Author: mkingdon

What is an mkingdon? Well, it is a long story, but a simple one. I have an addiction to Walt Disney World and Florida, and have done little else but holiday there for the past ten years. Worse than that, I have written about it too,in the form of long and detailed trip reports mainly on The Dibb. Upon joining that site I had to choose a username. I chose mkingdom, with the obvious relation to the Magic Kingdom. However, I am cursed with less than perfect typing skills, and I actually entered mkingdon. So it all started there really, and people have come to know me as that, so I’ve sort of adopted it as my online identity. Behind the name is a late thirties Boltonian with two girls, and Louise, a wife. I work in IT/Web stuff, and endure it to the best of my ability. You can find me in various places online. You should follow me on Twitter, and I am facebooked up too.

Two and a Half Men and a Dog.

12/09/201112/09/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

How quickly we move from summer straight into winter. This isn’t really a comment on the atrocious state of the weather, as talking about it will only encourage it. The noticeable gear change from the theme of summer happens more or less overnight, as soon as the kids go back to school. (Apologies to those North of the border who operate in a whole different term time universe).

The programming on our TVs is the biggest indicator of this change, with the rolling out of “the big guns” like Strictly Come Dancing. The mere appearance of this in the listings brings sundown forward by at least an hour.

It was but five minutes ago that we were bathed in late April, early May sunshine, thinking this would mean a summer of hose pipe bans, frying eggs on car bonnets and water fights in the streets. Well, I suppose the rioting in early August qualifies as the water fights, and maybe the torching of several cars was just someone getting the egg frying terribly wrong? No doubt a hose pipe ban was in place at one point or other, which would explain why Cameron refused to roll out the water canons to disperse the rioters!

george michael — A worrying recurring theme

So we’re into the next regimented phase of the year, which for me means I’m back to making packed lunches every day for me and the girls. For a task that takes about two minutes I cannot begin to express my hatred of it. Well I did just begin, but you know what I mean?

Inevitably, folks now are mentioning Christmas, and it will only be a few short weeks until we hear the unwelcome strains of the usual crowd; Slade, Cliff, East 17 and George Michael. Hmm, why do all my blogs reference George Michael???

Both Louise and I, feeling the groundhog nature of the festivities would love to go away for the whole thing, just to do something different. We have done one Xmas overseas, and that was back in 2005/6, when we went to Florida (shock horror!) just after Christmas and stayed into the new year. It was brill.

It is a very different holiday in some respects to a summer jaunt, with evenings being downright chilly, but the “magic” is tenfold if that is possible, with the decorations and lights being simply second to none, apart of course from that one house we all have locally who turn their semi into a fairy light filled grotto for two months every year!! Classy.

With this distinct plunge directly into winter from summer, do not pass Go, do not collect £200, comes a very significant event of course on the 20th of September. It is an event that has caused great excitement in our household, and there will be much happiness and merriment upon that day.

Yes, the new series of Two and a Half Men is shown on Comedy Central. Sure, Charlie Sheen is no more, and it could all be pants with such a major change in the cast, but I have enjoyed all of the previous episodes so much that I am ever hopeful that it will continue to be genuinely funny, perceptive, filled with smutty innuendo and at times nice and silly too. Of course, with Ashton Kutcher now in the show, getting any and all of the females in the house to watch it with me should not pose a problem.

Oh yes, our new dog, Oli, comes home on the same day too!!

So all this talk of Xmas holidays is not a pre-amble to me announcing a surprise trip to Orlando for Christmas. Imagine for a second I had somehow embezzled or borrowed the required funds, then we have the fact that within a matter of days now, our family will be swelled with the arrival of Oli the Old English Sheepdog. Running off on holiday weeks after his arrival would be downright bad form, but hey, it doesn’t stop me dreaming.

However, dreams for next summer are absolutely valid and are in full swing! Oli will be housed with some willing (or unwilling) volunteer I’m sure.

The girls are now fully embroiled in the new school year, with Emily getting to grips with being treated quite differently now she is in sixth form. She has study (free) periods in her timetable, and the teachers seem to be treating them like the mini-adults they are I suppose.

Not having to wear a uniform now, has of course meant a minor shopping spree to increase the collection of jeans and tops so that she fulfills her required level of coolness. Readers of my trip report will not have missed that we spent fortunes in Hot Topic a month ago, but still it seems more clothes were required.

Rebecca is still trapped within her uniform, and like most pupils is trying everything she can to push the boundaries on what is acceptable whilst avoiding punishment!!

