I supply more photographs of my 'holiday'

Vanity!!!

We didn't, but only because it is illegal to take bulbs back to Canada and, as everyone knows, I am very law-abiding (apart from the whole hams)

I do not wish to view Rolf Harris' new works. Also, since when did he paint with his mouth?

I am on holiday

It has been "all over the gaff" on the internet front, but now I am in a place called Shop, and BT are offering me the internets for only fifteen British pounds for five days.  It is great! Last week we went to  Llandudno for a bit (i.e.  4 hours). It is quite amazing: there are over three (3) shops hiring out those mobility scooter things, and sometimes game old gentlemen get stuck in pub doorways trying to execute a three point turn. I do not have photographic evidence of that, but I do have other photographs. Here are some of them:

There will be more. Until then I remain, in this, as in all weathers,

NWM

I cannot blog

... Even though I would like to, because for some reason I have booked cottages and B&Bs without the internets for our holiday. iPhones are nice and that but not good for stuff with many words. And I making no comment about how many books I have read, etc.

I will try and post some photosnaps or something.

Pip pip!

NWM

I am back (briefly)

Hullo. I am not dead. I am just working.  It is quite fun but there is an awful lot of it, so I do it most of the time, e.g. at 6am in the morning and 10pm at night. On Monday, I am training some Chinese people via conference call at 9pm and at 7.30am on Wednesday, I am talking to a lady in "EMEA" (i.e. Europe, Middle East & Africa - all of which are very similar, I am sure you will agree.)

When I am not doing work, I am thinking about Ron Swanson, and really, that is all that matters.  When I am not thinking about Ron Swanson or work, I think about how on Wednesday night (10.45pm, Air Canada) we are leaving for London.

For one day I will yet again 'hang out' at the Canadian High Commission waiting for 4 hours for a temporary visa (because despite being a resident since 27 April 2011, the Canadian government are fuckwits and cannot send me the bit of plastic that allows me to fly in and out of Canada freely, like a free citizen of the world).  Last time I went it was pouring with rain, but they kept us all outside, me stuffed under my tiny lady umbrella like an elephant hiding under frisbee, and the man in front of me un-protected but for his quiff, which started to collapse after 23 minutes of drizzle.  They let us in, removed our computers and phones and left us in a waiting room with no clock and bars on the window with nothing to do but watch BBC1 on mute and wonder if we would ever get our passports back again.  We did, of course, and then I went to Montpellier where I stayed in a hotel that smelled of despair and drank lukewarm water out of a paper cup.

I am going to London because I am going on holiday.  Here is what we are doing:

Thursday: Canadian High Commission. Then a B&B. A nice one. That does not smell of despair.
Friday: Meet best friend for ladychitchat.
Saturday: Wedding. (Not mine.)
Sunday: Hangover. Dinner.
Monday: Pick up car in Kennington. Drive to North Wales.
Thursday: Go to Brecon Beacons.
Friday: Go to Bath.
Sunday: Go to Devon.
Monday: Go to Cornwall. Cycle about. Lost Gardens of Heligan. That sort of thing.
Thursday: Go to somewhere else.
Friday: Ditto.
Saturday: Not sure either.
Sunday: 10.50am. Fly back to Canada.

I am very fucking tired.  I hope I will sleep a lot. The other day, someone asked me where I was born and I couldn't remember.

What is going on out there in the world, apart from Cheryl Cole?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Pip pip!

NWM

I think about accidents I have been in

1. Ripped the back off my heel jumping out of a camp bed whilst pretending to be a chicken. Unpleasant scarring, makes foot size larger  (age c.14)

2. Had fingers slammed in car door by little brother.  Faint scar on 4th finger of left hand. (c. 7)

3. Had bit of wood with old nail in accidentally whacked in face by little brother. Faint scar on top lip. (c. 5)

4. Made eardrum bleed by picking up telephone at the same time as clearing out ear with ear-bud. Sudden movement of arm/shoulder pushed ear-bud into ear. Blood came out.  Continuing oddness; suspect partially deaf. (22)

5. Horse rolled over Triumph Herald on Knightsbridge. Car write-off, horse fine, rider fine. (c. 7)

6. Fell off a horse onto my head. Hospital overnight. There were strawberries. No external damange. (c. 17)

7. Fell off a horse onto my arse. Bruised/cracked coccyx. Couldn't sit down for weeks. (c. 13)

8. Locked in a communal garden in Notting Hill, I climbed over wall (approx 12 feet high) and jumped off, landing on my right ankle. Could not walk for weeks. Should probably have had a cast and/or surgery.  Am missing a ligament in right foot. (17)

9. Balanced too much shopping on the already-crooked handlebars of my bike in Amsterdam and fell off, twisting right foot the other way. Could not walk for weeks. Even the physiotherapist gasped.  (37)

10. Burns on forearms and back of hands from years and years of thinking my hands are made of asbestos.  Many amusing pale, browny-pink scars from wrists to elbows.

11. Stabbed my hand with a pencil.  Faint grey dot embedded deep in palm of left hand. (7)

12. Cut same finger in same place three times. Now have wonky left index finger. (21 - present)


I am sure I will remember the rest in the morning. Until then:

Pip "OW" pip

NWM