine. The PS3 game will of course be played on the PS3.

Convoluted? You should try wrapping your head around the plot in these games!

Youth

Went into town with my younger brother who is back from University in Manchester last night and got quite drunk. We sampled the ales at the Briar Rose and finished up until late at the Tap and Spile. We also managed to get into a play fight down by the canal on our way to find a taxi - haven't done that in a long time! I'm still recovering, but he bounced out of bed around ten this morning and went off to do whatever it is young people do with their holidays. I can dimly remember a time when a night on the sauce didn't require a full day of recovery. I miss my youth.

I finished reading Anita and Me by Meera Syal yesterday. It was a very amusing read which gives a glimpse of a community the like of which no longer exists; a small midlands mining village where Meena and her family are the only immigrants. It strikes me as important that stories like this are told before they fade into our past.

I'm pretty sure I'm nearing the end of Metal Gear Solid 3. I've just faced an epic snipe-off in the jungle against The End - a ludicrous character who has lived for over a hundred years and spends most of his time asleep in a wheelchair, only rousing himself when it is time to do battle. Only in a Hideo Kojima game!

The sad decline of the Poodle

I used to think of poodles as faintly ridiculous, showy, useless creatures for posh women to fawn over. Last Tuesday though, whilst on a pleasant cycle along the canal from Sandwell to Walsall, my girlfriend's Dad told me that the noble Poodle was once used as a hunt dog, retrieval of birds shot over water being chief among their duties. The unusual coats were actually bred for their waterproof qualities and cut in such a way as to reduce drag in the water. I wonder if they day dream about the hunt whilst being paraded around in daft costumes at Crufts?

Here are some pictures I took the other day on my walk to work:





Not bad for a phone camera eh? Although the colour does appear a little washed out. I think the brief smattering of park is the only nice part of the town in which I work. Which reminds me: there was a fire at the shopping centre yesterday. We were evacuated at about 16:40 and couldn't get back in to cash up until gone half five. It was quite amusing to see the multicoloured retail uniforms on display all at once, gathered at the muster point in the park. The fire brigade had already put out the 'blaze' by the time we arrived. Some of the Ivy which grows up the side of the multi-story car park had caught (or been set on) fire apparently. Pathetic really but I suppose they have to err on the side of caution with these things - and it did give the security team a welcome opportunity to shout and look important.

We had been invited for a meal with friends after work and they cooked us some lovely farmer's market lamb and vegetables, washed down with plum wine. The Mrs had chicken; she is a recovering vegetarian and has rather stalled at red meat. For dessert we had a fabulously tart rhubarb crumble, just the way I like it. Conversation ranged from art, literature and theology to the sexual habits (see what I did there?) of the Brides of Christ in Ireland.

Friday the 13th

Hasn't been very scary or unlucky so far: work was bearable, I've cooked a nice tea (fajitas) and now I'm watching Hollyoaks - bloody Hollyoaks with its patronising parallels set to indie music at the beginning of every episode. The mrs loves it and over time, through indirect absobtion of the plot and characters, I've come to depend on it too. Bloody Hollyoaks.

I was intending to go to the cinema and see the new movie (The Happening, I think) by the guy who did The Village and Unbreakable this evening but predictably I felt reticent about socialising when I got home.

Recently bought Mass Effect for the 360 and raced through it as a Renegade. I realise I'm late to the party but why the hell wasn't this game of the year? Rarely has a game made me feel so uncomfortable about the consequnces of my actions, far more so than Bioshock did. After watching the ending my in-game choices had awarded me, I was amazed by how affected I was.

Jeans and Sneakers day

For the last three or four weeks I've been working Thursdays in return for a day off on Friday, which has worked out rather nicely because my girlfriend also has Fridays off. The one thing which spoils it slightly is the Friday afternoon text from my overly eager manager, kindly reminding me that Saturday is 'Jeans and Sneakers day'. Quite why this thirty year old man (with a wife and children) finds the prospect of retail in jeans, 'sneakers' and a company branded t-shirt so compelling is beyond me, and whilst I'm glad it brings some excitement to his life - I just wish he didn't feel the need to involve me in his building anticipation, especially on my day off.

Other things that upset me slightly are his strange punctuation of emails and texts in which he replaces commas with apostrophes, but only at the beggining or end, and his use of vomit inducing management phrases.

Hi David'

Insert meaningless management phrases such as 'going forward' here

Regards
Manager'

Love to know what that is all about - but after his reaction the last time I challenged his command of the English language - I think it will have to remain a mystery.

For my benefit

This blog appears to be entirely for my own benefit. Perhaps when I have got into the swing of this writing lark I'll attempt more of a coherently themed blog; one which will dazzle with wit and insight, feature startlingly beautiful photographs which I have taken and attract a flurry of comments after each scintillating post. For the time being it is serving, I hope, to cement some of what goes on in my life into my leaky memory.

Still feeling rough after work so I have retreated to bed whilst my girlfriend and my sister go to see the Sex in the City movie. I bet it's better than Indiana Jones.

Whilst making my mind up whether to read or watch a film I've been perusing a few political blogs. I find it terrifically difficult to pick out the truth from what the media present to us and what the conspiracy theorists would have us believe. I suppose the only way to really get a handle on what's going on is to do the research yourself, and who has the time for that? People who have the time to write blogs?

More of the same

Two engagement parties in one weekend, phew! Feeling very hungover, tired and thoughtful about what the future holds. Having jacked in my career to go back to uni it's strange seeing my friends zooming ahead with theirs; settling down, getting married, having kids and buying houses. Glad we got our foot on the property ladder a few years ago at least.

Enjoying the new series of Gladiators today. They have it exactly right: what people wanted from the comeback was more of the same. Pity Lucas et al didn't realise that when they cobbled together the travesty that is the fourth Indiana Jones movie.

I've previously been rather suspicious of the Christopher Tolkien edited releases of his father's unpublished work, but Children of Hurin has been a pleasant surprise. After all the serious literature of the last year I'm loving the chance to escape into some fantasy. No fictional world other than perhaps Frank Herbert's Dune captures my imagination so completely.