Cold Citrus

Moat Park

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 20:58:00 +0100

It is a fact, even during an uncharacteristically good run of sunshine, the British weather can still conspire to wreck any outdoor plans. The weekend forecast had singled Tuesday out to be the hottest day of the week. By this morning it was revised to overcast, muggy and with a band of showers passing through in the middle of the day - the exact time the administration team were due to convene at the White Horse Wood Country Park.

At 12.30, and in a gathering gloom, we assembled at the top of Detling Hill. The rain picked up as we unpacked the food. After a failed scout for shelter, the park is new and lacks mature trees, we decided to relocate to Maidstone's Mote Park. After a clumsy convoy lead by Louise, who clearly had not grasped the concept that to guide meant to make allowances for those following, we arrived at the new venue. Food was consumed under a broad oak and we, for the most part, stayed dry. A short meeting of justification followed lunch and a short walk followed that.

After the morning's fun and games and pseudo disiplinary action it was a blessed relief to get out and relax. I managed to get a good chat with Eileen B towards the end of the walk and sought to find out why Nina had seemed so standoffish at the Acorn a couple of weeks ago.

Goodnestone

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 18:36:00 +0100

Took a short walk around Goodnestone today. Very pleasant.

Ye Olde Mitre

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 31 Oct 2005 23:48:00 GMT

Being in London today for a meeting I had an opportunity to visit and old friend. Tucked away behind the jewellers of Hatton Garden is The Olde Mitre. It's so 'olde' that it sits on the city's medieval street plan, halfway along an alley between Hatton Garden and Ely Court, with no frontage onto to any street. It can be found by walking 30 yards up Hatton Garden from Holborn Circus and turning right at an old gas lamp with a post bearing with a blue mitre. There is a photo on the above link. Most of the pub's original features have been retained, including antique pews and chairs. A polite notice asks customers not to move the furniture. There is fine oak panelling throughout the two bars and one at the rear boasts a snug area. If you didn't know better you'd never guess you were in the middle of London, the pub feels like its somewhere in rural Suffolk.

Two excellent pints of Deuchars IPA were enjoyed and, as the place filled up, we left. If ever you are are in central London and find your literal and sensory thirst in need of quenching, you can't do much better than this place.

I broke the tube journey back to Victoria with a wander along the Embankment near Hungerford Bridge. This induced a strange nostalgia, evoking the final scenes from Alfie. Even though the original film predates many of the modern riverside landmarks, like the London Eye, the view along the Thames here has a real cinematic feel to it, especially after dark.

Moleskin Semi-RIP

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 23 Oct 2005 01:36:00 +0100

I love my black moleskin jacket, in fact I've loved it to death since Nicky bought if for me two years ago. It's been to work with me most days, it's been to numerous smoky pubs and bars and it's enjoyed a few trips abroad, to France, Spain and back home to Italy where it was made. If I were honest I'd have to admit I've abused the garment, hanging it over chairs instead of hanging it up, ramming it behind sofas and in speaker voids to conceal it at gigs and stuffing its pockets so full of junk that the stitching has unpicked itself allowing the contents to disappear into the lining. Despite all this abuse it has served me well, kept me warm, dry and looked after the numerous possessions secreted in the pockets. Whilst I frequently lose items in it (I'm mocked for doing the 'pocket pat down' whenever I need to locate something) I've never lost anything from it, even when I've gone comatose on the train leaving Victoria right through to being woken by staff at Ramsgate over 2 hours later.

Today my trusty moleskin entered semi-retirement as I've bought myself a replacement. The new jacket is very similar to its predecessor, almost the same design, it feels both familiar and alien at the same time. I find that new coats and jackets are like shoes, they have to be worn in before one is fully comfortable with them, before they become fully part of you. The same cannot be said of a new shirt or a new pair of trousers, for these clothes the assimilation is almost instant.

The old jacket isn't going to the great charity shop in the sky just yet, they probably wouldn't accept it now, but will see active service whenever I want to affect a frayed or grunge look. Yes my old moleskin still has a few more dates to keep and it will no doubt be hearing a smattering of bands before its fully retired, probably from somewhere under a dusty staircase.

