I bet you thought I'd gone and forgotten about you all - well I do try but as Miss K Minogue said, I just can't get you out of my head...you'll be singing that all day now.
I have just returned from having my ears lowered, the conversation in the chair running from transvestites and drag queens to uncomfortable medical conditions.
I was early for my appointment because the roads were empty, as Mrs B points out it's school holidays and that means the all the four wheel drives are at home rather than taking little Jocasta and Basil to school.
In my day, school holidays were times when you would see more children out playing but now we have a fear that behind every bush lurks a predatory paedophile, so we keep our children in a cupboard under the stairs just to be on the safe side.
The fear of crime prevents children from having a childhood, when I think of the hours of endless fun we had as kids, taking a stick and playing cowboys and indians or pirates. How we laughed as we romped through the countryside, carefree, singing songs about deer and tea with jam and bread, hiding from the Nazis...hold on, I think my childhood was turned into a film!
Anyway, I didn't want to talk about these things today, I wanted to ask if anyone else is suffering the curse of the flying ant?
Our rather splendid conservatory is full of dead flying ants, they are dead after I assaulted them with lethal levels of anti-ant spray. I have battled wave after wave of the blighters, but still they come.
Why do we need flying ants anyway, I think the little crawling ones are quite sufficient in the scheme of things - the next thing you know is we will be having flying spiders or flying earwigs and Mrs B will not approve of either of them buzzing round her head as she sits in her rather splendid conservatory sipping her pink.
Anyone with a fool proof way of disposing of flying ants please let me know - perhaps there is someone out there who likes flying ants, in which case let me have your address and I will send them on to you.
Away with you all now, get out into the fresh air and enjoy the summer but a word of warning to parents, when you go out to enjoy the day please leave a bowl of water and a dry biscuit in the cupboard under the stairs - you don't want Jocasta and Basil to feel unwanted do you?
Friday, 29 July 2011
Thursday, 21 July 2011
The Big Boss
Hello Campers, hope your not getting rising damp with all this warm summer rain.
I was eating my breakfast this morning whilst listening to Charlie and Louise on BBC Breakfast, she was very chirpy and he was his usual arrogant self. They were talking about a new film with Jennifer Aniston about bad bosses and two thoughts went through my head, one was that I better avoid that film and the other was about the worst boss I had ever had.
I then thought, how many employees of Rupert Murdoch wish it was them who planted a custard pie in his face? Never mind they can join the queue of people waiting to stick the dagger in his back.
It reminds me of I Claudius, I initially thought Rupert would be Tiberius, old and perverted and fearful of assassination but then I recalled his son James sat at his side during those Select Committee hearings and realised he was more like Caligula - the Emperor who made his horse a senator - well Murdoch didn't make his horse a senator but he did promote a horses arse!
Over the course of many years I have lost count of the bosses I have worked for, but there are a few who still come to mind. There was the man who could never look you in the eye when he spoke - he would look up at the ceiling or out of the window as he told you how useless you were. He was the sort of boss who never offered praise he only ever spoke to you to tell you how bad you did the job. He was detested and I was told that one disgruntled staff member actually went to his office one night and crapped in the middle of his desk.
There was another boss who was renowned for his nasty streak, in fact the only thing he seemed to show affection for was his prize rubber tree plant. I was assured this story is true and that one day, whilst he was out of his office, someone went in and used a pocket knife to cut two thirds of the way through the stem of the plant and then made good his escape. It was two days later that the thing toppled over right in the middle of an important meeting.
I had my own run in with a certain man whose sense of humour had been surgically removed at birth. One day after a very angry run in with him I returned to the office I shared with many others and I saw the Pirelli calendar on the wall. Now this man had the habit of reading everything then adding his initials to show what a busy boy he was so I wrote on the calendar - 'there are some big tits in this calendar but none are as big as me' - I then signed his initials to it.
Everyone thought it was hilarious - except the man himself. He confiscated the calendar and demanded to know who had written the offending comment however on this occasion he was bettered by one of my work mates who reported the calendar stolen - it was quickly returned.
Mrs B and I once shared a certain female boss - she was bloody awful and we tried our best to avoid her at all costs. She once called me into the office to ask why Mrs B and I never joined the rest of the team when they went out for a drink - my response was "I'm paid to work with you, not to like you nor socialise with you". We never got asked again.
