Whisper words of wisdom

Before I get going, I can't let the remains of the day pass without wishing the Doctor a happy 40th anniversary. Back in 2005, we trust.

This is the first time I have sat in front of may computer since Thursday evening. I have been God-fathering, and horses' heads are in short supply.

Isn't Welwyn Garden City an odd place? I'm not sure precisely when it was laid out, but it must have been right at the dawn of the motor age. Which makes it all the more surprising that the "forward looking" town planners didn't plan for the motor car. Exiting from the station in which there is the obligatory shopping mall, one is confronted with a sort of concrete grand staircase and ramps leading down to what ought to be a carpark but is in fact a sylvan glade in mid-city. The first road is a back-crushing, luggage-bumping 200 yards away. The overall effect - and admittedly I have only seen it under street lamps - is not unlike Hobbiton for the 21st Century given an Elvish makeover and then washed with a Dan Dare overlay.

Very odd. I doubt that I shall alight at that station again if I can help it.

I met up with wallabok and "The Great One" sans LJ for the trip to Foxton where it continued to rain from Friday through Sunday without pause.

Saturday, of course, was the day England won the Rugby World Cup. Hurrah. It did occur to me that sitting watching it in a house with three Aussies whilst wearing and England shirt was perhaps far from the wisest thing I might have done, but I think I was diplomatic enough at our win, doing the happy dance but three times when etiquette called for continuous bouncage. Nonetheless, I found it wise to leave for a few hours and travel through the rain with Matt sans LJ the only other Living Englishman tm present to Cambridge. We spent a couple of hours there getting wet and not seeing colleges which must be some kind of (unwanted) record.

The journey out provided entertainment of an odd kind when I found that for once I was allowed to smoke in the car. Matt smokes, as does his girlfriend, Thea, so I sat in the back and smoked too. Of course, coursing down the dual carriageway billowing smoke from four open windows is something rarely seen in this modern age. As is the sight of a Bryan rapidly exiting a slowing, but still-moving car and doing something remarkably like the happy dance but with watusi sound effects. Matt's ejected cigarette stub, you see, exited his window as planned but for some reason lost telemetry and re-entered early, through my window and then with exquisite accuracy went straight down my collar.

My, how I laughed.

Yesterday afternoon, the weather continuing inclement, we watched the extended version of The Two Towers (Many extended scenes, including one of course, with Agent Elrond ("You cannot marry my daughter, Miss-terr Ar-raa-gorrrn..."), and a worthy addition to the fold it is; making my decision to hold off buying any of the movies on DVD until the inevitable trilogy box set comes out exceedingly difficult...

Today the rain continued. This mattered little since it was the day of the Christening and we were again indoors. It was perhaps a little embarrassing to admit as a God Father that I myself have not been confirmed, but I have brass-necked my way through worse in the past. The God-Block Factor 500 held and your correspondent is unsinged after his second trip to a church within three months for purposes other than looting the poor box. The Rector (what is the difference between a Rector and a Vicar, does anyone know?) managed to be both quite traditional and bouncy-bouncy at the same time which was odd enough to be interestinmg, and familiar enough to be non-worrisome.

I have to go for a blood test tomorrow. This is unrelated to the above, but I have to finish somehow.

Whisper words of wisdom

Before I get going, I can't let the remains of the day pass without wishing the Doctor a happy 40th anniversary. Back in 2005, we trust.

This is the first time I have sat in front of may computer since Thursday evening. I have been God-fathering, and horses' heads are in short supply.

Isn't Welwyn Garden City an odd place? I'm not sure precisely when it was laid out, but it must have been right at the dawn of the motor age. Which makes it all the more surprising that the "forward looking" town planners didn't plan for the motor car. Exiting from the station in which there is the obligatory shopping mall, one is confronted with a sort of concrete grand staircase and ramps leading down to what ought to be a carpark but is in fact a sylvan glade in mid-city. The first road is a back-crushing, luggage-bumping 200 yards away. The overall effect - and admittedly I have only seen it under street lamps - is not unlike Hobbiton for the 21st Century given an Elvish makeover and then washed with a Dan Dare overlay.

Very odd. I doubt that I shall alight at that station again if I can help it.

I met up with wallabok and "The Great One" sans LJ for the trip to Foxton where it continued to rain from Friday through Sunday without pause.

Saturday, of course, was the day England won the Rugby World Cup. Hurrah. It did occur to me that sitting watching it in a house with three Aussies whilst wearing and England shirt was perhaps far from the wisest thing I might have done, but I think I was diplomatic enough at our win, doing the happy dance but three times when etiquette called for continuous bouncage. Nonetheless, I found it wise to leave for a few hours and travel through the rain with Matt sans LJ the only other Living Englishman tm present to Cambridge. We spent a couple of hours there getting wet and not seeing colleges which must be some kind of (unwanted) record.

The journey out provided entertainment of an odd kind when I found that for once I was allowed to smoke in the car. Matt smokes, as does his girlfriend, Thea, so I sat in the back and smoked too. Of course, coursing down the dual carriageway billowing smoke from four open windows is something rarely seen in this modern age. As is the sight of a Bryan rapidly exiting a slowing, but still-moving car and doing something remarkably like the happy dance but with watusi sound effects. Matt's ejected cigarette stub, you see, exited his window as planned but for some reason lost telemetry and re-entered early, through my window and then with exquisite accuracy went straight down my collar.

My, how I laughed.

Yesterday afternoon, the weather continuing inclement, we watched the extended version of The Two Towers (Many extended scenes, including one of course, with Agent Elrond ("You cannot marry my daughter, Miss-terr Ar-raa-gorrrn..."), and a worthy addition to the fold it is; making my decision to hold off buying any of the movies on DVD until the inevitable trilogy box set comes out exceedingly difficult...

Today the rain continued. This mattered little since it was the day of the Christening and we were again indoors. It was perhaps a little embarrassing to admit as a God Father that I myself have not been confirmed, but I have brass-necked my way through worse in the past. The God-Block Factor 500 held and your correspondent is unsinged after his second trip to a church within three months for purposes other than looting the poor box. The Rector (what is the difference between a Rector and a Vicar, does anyone know?) managed to be both quite traditional and bouncy-bouncy at the same time which was odd enough to be interestinmg, and familiar enough to be non-worrisome.

I have to go for a blood test tomorrow. This is unrelated to the above, but I have to finish somehow.