Electrical Storm

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 19 Oct 2005 21:07:00 +0100

Treated to a heavenly display better than any firework show as I drove the last 10 miles home from work tonight. Towering clouds stacked up in the fading light, translucent blue and grey with sunlight bursting through in places. Then great forks of lightening arcing across the horizon, persistent, erratic and completely mesmerising. There was no rain, no sound of thunder. As I sit here now its only just finished.

Official: Christmas Has Arrived

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 15 Oct 2005 23:47:00 +0100

I've long since given up calling the start of the Christmas season (because that's what it is now - a season) by the appearance of festive merchandising in the shops. These days there's always a rash of cards and wrapping paper in the shops before the August Bank Holiday is upon us which has taken the fun out of that game. About 10 or 15 years ago, when these early harbingers of yuletide first started displacing the reduced price barbeques from the shelves in August, you sensed the stores were almost coy about it and were in fact offering these early season goods in an ironic way. Not anymore. There are whole supermarket aisles set aside for 'seaonal goods'. These are currently crammed full of Halloween tat as well as the Santa stuff. Halloween is something else that's hyped out of all proportion now, 15 years ago it was nothing more than a feature on Blue Peter about making your own pumpkin candle. Ah, making things, remember that? It's right there with not using the car to avoid a 5 minute walk.

Anyhow I digress, as we've established, the shops no longer provide a reliable barometer to pinpoint the start of Christmas. I've now decided that the appearance of the first Christmas tree should be the new yardstick. This of course excludes those in shops, for sale or otherwise. As I've decided the rules here hotels, pubs and private residences are included.

So I can now reveal that Christmas officially started for me at 11.50pm on 14th October when, checking in at the Coventry Tower Hotel, my wife and I spotted a 7ft fake plastic tree in the reception area complete with shimmering integral lights.

Happy Christmas!

Summer Reprise

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 9 Oct 2005 20:30:00 +0100

Is it just me or has the weather gone a bit weird lately? Now when I say 'weird' I mean it in the pleasantly surprising sense, like someone who steals your car, valets it and then returns it a few days later (there was a real case like this a few years ago). The weather, at least here in Kent, has been unseasonaly warm now for the last three weeks. In feels more settled and has been consistently sunnier than it was back in August. It's reached the point where it feel I'm almost taking it for granted now and am not making the most of it. After all its getting to the time of year when it can't wait to get dark, the nights are drawing in quickly. Soon I'll be longing for the summer again, days when I can leave the back door open and really enjoy the garden.
In a few weeks I'll only be seeing this place in daylight at the weekends and, maybe, first thing in the morning before work. I must make an effort to work from home more often this Winter.

Thoughts of this imminent loss finally drove me outside today. The grass was duly cut, weeds were pulled and the roses pruned. Perhaps they'll bloom again before the first frost. It felt good, it felt like July on a slightly cool day, but July nonetheless.

Cool Citrus

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 8 Oct 2005 15:36:00 +0100

Nicky has just been shopping in Boots and returned with this amongst other things...

What an inspired name!

Misty's Big Adventure 3

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 29 Sep 2005 19:37:00 +0100

I don't believe I've ever seen a band three times in the same month before. It's been fascinating to see the set list change and to hear the acoustics at the the different venues.

After seeing them at the Jug Of Ale on Sunday the decision about tonight was already made, besides Kath would not have forgiven me for not going to this one, she'd missed out on Sunday's gig. I also presuaded the missus to come tonight as she was staying in London anyway. The venue this time was the Purple Turtle in Camden, a converted pub with a stage at right angles to the bar and an excellent balcony from which to view the proceedings. My friend Kath has already reviewed the whole evening here so I'll stick the Misty's performance for now.

Unlike in Birmingham, when they rattled through the whole of The Black Hole and then started taking requests, they did not have the luxury of the time (or the sound quality) that they'd enjoyed previously. I brought Nicky along with the promise that many of the tunes were catchy and that she'd be singing along in no time (she is a veritable lyrics sponge) but the sound was dense, the brass not as sharp and the vocals hard to decipher if you weren't already familiar with them. The exception in Nicky's case was 'Evil', the one tune I'd sneaked onto her Zen Micro, and the one number to which she really jumped around. Watching the gig with a non convert was interesting, she still locked onto tracks like 'Smart Guys Wear Ties' and 'Two Brains' with ease, a testament to the brilliance of the band. She told me afterwards that she'd mainly enjoyed watching crowd, and a very mixed crowd it was to. A tall smart guy with a suit and tie who was standing in front of sprung into life as soon as Misty's piped up with their signature tune and didn't stop until the last note faded into a mild ringing in the ear. He disappeared only once, during 'Smart Guys' to appear again on a small balcony, stage right, dancing with the Erotic Volvo. The set finshed too soon, techincal problems leaving them with only 50 minutes on stage, the encores being 'Wise Up' and 'Hey Man'.