There was one boss who was very approachable and had this habit of asking if you had any ideas about how things could be improved. I decided one day to have a good rant about one aspect of the job and the boss listened, nodded and then said - OK, I'll put you in charge of it - sort it out!
All these years on and I still have not learnt to keep my mouth shut.
I had bosses who were always on the golf course or the snooker table or putting their wages into a fruit machine, I had bosses who tried to stop me and Mrs B from getting married and I had bosses who did all they could to make sure we could.
Of course now I am my own boss (unless Mrs B is at home) and nobody has to crap on the desk although I did once find crap under the desk - not sure of it was Jake or Danny!
OK, nothing more to see here - move along please.
I was eating my breakfast this morning whilst listening to Charlie and Louise on BBC Breakfast, she was very chirpy and he was his usual arrogant self. They were talking about a new film with Jennifer Aniston about bad bosses and two thoughts went through my head, one was that I better avoid that film and the other was about the worst boss I had ever had.
I then thought, how many employees of Rupert Murdoch wish it was them who planted a custard pie in his face? Never mind they can join the queue of people waiting to stick the dagger in his back.
It reminds me of I Claudius, I initially thought Rupert would be Tiberius, old and perverted and fearful of assassination but then I recalled his son James sat at his side during those Select Committee hearings and realised he was more like Caligula - the Emperor who made his horse a senator - well Murdoch didn't make his horse a senator but he did promote a horses arse!
Over the course of many years I have lost count of the bosses I have worked for, but there are a few who still come to mind. There was the man who could never look you in the eye when he spoke - he would look up at the ceiling or out of the window as he told you how useless you were. He was the sort of boss who never offered praise he only ever spoke to you to tell you how bad you did the job. He was detested and I was told that one disgruntled staff member actually went to his office one night and crapped in the middle of his desk.
There was another boss who was renowned for his nasty streak, in fact the only thing he seemed to show affection for was his prize rubber tree plant. I was assured this story is true and that one day, whilst he was out of his office, someone went in and used a pocket knife to cut two thirds of the way through the stem of the plant and then made good his escape. It was two days later that the thing toppled over right in the middle of an important meeting.
I had my own run in with a certain man whose sense of humour had been surgically removed at birth. One day after a very angry run in with him I returned to the office I shared with many others and I saw the Pirelli calendar on the wall. Now this man had the habit of reading everything then adding his initials to show what a busy boy he was so I wrote on the calendar - 'there are some big tits in this calendar but none are as big as me' - I then signed his initials to it.
Everyone thought it was hilarious - except the man himself. He confiscated the calendar and demanded to know who had written the offending comment however on this occasion he was bettered by one of my work mates who reported the calendar stolen - it was quickly returned.
Mrs B and I once shared a certain female boss - she was bloody awful and we tried our best to avoid her at all costs. She once called me into the office to ask why Mrs B and I never joined the rest of the team when they went out for a drink - my response was "I'm paid to work with you, not to like you nor socialise with you". We never got asked again.
There was one boss who was very approachable and had this habit of asking if you had any ideas about how things could be improved. I decided one day to have a good rant about one aspect of the job and the boss listened, nodded and then said - OK, I'll put you in charge of it - sort it out!
All these years on and I still have not learnt to keep my mouth shut.
I had bosses who were always on the golf course or the snooker table or putting their wages into a fruit machine, I had bosses who tried to stop me and Mrs B from getting married and I had bosses who did all they could to make sure we could.
Of course now I am my own boss (unless Mrs B is at home) and nobody has to crap on the desk although I did once find crap under the desk - not sure of it was Jake or Danny!
OK, nothing more to see here - move along please.
Saturday, 16 July 2011
When Jehovah's Witnesses Attack!
A soggy Saturday here on the hill, the view a little obscured by the rain as it lashes down on a typically British summer day. How goes it with you?
It's been a few days since I last popped my head out of my shell, this is mainly due to work issues and to the fact that any spare time has been used wisely in watching or playing golf.
Some of you may already be aware of the fact that the other day I was conducting a funeral when the coffin was dropped - it was a disaster and very upsetting for the family and in all my time of doing this job this was the first and hopefully the last time this has happened.
It's human nature you see, put a step in the front of a chapel and someone is bound to trip up it - just a shame it had to be a pall bearer!
This was on Tuesday morning and I was still feeling a little stiff myself after playing golf on Monday afternoon, shooting an 86 and just pipping my playing partner securing for myself yet another victory over him - I think I must now truly be his nemesis on the golf course.