So with Oli’s arrival on the horizon it feels very much like the calm before the storm, with last week being quite uneventful really. It contained lots of work of course, in which I still have pretty much no interest other than how long it is until pay-day (too long is the answer). I know I am doing a really bad job of hiding my resentment that I have to spend so much of my time doing things I don’t want to.

This plethora of work is also impacting the old trip reportage with progress quite slow, and when I do get to sit down and do one, my brain feels worn out from all the stuff I don’t want to do, which is maybe making them not all they could be. C’est la vie. Folk are still leaving very kind comments, and when I look at the number of people reading them it is a little mind-blowing. If only they all paid a pound each????!!!

So a wandering, non event of a blog this week, no doubt a symptom of the current malaise, which is a state of mind, not a salad dressing. Next week will be the last blog pre Oli, and after that it will be chock full of mischief, cute photos and messy floors, and I’m sure the dog will feature too!

Onwards and…..well onwards really.

Till the next time……

Wham Bam….

05/09/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

This new stuff at work is proving to be fun. If nothing else it is reinforcing my theory that is absolutely possible to be really, really busy and bored out of your head at the same time. If anyone reading this does something for a living that they are truly interested in, and/or enjoys, then you are lucky.

Not having any real interest in what you do for a living is, I guess, a curse brought on by not having any sort of career plan whatsoever at any stage, and just sort of stumbling my way from thing to thing over the years. Beyond wanting to be a pop star, I had no specific ambitions to be honest, and this has resulted in me doing stuff which just best pays the bills over the years.

As the often prophetic George Michael once said many years ago…

“Do you, enjoy what you do? If not just stop, don’t stay there and rot!”

Alas it is not that simple my hirsute Greek friend.

This lack of burning career ambition and direction has also resulted in never really feeling properly qualified as “anything” in particular either. I hate being asked what I do for a living as I have no idea what to reply. A good all-rounder, or jack of all trades master of none are both suitable answers, which leave me with a constant feeling of just being about to be “found out” for the charlatan that I am.

All this woe is me stuff can easily be dismissed of course with a counter argument about earning “good money”, and not having to do anything like proper work, involving manual labour, cold weather and getting my hands dirty, all of which is true. I just wouldn’t mind getting up each morning to do something that I have a remote interest in, beyond hoping the job is still there so that we have somewhere to live, and holidays to go on.

This thinking is why I am in no way concerned about the girls’ life choices. Emily’s choice of A level subjects have almost entirely been driven by what interests her, and not what might take her to some career or other. She is doing Media Studies, Film Studies, Photography and English Literature. What she ends up doing next, I’m not too bothered, but hopefully it will be something that fits with her interests.

Rebecca too, having just selected her GCSE options, has chosen stuff that the fellows at Oxbridge may not deem to be academically “on message”. With Drama, Dance (yes there is a dance GCSE), Art and Music, at least half of her lessons will be things that she enjoys, which will surely help her get through the must haves such as Maths, English and Science etc.

Louise too is thinking of a career change, with a possible return to study at some point in the near future. All I need now is someone to match my current salary in return for me writing pithy, moany blogs and tweets, whilst travelling the US on some sort of eternal travelogue. Surely this isn’t too much to ask??

Until that happens, the charade of interest continues, attending meetings I don’t want to go to, talking about stuff that I’d rather not talk about, in places I don’t want to be. It’s all a bit of a game really, and one I don’t particularly care if I win or lose, as long as the salary hits the bank each month.

So yes, this (if you had not noticed) is the inevitable and annual return to work after holiday blues blog. A few more weeks of drizzle, crap traffic, and working weeks will have me re-conditioned back into the swing of normality again I’m sure. Until that time I reserve the right to be maudlin, gloomy and aggrieved.

Louise feels much the same I know, as she posted this morning her unbound joy of a wet, grey miserable Monday morning on the way to Rochdale to take pictures of stranger’s boobs. Nothing against, Rochdale or the boobs of strangers I’m sure.

I suspect we are not alone in our thinking, as any cursory glance at Facebook or Twitter of a Sunday evening/Monday morning will see a procession of protestations around the inevitable and unavoidable bill slavery that befalls many.

I shall take my half empty glass now and spare you any more of this self-pitying tosh, and hope that by the next update here I have something more jolly to share with you. I never said these would always be pretty….did I?

What did George Micheal know anyway, he also said…Do you love your monkey or do you love me?

I am ambivalent to my monkey George.

Till the next time…..

No, No, No, No, No….oh alright then Yes.