One the great things about the venue was that the bands had to access the stage via the bar and it was good to see the support acts mingling with the crowd, and to see members of MBA watching the support. We saw Gareth and the Erotic Volvo, minus makeup and gloves, loitering below the balcony whilst Hypo-Psycho did their two tone/Green Day thing. We spoke to Gareth, standing by the stage and looking overwhelmed by all the attention, after the gig. He confirmed that there had been a few sound problems (they also broke guitar strings during the show and requested replacements from the support bands as they had at the Jug) but also that MBA would be attempting their Fall cover at the Elbow Room, Islington, as part of John Peel Day on 13th October. "Should I affect a Mark E Smith style or sing it as me?" he asked. "Sing it as yourself" we replied, "but add on a few -A's if you think if it makes you happier".

Cut n Shut Cake

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 25 Sep 2005 12:42:00 +0100

The missus and I found ourselves faced with a confectionery dimemna over breakfast this morning. Yesterday, whilst shopping in Tesco, I bought a selection of four cream cakes on impulse (and I'd been doing so well up until then). After scoffing two of the aforementioned cakes, just like some big fat biffa, I put the others in the fridge to be used for a sweeter than usual Sunday breakfast.

Now this morning we had a dimena. Nicky wanted the doughnut slice more than the chocolate eclair, akthough she wanted a taste of both. The only solution was for her to have 2/3 doughnut and 1/3 eclair and for me to have vice versa. The result being the cut and shut cake...

Misty's Big Adventure

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 19 Sep 2005 20:45:00 +0100

Went to see Misty's Big Adventure on Friday and it was fantastic. In spite of dire warnings that the venue (The Forum in Tunbridge Wells) would be full of fourteen year olds, it wasn't, I trundled along with my colleague Kathy to enjoy one of the best gigs I've ever been to. Although I've not been to many of late, I've been to a fair few in my time and this was right up there. I'm still grinning when I think about now and, before you ask, I was only fueled on the night by cider and Guinness.

The band, for those that don't know, are a nine piece collective of musicians fronted by deadpan vocalist, Grandmaster Gareth. They are accompanied throughout the set by performance artist, Sri Erotic Volvo, a dancer with blue pace paint, wearing a bright red romper suit which has stuffed blue gloves stitched all over it. There are some pictures here. When Sri leaves the stage to join the crowd you just have to interact with him. The next day Kathy found blue stains all over her white T shirt - well if she will insist on kissing the gloved one.

The band were on for an hour or so, limited by the 11 o clock curfew imposed at the venue, but in that time rattled through most of the excellent new album, The Black Hole. I was jumping around in a frenzy right from the opening song Evil, which Gareth announced was written and dedicated to George Dubya, through to the last encore, which was The Wising Up Song.

If you get a chance to see this band you'd be very daft to turn it down.

Last Day of Summer

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 4 Sep 2005 20:26:00 +0100

Today was, for me, officially the last day of summer. Just how did I determine that? It was probably the last day it was warm enough for me to take a dip in the sea. Rule of thumb (or numb) is that to take the plunge the temperature has to be 25C or above. Any less, while the sea may be bearable, even pleasantly warm, the getting out is anything but. Seeing that the forecast was going to be good, very good, for early September I grabbed my bike and took a long circuitous route to the beach. I started by heading away from the sea, towards St Nicholas, and after 1/4 mile on the A28 was exploring the tracks and paths that lead across to Hedge End. After crossing the Thanet Way on the footbridge I struck out for the beach. A suitable spot was located about halfway between Minnis Bay and Reculver. Glorious isolation.

