(no subject)

Spent the weekend in South Cambs as advertised, and courtesy the clan wallabok came home with a TARDIS cookie jar.

Proving yet again, that I need a digital camera, here are a couple of piccies taken on my mobile phone in poor light and distinctly low-fi:



How cool is that? Now all I need is some biscuits to put in it...

(no subject)

Spent the weekend in South Cambs as advertised, and courtesy the clan wallabok came home with a TARDIS cookie jar.

Proving yet again, that I need a digital camera, here are a couple of piccies taken on my mobile phone in poor light and distinctly low-fi:



How cool is that? Now all I need is some biscuits to put in it...

I guess it's officially autumn...

As ever, the first day of the change back to Greenwich Mean Time for the winter has caught me out. It's not that I forgot to change the clocks or anything, nope; I did that like a good lad afore pootling off to bed last night. No, it's the fact that it's pretty much fully dark by 5pm that gets me. Despite that being the case every autumn of my 45 years, I never expect it to be quite so dark quite so quickly.

Dark by 5 is a midwinter thing, not a mid autumn one. The slow, inexorable creep to dark around 4pm by the shortest day, which is still two months away, has picked up pace from a slow dawdle to a sprint.

Now, I'm not one of these people who lets the dark nights get to him, all that SAD syndrome and all that (though last winter, suffering the effects of boss from hell took me close), but I do rather prefer a bit of day light. I like cold winter days (provided it's a crisp, dry cold, rather than damp and miserable), but I'd like a bit more daylight to accompany it. The reverse of this though, is that sleeping a night is no problem - cool, dark nights mean Bryan as snug as a bug in a rug come beddy-byes.

Oh yes.

But dark by 5pm? Not so keen.

I guess it's officially autumn...

As ever, the first day of the change back to Greenwich Mean Time for the winter has caught me out. It's not that I forgot to change the clocks or anything, nope; I did that like a good lad afore pootling off to bed last night. No, it's the fact that it's pretty much fully dark by 5pm that gets me. Despite that being the case every autumn of my 45 years, I never expect it to be quite so dark quite so quickly.

Dark by 5 is a midwinter thing, not a mid autumn one. The slow, inexorable creep to dark around 4pm by the shortest day, which is still two months away, has picked up pace from a slow dawdle to a sprint.

Now, I'm not one of these people who lets the dark nights get to him, all that SAD syndrome and all that (though last winter, suffering the effects of boss from hell took me close), but I do rather prefer a bit of day light. I like cold winter days (provided it's a crisp, dry cold, rather than damp and miserable), but I'd like a bit more daylight to accompany it. The reverse of this though, is that sleeping a night is no problem - cool, dark nights mean Bryan as snug as a bug in a rug come beddy-byes.

Oh yes.

But dark by 5pm? Not so keen.

Halloween: A retrospective

When I was a kid, Halloween was a date on the calendar and not much else. We certainly didn't celebrate it in any particular way.

By the time I reached 18 and was old enough to hit the pubs of an evening, pecuniary circumstances permitting, Halloween had moved along slightly so that there might be a few fake cobwebs on the pub bar (although in some of the establishments I used to frequent, fake cobwebs were unnecessary), and there might just conceivably be a rubber bat hanging forlornly from a piece of elastic tied to alight fitting.

That then, was Halloween in the UK through the '60s and into the late '70s.

And then came ET, the Extraterrestrial with the pre-junkie Drew Barrymore and the eminently strangle-able Elliott and, it all changed. Shortly thereafter, and with increasing intensity, Halloween took on an American feel and it was no longer safe to venture out after dark on 31st October without running the gauntlet of kids in plastic bin liners and paper hats demanding sweets with menaces. The only thing to do was stay in with the lights out watching telly, or go down the pub.

Nowadays, it seems to depend where you are. In South Cambs, for example, there seems to be an unwritten rule that if there is no pumpkin displayed in the house window, it is off limits and it remains undisturbed. This strikes me as eminently civilised. In South London, of course, it is entirely different.

Up to about 8-8.30 pm the kids and parents roam the streets in the crummy little costumes and have a bit of fun. Fine, I can live with that, provided I don't have to be involved. It's later that the fun starts.

I reckon that there should be a rule that limits participation in Halloween to 10 years old, though with some of the pre-pubescent, burger-fed brutes down our way, maybe 9 years old would be better. Certainly anyone older than that should know better than turning out and effectively roaming the streets in gangs demanding candy with menace. If they were after money, it would be illegal.

All I can say is that if I am 'trick or treated' by a teenager, they can look out for some response such as 'Let me introduce you to a friend of mine who I like to call, Mr Pepper Spray and this his colleague, Mr Mace.

I was toying with the idea of getting a taser, but I'm not sure they're entirely legal, despite the entertainment value.

Dance, Count Dracula, dance.

Halloween: A retrospective

When I was a kid, Halloween was a date on the calendar and not much else. We certainly didn't celebrate it in any particular way.

By the time I reached 18 and was old enough to hit the pubs of an evening, pecuniary circumstances permitting, Halloween had moved along slightly so that there might be a few fake cobwebs on the pub bar (although in some of the establishments I used to frequent, fake cobwebs were unnecessary), and there might just conceivably be a rubber bat hanging forlornly from a piece of elastic tied to alight fitting.

That then, was Halloween in the UK through the '60s and into the late '70s.

And then came ET, the Extraterrestrial with the pre-junkie Drew Barrymore and the eminently strangle-able Elliott and, it all changed. Shortly thereafter, and with increasing intensity, Halloween took on an American feel and it was no longer safe to venture out after dark on 31st October without running the gauntlet of kids in plastic bin liners and paper hats demanding sweets with menaces. The only thing to do was stay in with the lights out watching telly, or go down the pub.

Nowadays, it seems to depend where you are. In South Cambs, for example, there seems to be an unwritten rule that if there is no pumpkin displayed in the house window, it is off limits and it remains undisturbed. This strikes me as eminently civilised. In South London, of course, it is entirely different.

Up to about 8-8.30 pm the kids and parents roam the streets in the crummy little costumes and have a bit of fun. Fine, I can live with that, provided I don't have to be involved. It's later that the fun starts.

I reckon that there should be a rule that limits participation in Halloween to 10 years old, though with some of the pre-pubescent, burger-fed brutes down our way, maybe 9 years old would be better. Certainly anyone older than that should know better than turning out and effectively roaming the streets in gangs demanding candy with menace. If they were after money, it would be illegal.

All I can say is that if I am 'trick or treated' by a teenager, they can look out for some response such as 'Let me introduce you to a friend of mine who I like to call, Mr Pepper Spray and this his colleague, Mr Mace.

I was toying with the idea of getting a taser, but I'm not sure they're entirely legal, despite the entertainment value.

Dance, Count Dracula, dance.