So, the week had started off well and then we had the unfortunate coffin calamity on Tuesday, on Wednesday as I was sat at home minding my own business, the doorbell rang. It was Janet and Sandra.
For those of you who might have forgotten, Janet and Sandra are the tame Jehovahs Witnesses that come every now and then to my door bringing news of god and his plan for the world - I have grown rather fond of them and we stand for ages talking about whatever topic is on the front of the Watchtower magazine that they thrust in my hand. There is a second magazine called Awake! - that's a little more trendy I think and the cross word is easier.
Janet and Sandra have always done their best to deliver unto me the word, they have always done so with respect and they are fully aware of my thoughts on religion but who knows, perhaps I am their punishment for being not very good at getting converts?
Over the years we have discussed creation, death and all stops in between...but this time something was different.
Sandra was talking about one of the articles entitled 'Life Without Suffering - When?' and it started a discussion about how some people are meant to suffer because of the poor choices they make and that it all started to go wrong fairly quickly for god when he gave Adam and Eve freedom to choose. He had given them a perfect place to live and only asked them one thing and they couldn't do it so they were chucked out on their ears, fig leaves and all, because of a choice they made.
I suggested that if god had not wanted us to make mistakes he would not have given us freedom of choice, it's like putting biscuits in front of a child and telling them they will never EVER be allowed to eat one. It's cruel...is god cruel I asked?
'Oh no, God expects us to obey' - came the reply. The Bible tells us and shows us how to live and if we obey the word we will have a life without suffering. Janet delivered these words with such passion and belief and I could see the power of Jehovah was strong in her this day!
Then Sandra picked up the message, and she shocked me when she said 'it's like those homosexuals who want to sleep with all those men, the Bible says its an abomination in the sight of God but they do it and that is why they suffer'.
My response was a little tame I think but I managed to say, 'I understand eating shellfish is also an abomination according to the Bible, so you really wouldn't be very considerate towards a gay shrimp would you'!
I thought humour might defuse the situation, but no, the power of the message was throbbing within her and she had to vent it all over the door mat!
We carried on talking, the ladies did not believe that being homosexual was anything other than a choice and we eventually arrived at the point in our conversation where Sandra said - 'it's not the person, it's the act that is evil but God punishes the person for the evil act'.
My next question was something like so, if you choose to be gay and then choose not to act on that choice by not engaging in sex that means you are not evil nor a sinner?
There was some brief contemplation before Sandra said, they will still be sinners because if they have those thoughts they might try and fight them but then again with that powerful an urge they might backslide...(very poor choice of words I thought).
Now I knew I had them! How can it be an urge and a choice?
I pointed out this discrepancy in their thinking and once again religion came to their rescue...god tests us, he will place a thought, a strong suggestion, an urge in our brain and give us freedom of thought to resist it.
My final effort was to say, if god was so upset about homosexuality why didn't he have an 11th commandment, 'thou shalt not be gay'? Or perhaps he thought it was covered in 'thou shalt not covert thy neighbours ass'.
I retained my temper with them, they think they are spreading the word as truth and they think they have no choice...that's why I dislike religion.
The ladies left the doorstep smiling, their work done. I closed the door and went back to watching Supernatural on the Sky+.
Well, I think it's time for a cup of tea and some muesli - I enjoy muesli even though in the Bible it says that mixing nuts, oats and fruit with milk is an abomination in the sight of the Lord - it may well be, but it's a very tasty abomination.
.
It's been a few days since I last popped my head out of my shell, this is mainly due to work issues and to the fact that any spare time has been used wisely in watching or playing golf.
Some of you may already be aware of the fact that the other day I was conducting a funeral when the coffin was dropped - it was a disaster and very upsetting for the family and in all my time of doing this job this was the first and hopefully the last time this has happened.
It's human nature you see, put a step in the front of a chapel and someone is bound to trip up it - just a shame it had to be a pall bearer!
This was on Tuesday morning and I was still feeling a little stiff myself after playing golf on Monday afternoon, shooting an 86 and just pipping my playing partner securing for myself yet another victory over him - I think I must now truly be his nemesis on the golf course.
So, the week had started off well and then we had the unfortunate coffin calamity on Tuesday, on Wednesday as I was sat at home minding my own business, the doorbell rang. It was Janet and Sandra.