Kid Free Coaches

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 26 Aug 2005 17:50:00 +0100

Having just been subjected to 2 hours of ear piercing screaming kids on the train from London the idea of child free coaches maybe going into the South East Trains suggestion box. Having had some experience with small children myself I'm exasperated at the lack of parental control demonstrated by other people. Leaving Victoria we started with items from the standard, and acceptable, passing scenery being identified quite loudly. "Look mummy. Bridge, River, Horse". Then between Chatham and Faversham things quickly descended into a cacophony of toddlers crawling and running round, yelling, fighting, wailing and then yelling some more. Actually this leg of the journey sometimes makes me feel like weeping as its dullness seems to extend the 30 or so minutes it takes. Now we're past Whitstable, with its glimpse of the beach huts and the sea, we seem to be back to "tree, horse, moo cow". There is still some screaming though, sadly they seem to be going to Westgate, one stops after mine.

Things That Shouldn't Be Funny #1

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 22 Aug 2005 21:18:00 +0100

Visiting Folkestone yesterday reminded me of a story I heard on the local radio a few months back. Whilst paddling on the beach next to the former ferry terminal I re-told the gathered friends and associates what I'd heard. Sitting at work today I wanted to find out if the story actually happened the way I told it and so searched on the BBC News Site entering the words... "Folkestone" "wheelchair" and "harbour". Sure enough the the first story back was this.

Now there's £250 from You've Been Framed gone begging, I wonder if anyone nearby had a camcorder? At least the story had a happy ending.

Almost Back to Work

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 21 Aug 2005 20:29:00 +0100

It's the last day before I return to work and I've had a good week off. I've been to Devon for my uncle's birthday shindig and then to North Wales for a crash tour - the usual mix of neolithic sites, castles and other curiosities. 1600 miles later I'm pleasantly tired and ready to sleep.

Today the week was rounded off nicely celebrating the first birthday of Kriss and Julianna's baby, Antoine. After lounging in their garden all afternoon, eating and drinking too much, everyone decamped to Folkestone beach to enjoy the evening sunshine. The weeks holiday finishing serenely with a very relaxing paddle in the sea.

The Crash Tour Starts

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 17 Aug 2005 09:53:00 +0100

Watford

Sitting at Col's place about to embark on the 2005 crash tour. More about what this is this later but basically the objective is to see as many places and sites in the time available. In about half an hour we are going to set off for Aberystwyth, thats the plan. It may, and probably will change, before we get there. We have until Saturday by which time we hope to be on Anglesey. In wonder if we can beat last years record of visiting 14 sites in two days?

The sun is out (it usually is for these ventures) and its time to go.

Peace and Quiet

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 12 Aug 2005 23:36:00 +0100

Apart from the noise eminating from my uncle's cottage its almost completely silent here. The only exception being an owl somewhere in the woods lower down the valley. I'd forgotten just how peaceful it is. I survived the Megabus journey and learned a few lessons on cheap coach travel into the bargain. Firstly make sure you have your hand luggage sorted from your holdall as this is taken off you and stowed at the rear of the lower deck along with the bigger cases. It was a last minute scramble to get the bits I needed for the journey. Secondly get there early. Although I got a window seat at the rear of the top deck my view of the outside world was through a mesh created by the Megabus logos plastered all over the bus. It gave me what seemed like a flys-eye view of the countryside which wasn't ideal as I love gawping out the window on long journeys. Thirdly, and this applies mainly if you get travel sick, sit downstairs. The top deck of the bus was swaying wildly from left to right as we sped down the motorway. I don't get travel sick but was still a little unnerved by the sensation.

After arrival in Exeter I lurked in the shadows, avoiding the Friday night piss up brigade who by 10pm were well on the way to starring roles in some CCTV reality show or other. My brother picked me up and we were off into the night. Another thing I'd forgotten was how little traffic there was in the countryside. In Kent, even at night, there's always a car coming the other way. In Devon there are still long gaps between them. Before long we were at my uncles place near Dolton, roughly in the geographical centre of Devon, and it was time to get unpacked and get drinking.

Megabus

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 12 Aug 2005 00:17:00 +0100

Until earlier this week I was going to a colleagues BBQ on Saturday. I was very much looking forward to this even though it would mean a lot of travel hassle (BBQ is in Bedford, I live in Margate, about 120 miles away). Its always interesting to meet the family, as it were, and to see people you normally associate with work in their natural environment. Luckily I won't miss out this insight completely as another colleague will be there and she has promised to fill me in as to how it all went.