28/08/201128/08/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

So I picked up my glasses on the way home from work on Friday evening. After a very tough week, with some (even though I say it myself) pretty spectacular political shenanigans from me to save one of my team’s job, (they will never know how much they owe me!!), I did what is termed an “early dart”, and was back in Bolton for 5.30, without any form of guilt at all.

Having paid a whopping £2.60 for an hours car parking, I was in the shop for around twenty-seven seconds and back at my car throwing away the ticket, and trying not to be too angry at the vast loss of earnings.

I then spent all evening at home, waiting for someone to notice my change of eye attire. They didn’t. Should I commit such a heinous crime when Louise has three hairs dyed a half-tone lighter, and I am on tongue and cold shoulder for the next three weeks. The reason Louise didn’t notice was that she was stamping her feet, and berating me to get her own way. This was not for the granting of bodily pleasures, even though Lord knows they are worth berating for, but rather a new dog.

You will know of our Henry and how we said goodbye just a few weeks ago. So we have been enjoying a little less stress in our lives, as much as we miss the old bugger, and so the thought of a new puppy and all that entails did not strike me as an attractive option. However, to add complexity to this situation, this new dog request is fogged with the air of guilt, as we (for that read Louise when tipsy) promised Emily a dog if and when she did well in her exams.

It was just my luck then, that this week brought results day, and one way or another, Emily getting the results she needed to get into the sixth form at her current school, to do the A levels of her choosing. Drat and double drat. The nerves felt on Wednesday night and on the way to school on Thursday were palpable, and Emily was a little jumpy too. She didn’t break any records with her results, and didn’t pass her Maths, but this is a Williams family tradition as we’ve all had at least two goes at that one. But come September, she will start four A levels, Media Studies, Film Studies, Photography and English Literature, whilst re-sitting Maths soon. Those A level choices will give you a hint at Emily’s strengths, which like mine, are some several miles away from Maths!!

All this cleverness and success meant that we were sort of backed into a corner dog wise. However, my objections, based on wee, poo, stress and in no small way expense, were aired all Friday evening, and we went to bed agreeing to disagree. By that I mean Louise and I, who wants a new dog more than Emily!!

There was a nice break from hostilities on Saturday as we cleaned for a good few hours in the morning, in preparation for some guests for the weekend. Steve and Di, my oft referenced DVC friends, and colleague (Steve, not Di) were coming over. We had a lovely time, with a lunch at home, with lots of chat around our recent holiday, and Di’s upcoming one, followed by what I believe is termed as a “run out” in the car.

We drove to Whalley, where we had posh coffees in Benedicts, and then allowed Louise and Di to wander the many posh frock shops. Purchases were made, the full extent of which I am too yet fully appreciate. It was on this wandering of Whalley that I saw for the first time, the full extent of my new reactor lenses. I know that sounds all James Bond like, but I had opted for some new fandangled lenses in my specs which turn all dark when the sun shines.

I am yet to be convinced of their aesthetic value, although the lack of squinting is appreciated. Having seen myself in a shop window, I was a little taken aback, as I do look a little…how can I say…..mentally impaired. I hope I can get used to it.

Later in the afternoon we had a drive to a local country pub called The Strawberry Duck for beers, wines and shandys, as this was a watering hole that Steve and Di frequented before they defected to North Yorkshire at the turn of the century, and is pretty local to our house. A lovely day all round. Now what could possibly improve a day like this? Well, food! We ventured to a Greek restaurant in Horwich called Sokrates. Louise and I had a Mezze, which consisted of lots of little bits of lots of things. After a lovely meal, with great company, we headed home, and promptly when straight to bed!! Rock and roll!

So after a lot of sleep we all eventually woke up, and wandered to a local Deli for brunch. Yep, more food.

Steve and Di left us at around lunchtime, when Louise immediately resumed the head pecking about the dog. Now, you know I wear the trousers, am boss of the house, say what goes, and absolutely would not bow down to this childish miethering.

So, meet Oli, our new Old English Sheepdog puppy.

Oli the Old English — You had me at peeing on the carpet

It is all against my better judgement, but after foolishly agreeing to just go and look, it was no shock to see us leave with one reserved, and a new arrival at the Williams household in about four weeks, once he is old enough.

Emily has chosen the name Oli (after Oli Sykes, who is some tattooed screamo bloke). Promises have been made about looking after it, and all that stuff, and we will see of course. Emily also said she’d help!! I have my “I told you so ” face readied with a smug rating of 100.

We went to a breeder near Barnoldswick, and spent a good few hours, first getting to know the Grandad (of the puppy), who is HUUUGGGEE, but lovely, and then playing with the last two brothers of a litter of eleven. The Mum made an appearance too, and we had a long chat with the breeders, to the point that we were happy with them. Emily eventually made the selection from the two, and I drove home with happy females in the car. It’ll never last.