For those of you who might have forgotten, Janet and Sandra are the tame Jehovahs Witnesses that come every now and then to my door bringing news of god and his plan for the world - I have grown rather fond of them and we stand for ages talking about whatever topic is on the front of the Watchtower magazine that they thrust in my hand. There is a second magazine called Awake! - that's a little more trendy I think and the cross word is easier.
Janet and Sandra have always done their best to deliver unto me the word, they have always done so with respect and they are fully aware of my thoughts on religion but who knows, perhaps I am their punishment for being not very good at getting converts?
Over the years we have discussed creation, death and all stops in between...but this time something was different.
Sandra was talking about one of the articles entitled 'Life Without Suffering - When?' and it started a discussion about how some people are meant to suffer because of the poor choices they make and that it all started to go wrong fairly quickly for god when he gave Adam and Eve freedom to choose. He had given them a perfect place to live and only asked them one thing and they couldn't do it so they were chucked out on their ears, fig leaves and all, because of a choice they made.
I suggested that if god had not wanted us to make mistakes he would not have given us freedom of choice, it's like putting biscuits in front of a child and telling them they will never EVER be allowed to eat one. It's cruel...is god cruel I asked?
'Oh no, God expects us to obey' - came the reply. The Bible tells us and shows us how to live and if we obey the word we will have a life without suffering. Janet delivered these words with such passion and belief and I could see the power of Jehovah was strong in her this day!
Then Sandra picked up the message, and she shocked me when she said 'it's like those homosexuals who want to sleep with all those men, the Bible says its an abomination in the sight of God but they do it and that is why they suffer'.
My response was a little tame I think but I managed to say, 'I understand eating shellfish is also an abomination according to the Bible, so you really wouldn't be very considerate towards a gay shrimp would you'!
I thought humour might defuse the situation, but no, the power of the message was throbbing within her and she had to vent it all over the door mat!
We carried on talking, the ladies did not believe that being homosexual was anything other than a choice and we eventually arrived at the point in our conversation where Sandra said - 'it's not the person, it's the act that is evil but God punishes the person for the evil act'.
My next question was something like so, if you choose to be gay and then choose not to act on that choice by not engaging in sex that means you are not evil nor a sinner?
There was some brief contemplation before Sandra said, they will still be sinners because if they have those thoughts they might try and fight them but then again with that powerful an urge they might backslide...(very poor choice of words I thought).
Now I knew I had them! How can it be an urge and a choice?
I pointed out this discrepancy in their thinking and once again religion came to their rescue...god tests us, he will place a thought, a strong suggestion, an urge in our brain and give us freedom of thought to resist it.
My final effort was to say, if god was so upset about homosexuality why didn't he have an 11th commandment, 'thou shalt not be gay'? Or perhaps he thought it was covered in 'thou shalt not covert thy neighbours ass'.
I retained my temper with them, they think they are spreading the word as truth and they think they have no choice...that's why I dislike religion.
The ladies left the doorstep smiling, their work done. I closed the door and went back to watching Supernatural on the Sky+.
Well, I think it's time for a cup of tea and some muesli - I enjoy muesli even though in the Bible it says that mixing nuts, oats and fruit with milk is an abomination in the sight of the Lord - it may well be, but it's a very tasty abomination.
.
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
News of the News & Late News
Greetings and welcome, let me first of all promise not to hack into your phone. I can, with a clear conscience, state that the only hacking I have ever done is into a handkerchief during a very heavy cold.
When the news is full of news about how the news is made it begins to paint a very strange picture, like a hungry fish who suddenly finds something good to eat only to realise it is eating its own tail - it can't end well.
The News of the World is the most popular Sunday paper, selling about 3 million papers a month - it has seen its circulation drop considerably over the last ten years and this is probably why the staff there stoop as low as they have done - trying to get that scoop story that will stem the haemorrhage of customers.
If they want to listen in to the phone messages of soap stars or sportsmen or politicians to try and find some titillating story then it says something about the people they hope to sell to, as much as it says something about themselves. There is an appetite for gossip, there are many of us who secretly love to hear that someone has been naughty and better than that, they have been caught out.
I have previously written that we don't need a privacy law because if you have done nothing wrong then you have no secrets to be exposed, but now hearing about the hacking of victims families or even worse, of victims themselves - well perhaps I need to rethink my position.