The reason I'm not going is that I've been invited, with my mum and brother, to my uncle's birthday (and BBQ!) down in deepest Devon. I really enjoy seeing them and a few days at their place will be a tranquil, if not entirely sober experience. They really live in the proverbial "middle of nowhere", the nearest shop is 5 miles away and the nearest pub is a similar distance. The view from the kitchen window could easily grace an eggbox, its a pastoral masterpiece.

Getting myself there was proving to be the only problem with this venture. My problem being that the other members of my family are driving down tomorrow during the day. I've got to be at work as I'm already taking next week off. Time to hit the trainline.com and check ticket prices. As the journey is very short notice the best they could do was £70 for a single, so not an option at that price. Next I looked into National Express to see what they could offer. They had lots of coaches going to Exeter (where my brother could collect me) and looked good at around £21 for a single. Eager to save a little more money I looked at the option of a low cost operator and tried Megabus. Result! I've bought a ticket from London to Exeter costing a total of £11.60 which includes 50p booking fee and optional text message confirmation at 10p. Its ages since I took a long distance coach journey in the UK. The last time was back in 1987 when I used to travel to Leeds to see my girlfriend. It was quite grim being cooped up on the Rapide for five hours, I'll see how things have changed since those days and update the blog when I get back early next week.

Fowl Update

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 6 Aug 2005 22:33:00 +0100

Suffice to say that following my recent post on the subject of campaigning mailshots from Viva we succumbed and had Chinese crispy Duck with pancake rolls for tea tonight. Sorry.

Ducking The Issues

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 4 Aug 2005 15:38:00 +0100

A few months back my wife contributed to a charity campaigning against the mass production methods employed at commercial duck farms. It was a very worthy cause, 1000's of the hapless birds are crammed into huge sheds where they have no daylight, are unable to forage or demonstrate any other natural behaviours. When making the donation she rightly ticked the gift aid box, allowing the charity to claim back tax on her money. Unfortunately by doing this she unwittingly had her name and address circulated to other groups, with more vegan, or more militant agendas. The amount of direct mail from these groups increased, some of it very unpleasant. Now the fact is that neither of us are vegan, or even vegetarian. We are trying to eat less meat and when we do, to be more choosy about where we buy from. We are interested compassionate farming, food miles and quality but, at the end of the day we still eat meat.

The campaigning mail shots from Viva (the duck people) nearly backfired on them last night. The wife and I arrived home to find their latest leaflet waiting for her. She was quite hungry at the time and, unfortunately, a seed was sown in her mind - Chinese crispy duck from the take away! We've not had this in a few months and it seemed like a delicious idea. After a few moments we relented, not on account of duck welfare, we just had other things to do. Our aquatic friends have won a short stay of execution.

Wish U Were Here

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 3 Aug 2005 17:42:00 +0100

One of the best things about the humble text message is using them to tease your mates whilst you're on holiday. Sometimes there's nothing better than sending friends a "WISH U WERE HERE" message, especially when your recipient has no idea you are away from home. Being on the receiving end of one such message yesterday reminded me its high time I had a holiday. My friend Mike sent an SMS which read "GREETINGS FROM KITZBUHEL IN AUSTRIA". The text was accompanied by a little graphic of a plane, just to rub it in. I could have replied "and greetings from the office" but I don't think he'd have been that bothered.

Playing the holiday text game can sometimes backfire. Last October I sent a text to my mate Col whilst on holiday in Sicily. "Greetings from the Roman amphitheatre at Segenta" went my message, "It's deserted and we have the whole place to ourselves", it continued. Twenty minutes later came the reply, "Hello from Ayers Rock". Col had, of course, just started his month long world tour. Still he didn't get everything his own way, although this is not always a bad thing. "Greetings from Santiago" went the message three weeks later, "couldn't txt from Easter Island - no signal".

Nottingham Nights

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 28 Jul 2005 00:02:00 +0100

From time to time my work takes me to Nottingham and occasionaly theres an opprortunity to stay over and this in turn usually ends up with a fair amount of drinking. Just got back home in need of some sleep after a late Tuesday night and a very protracted train journey back tonight.

I thought I'd report on some of the drinking places I frequented. The night started with a wander out of the city centre and up the Mansfield Road to The Lincolnshire Poacher. The reason? Apart from its being a damn fine local pub it stocks lots of very good beer. The main draw on the beer front comes in the shape of Harvest Pale, a bitter that looks more like a lager in colour and tastes divine. Last time we were there they ran out halfway through the night which was not good, this time they had plenty of beer but sadly very few customers. A while after eating we realised that were the only people there.