So we’ve had a busy old few days, with GCSE results, glasses, visitors and silly decisions to buy a puppy, so this will explain partly why there has been little or no trip report action recently. I hereby promise to do one tomorrow with not being at work and stuff.

Our eating has not improved in any way this week, with a meal out on Thursday to celebrate Emily’s success, and weekend of indulgence with Steve and Di. Must do better.

Till the next time…..

Glee, Glasses and Gluttunous Guzzling

21/08/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

So the first week back at work is over, and we are all agreed that we desperately need a holiday. The seemingly unending monotony of real life stretching out before me is proving a large mental hurdle. This was not helped by yet more changes at work upon my return which means now I have even more to do and more folk to “look after”. Naturally a mahoosive pay rise was also forthcoming you say? Alas, no.

So I was quickly plunged straight back into normality, when all I was hoping to do this week was concentrate on sucking my belly in, clearing my Inbox of the shite it attracted whilst I was away, and hatching a plan for the swiftest return to Florida possible .

We are all simply missing Florida a lot.

I have, as you probably know written a few days up of the trip report, and bloggage shall remain brief whilst that continues, as one thing I am not blessed with right now is an abundance of free time. The girls are, and they have remained more or less nocturnal since our return, with their bodies seemingly stuck on US time, or maybe it is just normal teenage behaviour?

For some reason, two out of three females in the house have changed their hair colour this week. Louise started the trend with a visit to the hairdressers to pay a no doubt scandalous amount of money for the priviledge of going brown again. Rebecca soon followed, but thankfully, with a home made effort. She has also made a move back towards her natural colour, which is a relief in some way, as the upkeep of the blonde look was financially painful. I have no idea how long this look will last, and no doubt this will make Emily want to make a change too!!

Beyond the horrors of work, I have not a lot else to report for this week. After two weeks away, and having not cooked once during that time, apart from the odd piece of toast, I do feel slightly guilty at the amount of takeaways we have done this week. I always give us at least one week post holidays to allow our bodies to acclimatise to a more normal level of calories per day, so the week ahead shall be a little better, I hope.

Oh yes, a major breakthrough last week. After around six weeks of trying, three false starts and a lot of moaning, we finally got a plumber to the house to undertake some bits and bobs that have been outstanding for ages. Our drips leak and moistness are hopefully a thing of the past.

This weekend has been chock full of not a right lot really.

On Friday evening, the girls went to see Glee 3D, so Louise and I went out for tea, as cooking has not been high on our lists this week. We visited Spice Valley in Bolton, and very nice it was. We could tell that we have just come back from our holidays for a couple of reasons.

1. I was expecting regular and free refills on my Diet Coke.

2. As always we over ordered, but managed to eat the lot without too many problems.

Heeding the adverts advice, today I have indeed been to Specsavers to select a new pair of glasses, and have my first eye test for over five years. I felt it was time! No massive changes in my blindness, and the new set are ready next week. Next, on the clean up of things that should have been done ages ago is the trusty Mondeo getting a service next week.

This is like a lifestyle spring clean in August!!

Lord knows what next week will bring at work, and I have to say, that my level of enjoyment, and excitement at the prospect of work has moved down a notch or two further if that were in any way possible. I suspect this is much to do with the return from holiday, but not wholly. Next Thursday is GCSE results day for Emily, and I’m sure things are unlikely to be straight forward. I’ll be taking her to school to get them to offer praise, congratulations, advice, and condolence in whatever measure required.

I should also offer a thank you to all the folks who have recently started to follow me on Twitter. I surged majestically past 300 followers in the last week, which is both brill and incomprehensible.

Till the next time…..

Meh!

14/08/201107/06/2020 by mkingdon, posted in Walt Disney World

Just a brief post to say we are back home. We’re all knackered, Emily is still in bed, with her body clock all over the place.

My mind is making the slow and painful transition from Florida to reality, and with every “normal” activity it gets worse. I’ve just done the BIG SHOP, and all I will say is that doing that at Asda feels very different to the supermarket shopping we have done in Publix and Walmart!!

The full horror of work awaits tomorrow, and having made the woeful mistake of glancing at work emails on my phone whilst away, I know of some of the dross that awaits me. Joy!

As for the trip itself, it was excellent, and we have had a superb time. Yes, we missed Disney, and the holiday certainly felt different for the lack of it, but there are holidays to come to fix that of course. So in the absence of a lottery win, or an imminent chance of moving to the US, real life begins again. Meh indeed!