The situation with the hacking of phones belonging to Milly Dowler and the Soham victims families should make us all ashamed. We allow this behaviour and we reward it by continuing to support the perpetrators - I would imagine that people will still be buying the paper this weekend.
Journalists should investigate, but they should have regard for the law of the land and also show some common decency.
As an aside, I don't care if Clarence Mitchell was hacked, the worst we might have heard is him talking to Mr or Mrs McCann about how they can rebuild their image.
It seems there are still greater depths to sink to - the families of the victims of the London Bombing also seem to have been targeted, their phone numbers more than likely sold to the News of the World by corrupt and greedy police officers - the same police who are investigating the phone hacking!
Andy Coulson has been thrown to the wolves by his old employers but Rebekah Brooks hangs on for grim death to the coat tails of Rupert Murdoch, hoping to ride the storm - but surely, she has to go?
Well that's enough about the news now let me change tack and tell you a story....
On Monday I had a funeral service to conduct at Mansfield crematorium, it was at 10:45am so I arrived at 10:15am. I walked around to the chapel where the 10am funeral was in full swing. It was being led by a man I had not seen before, dressed in a scruffy ill fitting blue suit, he appeared to be a Humanist celebrant.
The ceremony ended and he emerged, and when the mourners had dispersed he left without exchanging any greeting, even though I was trying to make myself known to him.
Yesterday I returned to Mansfield Crematorium to officiate at the 10am funeral - I arrived at 9:30am and got all my papers ready and set up on the lectern - you see I always like to arrive half an hour before a ceremony and prepare properly.
At 9:50am, the man in the scruffy blue suit appeared - he again ignored me, walked past me to the lectern and started to check my papers. I said, "Have we double booked"? He ignored me for a while before saying, "I'm here for the ten o'clock". "I think not", said I and after a few more terse words were exchanged, he checked his diary only to then turn into Homer Simpson. He slapped his hand to his forehead and said " I'm in the wrong place!"
Doh!
The man hurried away and we still have yet to be formally introduced - but I already know I don't like him.
Somewhere a family was waiting for a 10am funeral - no doubt they had to wait longer than they expected.
Anyhoo, it has been two years since I started blogging and it would seem I show little signs of giving up - so that's the news...
...and this is The View From The Hill.
When the news is full of news about how the news is made it begins to paint a very strange picture, like a hungry fish who suddenly finds something good to eat only to realise it is eating its own tail - it can't end well.
The News of the World is the most popular Sunday paper, selling about 3 million papers a month - it has seen its circulation drop considerably over the last ten years and this is probably why the staff there stoop as low as they have done - trying to get that scoop story that will stem the haemorrhage of customers.
If they want to listen in to the phone messages of soap stars or sportsmen or politicians to try and find some titillating story then it says something about the people they hope to sell to, as much as it says something about themselves. There is an appetite for gossip, there are many of us who secretly love to hear that someone has been naughty and better than that, they have been caught out.
I have previously written that we don't need a privacy law because if you have done nothing wrong then you have no secrets to be exposed, but now hearing about the hacking of victims families or even worse, of victims themselves - well perhaps I need to rethink my position.
The situation with the hacking of phones belonging to Milly Dowler and the Soham victims families should make us all ashamed. We allow this behaviour and we reward it by continuing to support the perpetrators - I would imagine that people will still be buying the paper this weekend.
Journalists should investigate, but they should have regard for the law of the land and also show some common decency.
As an aside, I don't care if Clarence Mitchell was hacked, the worst we might have heard is him talking to Mr or Mrs McCann about how they can rebuild their image.
It seems there are still greater depths to sink to - the families of the victims of the London Bombing also seem to have been targeted, their phone numbers more than likely sold to the News of the World by corrupt and greedy police officers - the same police who are investigating the phone hacking!
Andy Coulson has been thrown to the wolves by his old employers but Rebekah Brooks hangs on for grim death to the coat tails of Rupert Murdoch, hoping to ride the storm - but surely, she has to go?
Well that's enough about the news now let me change tack and tell you a story....
On Monday I had a funeral service to conduct at Mansfield crematorium, it was at 10:45am so I arrived at 10:15am. I walked around to the chapel where the 10am funeral was in full swing. It was being led by a man I had not seen before, dressed in a scruffy ill fitting blue suit, he appeared to be a Humanist celebrant.