Time to move on. Normally we head back into town but this time we were sidetracked into the Golden Fleece a few yards down the road. It had good beer, lots of customers and it was Open Mic night. As the evening progressed it emerged that most of those present were carrying concealed guitars and one by one they went on stage. We were treated to an excellent night of music with original material and lots of covers, the overall standard was very high. One guy doing a Bob Dylan set was particulary good, he had the sound spot on and his version of Working Class Hero made everyone sit up to listen. This pub will now be incorporated into the regular crawl (after some Harvest Pale up the road naturally) when I next get back up there If you're at a loose end on a Monday or a Tuesday then go listen to the Open Mic!

Closing time came around too soon and one of the best places to move on to is the Schnapps Bar in St James Street. This little gem, hidden away up a side passage has a late licence and its free to get in (just loiter by the door and wait for the staff to buzz you in). It's a long corridor of a bar which is set behind art deco windows and lit by neon lights. The music loud and, best of all, very eclectic. Everything from Basement Jaxx to Frank Sinatra and most points between. Theres usually a helping of Stone Roses, in fact it was hearing the strains of I Am The Ressurrection that first drew me in, moth like. Oh they serve lots of Schnapps as well as beer but you probably guessed that out from the name. The only downside is the lack of ventilation, lets just say you don't need to bother taking your own cigarettes. Other than that its 10/10.

Right its time for me to get some de-tox sleep.

Let's Parlez Starbucks

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 22 Jul 2005 17:50:00 +0100

Let's face facts, in today's global economy we all need to have at least some grasp of a second language. With this in mind, and as I'm feeling public spirited today, here is my quick guide to talking Starbucks.

Lesson 1: At the chief constable's press conference...

Example:
En Anglais: Police are looking for a small man.
En Starbucks: Police are looking for a tall man.

Now its your turn...
En Anglais: The customer apologised for not having any small change.
En Starbucks: _______________________

En Starbucks: Dave looked at the required by date and admitted to his client it would be a tall order.
En Anglais: ________________________

Congratulations! You have completed Lesson 1. More coming soon.

The Harvey Girls

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 21 Jul 2005 20:28:00 +0100

One of the joys of the web is the ability to bypass the traditional media and discover new music yourself. Add to that the ease with which you communicate with and buy directly from the artists and you've cut out the retail middle men too. Bliss. One band I stumbled across recently were The Harvey Girls, a charming couple, Melissa and Hiram, who hail from Lawrence, Kansas.

After downloading some of the MP3 files available on their site I decided to make a small donation to show my appreciation. Within a day I recieved an email from Melissa thanking me for my support. I included their track Parking Lot in my first podcast and soon enough a comment appeared from the band thanking me for my kind words and for including them.
And to think that when I first saw her name I thought I might be flamed for not getting their permission!

I recently had a spending splurge on music from the States and as part of that ordered both Harvey Girls albums to complete my collection, to fill the gaps left by songs not available on the website. I can report that the first parcel to arrive from the four orders I placed was of course from Melissa and Hiram, no surprises there! They shipped both the albums I'd ordered plus a copy of the new single, a thank you letter, a handwritten card and photos. It's a hard act to follow for the other artist I've directly ordered from.

Vigil

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 14 Jul 2005 11:41:00 +0100

Today we took part in the two minute silence for the victims of last Thursday's bombings in London. Just before noon people began to file out of their offices to gather in front of the building. There were many more people than I had expected and this really moved me. These occasions are not universally observed by everyone so being outside with like minded individuals increased the sense of solidarity. Our presence was very visible to passing cars and pedestrians and I hope it may have helped some of them to pause for thought. From where we were standing we could see passengers and staff at Sevenoaks station observing the slience. The sound of the station tannoy drifted across the road on the warm breeze, announcing the start and end of the silence. I was almost moved to tears.

Being in London this evening to watch a radio recording meant we were fortunate enough to be able to spend some time at the vigil being held in Trafalgar Square. I'll post my grainy mobile picture as soon as I'm able to. Full coverage of the vigil and details of the various speakers can be found here on the BBC news site.