I will try to make a start to the trip report over the next day or so. First job is to get all the photos and videos loaded up ready to go.

Till the next time….

The world can’t end till we’ve been on holiday.

24/07/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

Some weeks it can be difficult to find topics of sufficient interest to document here. You will no doubt have noticed such weeks!

This week has been different for two reasons –

1. This week has lasted about seventeen years

2. It has been a week full of quite incredible world events including corruption, massacre and self-destruction.

To address point 1 first. My God, last week at work dragged. I discovered that it is indeed possible to be both busy and bored out of your skull at the same time. Towards the end of a countdown to a much longed for break, the final throes can be wearisome, whatever you are doing I suppose. The fact that I don’t like what I was doing made it much worse.

Rebecca finally finished school on Friday, and she too can be bored at home alongside Emily, who has been doing that more or less since May. Speaking of Emily, this weekend saw the celebration of her imminent sixteeness with a gathering of friends who got together to make my living room look untidy for a while.

The chosen theme for the celebration was Laser Quest. A little odd for your typical sixteen year old girl, but I suppose she isn’t really. So Saturday afternoon saw two jam-packed cars make the journey to the Trafford Centre, where we deposited them for a couple of games whilst Louise and I wandered picking up those last-minute essentials. For me, this meant underwear. I apologise for those having eaten recently, or intending to do so ever again, but this needs covering (I mean the topic!!).

Now, when you are forty and flabby, and you need under garments where else would you go other than good old M&S? Me too, but despite several trips around the mens department, I left empty-handed. Not one pair of attractive briefs could I find. So we wandered, a lot, to other fine establishments only to be denied by a total lack of undies, undies that were simply ridiculous thongs or those overly tight trunk things, or sheer expense. Only two people alive see my underwear so anything costing more than roughly a pound a pair is simply a crazy extravagance.

We left the place sans briefs and Louise got me some from Asda later that day.

jason bateman — I bet he buys briefs from Asda too.

Whilst we sought underwear, and other bits and bobs, the girls shot at each other, and we met them at 5.30 to take them back home so they could take over our house. Takeaways all round, and we left them to it whilst we went to the pictures with my brother, sister and law and niece to watch Horrible Bosses. It is very much in the vain of Hangover and Bridesmaids so I was looking forward to it. Plus, Louise fancies Jason Bateman, so it was a simple choice. I enjoyed it, and it is entertaining enough for a Saturday evening. And yes, Pick n Mix happened.

We returned around 11pm, did the birthday cake thing and then fell into bed, and listened to the girls make too much noise until the early hours. This is a tradition on these birthday sleepovers.

Candles — A little less sixteen candles....

Along side all this business, we have completed other pre-holiday essentials, such as cleaning the oven, mowing the back lawn (not a euphemism), and this evening I shall be cutting my toenails. No stone is left unturned in our preparation and planning. We have even had Louise’s mum round for tea tonight, so we’ve been busy. This is a good thing, as time has moved along nicely. I fear Monday and Tuesday at work may not. In those two remaining work days for me, I have checked my diary, and it seems that out of two full days at work, I am not in meetings for just over 100 minutes. So add-on a few minutes to neck a sandwich and I am in one big meeting until I finish for holibobs. I can’t decide if this is a good or bad thing. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

On to point 2 (remember?). Wow, what a week. It does seem that the world is quickly crumbling around us. Everything and everybody is corrupt, and because of that papers like the News of the World are no longer around to report upon the absolutely atrocious events in Norway over the past few days. However what is totally incomprehensible is that the death of a drug and drink addict, at her own hands, supersedes all these events on the news and in the newspapers!! Have we really elevated so-called celebrities to such exalted heights that this is acceptable.

Some smacked up singer takes one shot too many, and finally fulfills her destiny, and over 90 kids getting massacred is relegated to the middle of the paper? Really? Are we happy with this? My ghast is completely flabbered at this, and as this blog isn’t meant to deal with the heavy stuff, I’m not going to go into this any further.

Finally, in a week of head shaking, and wondering what the world is coming to, I was contacted by a fellow Dibber, Emma Smith, and asked if I could help spread the word about a special cause. Whether it is a pitiful attempt by me to somehow try to compensate for the absolute and unending decay of civilisation, or just something any decent person would do, I’m not sure and I don’t care. I could not say no, so I hope you don’t mind me pushing this here.