The ceremony ended and he emerged, and when the mourners had dispersed he left without exchanging any greeting, even though I was trying to make myself known to him.
Yesterday I returned to Mansfield Crematorium to officiate at the 10am funeral - I arrived at 9:30am and got all my papers ready and set up on the lectern - you see I always like to arrive half an hour before a ceremony and prepare properly.
At 9:50am, the man in the scruffy blue suit appeared - he again ignored me, walked past me to the lectern and started to check my papers. I said, "Have we double booked"? He ignored me for a while before saying, "I'm here for the ten o'clock". "I think not", said I and after a few more terse words were exchanged, he checked his diary only to then turn into Homer Simpson. He slapped his hand to his forehead and said " I'm in the wrong place!"
Doh!
The man hurried away and we still have yet to be formally introduced - but I already know I don't like him.
Somewhere a family was waiting for a 10am funeral - no doubt they had to wait longer than they expected.
Anyhoo, it has been two years since I started blogging and it would seem I show little signs of giving up - so that's the news...
...and this is The View From The Hill.
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Catching Up
Hello again, sorry to trouble you but I just wanted to share with you all how life has treated The Guru since we last spoke.
This time last week Mrs B and I were in London, having travelled down on the Friday very early as Mrs B was on a course which started at 10am in Islington. We had booked tickets on the 6.48am train from Nottingham which should have brought us safely into St Pancras for about 8.30am but, you guessed it, the train was late. We arrived at 9am and then found a taxi which took us to Mrs B's destination. We got there with a few minutes to spare. The course was on filial therapy and Mrs B is now throughly au fait with the whole thing and will be spreading the gospel back at her place of work.
Now whilst Mrs B was soaking up all this new knowledge I decided to soak up some culture and I determined to visit a couple of places I had never been before - the first being The British Museum.
So, on the Friday morning, after depositing our cases at the hotel, I walked from Islington to Great Russell Street in Bloomsbury and stood in front of that massive and impressive facade - I had to stand for a while as the forty minute walk had left me a little tired plus you couldn't move for Japanese tourists.
You could say it was like a tidal wave of tourists or even a tsunami, but that would be in bad taste so I won't.
Once inside, I managed to fight my way to the information desk to ask advice as to the best way to navigate the various collections, the very charming and helpful young man behind the counter said "my advice Sir, is to buy the audio guide and then avoid everywhere it tells you to go". I took his advice and spent the next three hours having a good old poke around the place.
One of the most famous exhibits is the Rosetta Stone and I did eventually get near enough to see it, but I enjoyed seeing the Lewis Chessmen, the Sutton Hoo treasure and many other artefacts, some that had even been found quite near my home on the hill...
Anyway, the concert was fabulous except for the moment when Rumer screwed up her words singing We Have All The Time In The World - she may have had the time, but not the timing!
The show ended with Dame Shirl belting out Goldfinger and it was one of those never to be forgotten moments, and I was there!
Later in the week we travelled to Wales and had a nice time visiting Cardiff, we did all the tourist things and went to look for Torchwood but in a week of memories, which included the 27th celebration of our wedding day, Mrs B and I have showed you all that life is something we should strive to enjoy and in that enjoyment is produced the magic of moments which we can pack away in our memory forever...the highlight of highlights was meeting Angelina, she is beautiful and talented and to think she took the time to pose for a photo with me - let me show you what a real super star is....
This time last week Mrs B and I were in London, having travelled down on the Friday very early as Mrs B was on a course which started at 10am in Islington. We had booked tickets on the 6.48am train from Nottingham which should have brought us safely into St Pancras for about 8.30am but, you guessed it, the train was late. We arrived at 9am and then found a taxi which took us to Mrs B's destination. We got there with a few minutes to spare. The course was on filial therapy and Mrs B is now throughly au fait with the whole thing and will be spreading the gospel back at her place of work.
Now whilst Mrs B was soaking up all this new knowledge I decided to soak up some culture and I determined to visit a couple of places I had never been before - the first being The British Museum.
So, on the Friday morning, after depositing our cases at the hotel, I walked from Islington to Great Russell Street in Bloomsbury and stood in front of that massive and impressive facade - I had to stand for a while as the forty minute walk had left me a little tired plus you couldn't move for Japanese tourists.
 |
| The British Museum - with a few Japanese stragglers |
You could say it was like a tidal wave of tourists or even a tsunami, but that would be in bad taste so I won't.
