You Can’t Make An Omelette Without Breaking Some Eggs…

An unusual weekend was had in the end. After a truly awful Friday in which I sent myself to my room early with very little supper (it was either that or involve myself in a full blown row with my parents) Saturday passed without much incident and in the evening it was time to venture into that inconsistent place Worcester. I was to join Dom and his housemates for a session. I’d also said to Naomi that I’d make it along to see her perform as part of The Sunset Dancers in an Oriental Dance display at Worcester Arts Workshop… Continue reading You Can’t Make An Omelette Without Breaking Some Eggs…


Thanks to Marc for taking me out on Saturday and getting me good and drunk. It was great to catch up. We managed eight bars during the course of the evening and a variety of drinks that included an obligatory ‘Shady Character’ (don’t ask me what’s in them) at The Consevatory and a half-litre of bock beer that’s currently a guest beer during Easter at The Cardinal’s Hat. I was certainly in the mood for drinking and the only reason that the bock beer wasn’t super-sized was due to it’s being 7.2%! Due to the proliferation of very decent bars and the relaxed licensing laws it is now possible to have a decent night out in Worcester and happily there is now no good excuse to find yourself in one of the many unnecessarily poor clubs. Before Christmas my sister, Dave and I had wandered over to what was The Apple Tree in Lowesmoor, to find it has now become a very smart, comfortable and well-stocked bar called The Firefly. I just can’t believe it’s taken this long for the night life in the city to become interesting. Perhaps a lot of it is down to the University College Worcester finally being granted full university status as of last year. The city’s student population is only going to swell and so perhaps the appropriate thought it now finally being put into the place. Not before time but more importantly, not before I’m too old for a night on the town.

Vis-à-vis a Vignette on the Victorious Visiting of Vibrant Venerables

Had another great weekend (the last one away for a little while) with my mates Rich and Soneva in Newcastle-Under-Lyme. Rich has just taken that remarkable leap and bought a house. And what a nice pad it was too. The kitchen is big enough to cook, eat and dance about in (all three are just about possible at the same time) and the lounge is big enough to house a host of the most comfy and luxurious, black leather chairs you’ve ever seen. I even got my room with an emperor sized double bed. I was impressed.

Saturday’s rain defeated our attempts to go to the intriguing sounding Monkey Forest and bowling was booked up so we went to the movies and saw “V for Vendetta” which I quite liked and I now really want to read the original comic (or should that be ‘graphic novel’). I’d deliberately kept my expectations low as I’d heard it was being directed by the 1st AD from the Matrix movies and had been fraught with problems but it was quite exciting stuff with CGI explosions that actually meant something and a shaven Natalie Portman (no, not like that). A thoroughly glorious weekend and a long overdue visit but then often the best visits are!

La Grande Bouffe

And before you ask, no this nothing to do with porn, thank you very much. The weekend was an absolute triumph; veni vidi, er, I ate a lot. We’d all arranged to meet at Alex’s place and upon arrival, she and Soni continued their aggressive entertaining campaign which involves the guest being caught off-balance by the opulent surroundings before they are made as comfortable as possible and subsequently plied with as much good food as they can take (in this case upwards of six – count them – types of humous, pitta, salad and some lightly fried chorizo). My personal theory is that they plan to prevent all of their guest from leaving, it’s a sort of “Isle of Pleasure” surrounded by Canada Water, Surrey Water and The Thames. Later Alex, Dave and I crossed from the Pleasure Isle to the Spice Island, which is the girl’s local, to meet Meg and Kelvin fresh from their flight from Swansea (I use “flight”  in the sense that they were fleeing the place rather than they arrived in a plane). After a few drinks (two pints of Hoegaarden) we decided to eat before the party – here I made the mistake of assuming that The Spice Island’s tapas would be substantial. Three shrimps, five button mushrooms and a couple of olives later I was ready to (eat more, actually) party. We all piled into Alex’s car and drove down to Brixton stopping off for supplies (a bottle of Ernst & Julio Gallo Zinfandel and six Kronenberg – yeah, I was impressed…). On reflection the lack of food to weigh me down freed me up to bounce round Benj and Ros’ new place and talk utter rubbish at people all night. I also got to thank Dan’s girlfriend Audrey for the recipe she gave to Ros for butternut squash risotto with oranges that Ros and Benj prepared last for me last year. That had been the night that Ros had proudly shown off her electric peppermill with an inbuilt torch so you could illuminate what you’re seasoning, or would help you find your way to the fusebox during a powercut and leave a trail of spice to prevent you getting lost on the way back. Next morning in order to combat a terrible hangover (I blame the Spice Island) we bought in a Full English Kit and some Resolve (a but like Pro-plus with chalk). Dan was giving me a hand with cooking and we realised that since two men were tending more than one type of sausage and suitably attired (I was wearing an apron and Dan had his Russian hat) and everyone was waiting around expectantly, it was virtually a barbeque and so we armed ourselves with Kronenberg. After consuming bacon, sausages, scrambled egg, mushrooms, tomatoes, beans, toast and coffee Dave and I just had time to get our stuff together and head back to The Isle of Pleasure on the Northern Line (taking time to argue a few of the rules to Mornington Crescent) before the roast chicken was served.  This was accompanied by stuffing, bread sauce, potatoes, carrotts, parnips, peas,  gravy and a side salad washed down with twelvty bottles of good red. We finished off with ice cream (chocolate and black cherry) and a mini chocolate muffin. Everyone then seemed to feel that what was needed was a shot of lemon liquor but at that exact point I felt as if this would have been the wafer-thin-mint that exploded the fat man.


Getting Carried Away...

Being in the midst of the Six Nations at the moment and loving rugby as he does Dad was ready for England vs Scotland at Murrayfield this weekend. Rae was home for the weekend but was due to be whisked away to sunny Snowdonia for some hiking on Saturday. Not being able to bear her lucky England top going unworn and therefor rendering it’s good fortune void, Rae passed the talisman to Dad who clambered into it. I think we have a fairly good side at the moment who were thoroughly capable of a grand slam having seen off Wales and Italy comfortably. Scotland, to everyone’s surprise had made a strong opening impression but were supposed to be beatable – or so we thought. Solid team work and a faultless defence triumphed over the English to reclaim the Calcutta Cup and dad never really got to make the above face again in a match devoid of tries. I was annoyed with a Scottish team who deserved the victory yet had been unable to beat a lacklustre Wales the week before. Rachael was annoyed that she hadn’t been dressed in her England top which apparently would have made all the difference.