So, as this thread explains, Emma needs help to raise £2000 for treatment for her baby Max. The fact that she is having to raise this cash for this treatment, rather just get it on the NHS is another ghast flabbering body blow. Please, take a moment to read the thread, and if you can, donate at the just giving page.

As my ranting seems to have reached new levels both here and via other social media outlets, it prompted someone to say to me on Twitter, that it sounds like I really need a holiday. I’ll second that. So Tuesday is special in the week upcoming. My eldest daughter turns 16, and we’ll have a small family gathering to mark the occasion. Secondly, it marks me finishing work, and the start of our next adventure to the US. A good day all round. I would advise anyone to stay clear of the bright red Mondeo heading from Salford Quays to Bolton at around 6pm on Tuesday. I will be taking no prisoners!!

So it is farewell for now. We have a long journey ahead of us this week, and we should be stateside sometime on Thursday barring disasters and delays. You are spared further rantage for the short-term!! I hear you sigh collectively. However, there may be a little Twittering so if you don’t already, you could follow me were you to be clinically insane and in need of vitriol and bile via your computer.

Till the next time…..

It was The Antiques Roadshow that made me do it m’lud.

17/07/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

You may well have witnessed me rant on several occasions (I could stop this sentence right now and it would be true but I shall clarify further), about the insulting nature of mass market Saturday night TV. Fear not, I am not going there again. Nope, instead I balk today at the insulting nature of mass market Sunday night TV.

I am couched at this very moment wrapped in the cloying banality of The Antiques Roadshow. If television were a pair of corduroys then this programme would be them…..in beige. It is the epitome of middle class, Sunday evening, have a small sherry, Daily Mail reading, cardigan bedecked, tartan slipper wearing (checks own feet, it’s ok mine are blue), Giles Brandreth liking niceness that is served up every week, all year round it seems, to remind everyone that the weekend is nearly over, and we are all about to be hurled back into the hell of a new working week.

Preceding this, Songs of Praise is about as enjoyable as Aled Jones is svelte. Not very. I haven’t looked but I will bet my love handles that later on ITV will be some retro fitted milder than Korma storylined dross set somewhere oop north, starring someone who used to be in Eastenders. Nope, I lie, it is on NOW!!! The Royal. This is the bastard love child of Nick Berry and Tricia Penrose, and is about as intellectually challenging as a Rubik’s cube with all the same coloured stickers on it.

Please, Mr TV executives, let’s shake things up a little. We don’t HAVE to vote for things on a Saturday, and we really, really don’t have to be averaged to death on a Sunday night either. If it were not for Sky+, I would be roaming the streets of Bolton with a sawn off shotgun taking people out for watching Countryfile.

That said, if you didn’t know, in just over a week, I will be subject to American TV for just over two weeks. This parade of adverts, separated by the odd punchline or news story is quite novel for someone like me, visiting for a short while. I suspect if I lived there, I would be roaming the streets of Orlando with a sawn off shotgun taking people out for watching the Appliance Direct advert.

So has there ever been a more tenuous set up to get onto the subject of my holiday? Probably, about this time last week.

Preparations continue, most come with a cost, namely Louise braving the Trafford Centre on a very wet and windy Saturday which meant that everyone within a fifty mile radius of the place had decided to do the same. She returned with some clothes, which will now mean that we can go the entire holiday without looking at or purchasing any further items of clothing right?? Right???

This weekend I have gotten my planning folder out (yeh, like you don’t have one too) and been through everything from where we are sat on the planes (all four of them) to doing a Google streetmap view of our Travelodge hotel near Heathrow. Worryingly, it isn’t actually finished on the street view thing, but I am hoping things have moved on since then!!

Regular readers of this and the oft referred to trip reports will know that I undertake a strict health regime prior to holidays to ensure I arrive in the sunshine state with a body like Ricky Martin. No, sorry I meant Rick Waller.

This year, I am shredding. I am spending twenty minutes every day with Jillian Michaels in my bedroom, and at the end of it I am sweating and out of breath like you would not believe. I’ve been at it now for over twenty days, and as you can probably envisage, I am ripped and toned in a way you can only dream of.

This DVD is a toughie. It isn’t one of your Davina (insert any other minor celeb DVD released each January) put one foot in, one foot out type namby pamby nonsense. No this is hardcore torture, so much so that I have been limping for the best part of two weeks having done untold damage to my left ankle on about day five. Being ever so slightly OCD about doing this every day for the thirty days required, I have somehow soldiered on with a mix of determination, grimacing, ice packs and ibuprofen.

The injury is getting better now, and I’ve able to give it full welly again.