Once inside, I managed to fight my way to the information desk to ask advice as to the best way to navigate the various collections, the very charming and helpful young man behind the counter said "my advice Sir, is to buy the audio guide and then avoid everywhere it tells you to go". I took his advice and spent the next three hours having a good old poke around the place.
One of the most famous exhibits is the Rosetta Stone and I did eventually get near enough to see it, but I enjoyed seeing the Lewis Chessmen, the Sutton Hoo treasure and many other artefacts, some that had even been found quite near my home on the hill...
 |
| Newark Torc |
The beautiful torc, found near Newark, looks very similar to some jewellery Mrs B lost on a shopping trip and I asked if it could be returned but the security guard declined.
Anyway, I enjoyed my little look around the museum, I want to go to the Natural History Museum next time.
In the evening, after collecting Mrs B, we met up with the Dog Daughter, her fiance and mother - and together we strolled through the West End on a very wet evening but you could hear laughter in the rain as we went looking for somewhere to grab a bite to eat. We managed to get a table in Jamie Oliver's restaurant, even thought there were massive queues - thanks to having an inside man! I don't want to blow his cover so we will call him 'Don'.
 |
| Don |
We had a great meal, we had a great waiter and we had a great time and it certainly was a highlight of the trip.
The next day, Mrs B returned to her course and I returned to street walking - well London is a city for walking - I didn't have much choice actually as the Tube was in pieces that day!
I did manage to get as far as Oxford Circus before it broke and then walked down to Trafalgar Square where I had a date to meet one of the stars appearing in West End Live. I was a little nervous about meeting such a world famous lady but when the time came Angelina put me at my ease, she gave me a little kiss and a cuddle and proved to me that she was a complete star - I will be her biggest fan forever, we even had our photo taken and I will show it to you at the end of the blog, a treasured possession.
I then walked around the tourist infested heart of Westminster, Houses of Parliament, South Bank and so on and returned for a quick lie down before the evening session - which entailed going to the Gielgud Theatre to see Lend Me A Tenor - The Musical.
It was brilliant, an old fashioned farce with songs and tap dancing and camp as a camping festival in camp land.
Matthew Kelly was probably the only well known cast member but to regular theatre goers, the name Joanna Riding assured quality - we laughed a great deal and I cannot wait for the cast album to come out. As an aside, Connor Mcallister is in the show, a friend of the Dog Daughter from her panto days - he's a ray of sunshine and quite obviously enjoying working in the show far too much!
Goodness, this is a long blog - perhaps we should have a break for a cup of tea?
Before we do though, let me tell you that London at night is a scary place - the Gielgud Theatre is right on the edge of Soho and I'm telling you the sights you see down there are amazing! There were more people there in one night than I see in Mansfield in a week! And there was no fighting, no swearing just people having a good time, and we joined in.
So that was London, we returned to the ashram - but only for one day because on the Monday we returned to see the John Barry Memorial Concert at the Royal Albert Hall.
This middle class life is wonderful and I hope you poor people are enjoying hearing about how we live our lives whilst you queue up for your out of date humous at Tesco.
We ate an exquisite meal in the restaurant before strolling to our seats and with great anticipation awaited the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, David Arnold, Dame Shirley Bassey, Alfie Boe, Rumer, Sir Michael Caine, Sir George Martin and the brilliant music of John Barry. Sadly, Mr Boe was ill and he was replaced by the 'Go Compare' guy...no comparison.
Now this was an evening of legends and it was very nice to find sitting next to us Sir Peter Blake and his very pleasant and chatty wife. If you don't know who Sir Peter Blake is shame on you!
I'll give you a clue...
Anyway, the concert was fabulous except for the moment when Rumer screwed up her words singing We Have All The Time In The World - she may have had the time, but not the timing!
The show ended with Dame Shirl belting out Goldfinger and it was one of those never to be forgotten moments, and I was there!
Later in the week we travelled to Wales and had a nice time visiting Cardiff, we did all the tourist things and went to look for Torchwood but in a week of memories, which included the 27th celebration of our wedding day, Mrs B and I have showed you all that life is something we should strive to enjoy and in that enjoyment is produced the magic of moments which we can pack away in our memory forever...the highlight of highlights was meeting Angelina, she is beautiful and talented and to think she took the time to pose for a photo with me - let me show you what a real super star is....
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