So, I enter my final full week at work. It is funny that having endured so long since booking, these final few days feel like a lifetime. Up until now the remaining days have nothing silly in them, like trips to London or other such strange places. They are just filled with the usual mixture of banal meetings, and regular disasters to resolve.

How I shall feel a week on Tuesday at around 6pm as I drive home I cannot put into words. If you hadn’t guessed this is when I finish. It is also Emily’s sixteenth birthday, so a double celebration will be had that night.

So next Sunday shall be last bloggage for some time I suspect. With the writing of trip reports to get done on my return, I may suspend bloggage for a time so that I can get that done as quickly as possible. We’ll see how that works out I suppose.

I’m off now to put my foot through the TV before Fiona Bruce gets any more smug.

Till the next time…..

Proms and Pre Trippies

10/07/201110/07/2011 by mkingdon, posted in dibb, mkingdon

Another milestone came and went this week, not only in the countdown to our holiday, but in Emily’s high-speed non stop journey to adulthood.

Thursday was Prom night, and in one way or another we’ve been building up to this for quite some time. Those with good memories will know that we bought Emily’s dress some months ago, and those with a sympathetic nature will recall my recent horror and devastation when buying the shoes that went with it.

Luckily, Louise’s day off each week is a Thursday, so this meant that it was the ultimate girlie day, with visits to the hairdressers, and about four hours of getting ready. For once, for me being at work wasn’t the worst place to be. Rebecca chipped in by helping out with the make up, and by the time I got home at around 6pm, stress levels were high, and the house was full of dressed up teens, and a large collection of relatives, who all turned up to get the photos and wave them off. The departure point was our house of course!

However, stress and crowds aside, the end result was impressive.

I have to say a formal thank you to my sister in law’s brother (no idea what the official title for that is!) for providing the transport. I shall just say he works in the motor trade, and was able to select and drive a suitably glitzy Mercedes. Really nice of you Dave, cheers! So we waved them off at around 6.30, and I shall award absolutely no prizes whatsoever for guessing who was due to go and pick them up at the end?

Yep, the trusty old Mondeo is fine for picking up under cover of darkness! The scenes outside the venue at around 11.30pm were a little chaotic, with a mixture of the tired and emotional, hyper and those simply more than ready to get the tight dresses and crippling shoes off, and that was just the boys! My pick up party emerged with balloons, a photo or two and smiles, so all seemed well.

As the last few moments prior to them leaving had been, quite frankly, a chaotic nightmare with seemingly hundreds of grown ups all over the house taking photos and giving out hugs, I made Emily pose for a photo or two more when she got back, hence the darkness outside on this one, taken in a spot familiar to many of you.

I could not be more proud of Emily. Beautiful, sensible, funny, bright and far too good for any male on the planet!

The sight of the second most famous door in the country (the other one has a 10 on it), brings me onto the darn right imminentness (yes, it is a word) of our holiday now. That very same door will be seeing more photo action in just over two weeks now, in the traditional start of the holiday pose that the girls enjoy so much!! This led me this weekend to put fingers to keyboard and squirt out the pre trip report for this year’s jaunt. I always say that I don’t quite get the concept of these, but I had a go anyway.

I think everything is now in place, with the dollars ordered and received, and all the relevant paperwork printed off and stored in my special planning folder. You see, if I am not careful I run the risk of making myself sound a little sad here. I care not. A colleague of mine said to me this week that my approach to holidays is “out of the ordinary”. I think he wanted to call me a sad OCD freak, but as he works for me he probably thought better of it.

I stand by my obsessive planning, as these trips are not normal holidays. They are for folk who actually enjoy doing a lot of the DIY booking stuff, researching things for hours, and then making an informed choice. They are not your one trip to Going Places and forget about it till the airport type things. Well they aren’t for us anyway. Writing the pre trippie this week reminded me just how much work goes into the planning and research, never mind the mind bending amount of actual work to get the money to fund them!! This adds months of enjoyment of course, if you are that way inclined (and I am), but it can also add a large amount of pressure to the holiday. After all that hard work you can be so wired about the whole thing that you forget to enjoy the bloody thing. Don’t worry, I think I’ve cracked that one by now.

I will not be the only liked minded soul to cast a thought to a holiday for next year, before this years has even taken place.

As we get this close, it gets to stage where you don’t even mind weekends slipping by, as you know it is all gravy in the snail-like countdown to lift off. Weekends now are spent buying the last few bits of clothing required by each of us. In my twenty year rotation of the shorts collection, I have completed the usual addition of a couple of pairs this year, and will make the heartbreaking decision as we pack which two will be left behind. It will be a heartbreaker, we’ve been through so much together.

Yes I know it is simply amazing that the same shorts still fit me after so many years. It is simply a matter of eating right and regular exercise. You know those two come naturally to me.

We’re entering the home straight folks. It will drag more than a Coldplay gig, but it has to get here sooner or later. I may become unbearable between now and then, particularly if you work with me, and don’t appreciate daily updates on the number of days remaining. Steve, I apologise here and now!

Till the next time……

Henry

03/07/201103/07/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

It has been a very sad week in our house.

On my return from London, literally as I walked into the house, my mobile rang, and it was a tearful Louise, at the vets with Henry, telling me that the vet had advised that it looked like time to let him go. I had the thankless task of telling the girls and bundling them into the car so that we could go and say goodbye at the vets. From that point on, tears have been an almost constant from someone in our house until, well, about now. Saying that last goodbye and going through what needed to be done to send him to sleep was something Louise and I will both never forget and hopefully never have to repeat. The girls were obviously in absolute bits!!

Fourteen years is a long time, as we got Henry when Rebecca was just a few weeks old. Having two children under eighteen months old was obviously not stressful enough for us, and we added in a hyper active puppy for good measure. From that day on he has been one of the family. He has of course driven us mad at times, from eating numerous dummies, which involved me chasing him around the house with one in his mouth, to the fun of reading the foam letters in his poop, after he had pinched them from the bathroom and added them to his diet.

As the years went on, he developed a penchant for going for a wander, and when an open door presented the opportunity he would go for a walk all by himself. The most legendary of which saw him make it the two miles down the road to my Mum and Dad’s house, crossing several major roads, and managing to find their house and sit at the back door waiting to be let in!

He was clingy, whiny, and in later years snotty, but the sudden loss of him hit everyone like a hammer on Wednesday night, and every time we look around expecting him to be there it hurts a little more. The first time we came home and didn’t have him at the door wagging his tail was another punch in the guts, and the tears came again.

He has been a terrific dog with the girls, growing up together, never once showing any sort of anger or aggression to either of the girls despite some rough treatment in their very early years. He has also welcomed and tolerated a procession of other animals into our house over the years, from other dogs, a plethora of cats, a rabbit and the odd guinea pig. He had a wonderful nature.

It is impossible to capture in a brief post here the impact he had on our family, and the hole he has left behind so I’m really not going to try. The stark realisation that he won’t be around again is a tough one, and it is sinking in very slowly. Apologies for the very dry, straight forward and brief entry this week, but it is the very least the little bugger deserved to have a one of these to himself.

Henry, my mate, thank you for all the years you were with us, all the laughs and joy you provided, and the loyalty and unconditional love you gave us. Wherever you are now, you are hopefully at rest and pain-free. You will never be forgotten.

Sleep well Henry. We’ll really miss you.

Till the next time…..

Putting holes in my kids

28/06/201128/06/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

So I missed my usual Sunday time slot. You might have spotted that?

Right now you find me on a train, enduring the luxury of First Class, so I have the internets at my disposal, and an impending breakfast on its way. Such madness as the expense of First Class travel to London is unusual, as quite rightly we are expected to travel cattle class at all times. However, due to some quirk of the system, First Class was cheaper than cattle at the time I wanted to go. Result.

So after two minutes of typing and staring at my laptop, whilst my body lurches from side to side courtesy of the Pendolino, I now feel a little queasy. Fear not I shall soldier on, as if I don’t get this done now, the rest of the week is more than spoken for.

So as I type Emily is on her way to her final exam, and what a mighty relief that will be for all concerned. It has been a long six week slog for her, and anyone else in our household, as you will know from my oft documented travails around the R word. Her reaction to most exams has been favourable, so now we wait until late August to find out what lies in front of her for the next couple of years.

Whatever happens results wise, she has, to be fair, put a decent amount of work in, and I suppose that is all you can ask. Regardless of the letters printed on her results slip, we felt that she deserved some reward. However, Emily has been holding us to a promise made (by Louise I must add) after perhaps one glass too many of an Old English Sheepdog. As you know, we are short of a pet or two, so this is just what we need. I have denied all knowledge of any such promise all along.

Knowing that she had me on the back foot, recently she has been gunning for another option, which was to have her lip pierced. Every fibre of my body rejected the very idea of defacing her face, but Louise worked on me, and when compared to the dog option it seemed fair enough. So last Thursday she went to get done. As holes in your face go, it looks nice, and Emily is delighted with it, which I suppose is all that really matters. Not to be left out, Rebecca had her belly button done too, again as a reward for efforts valiant, and to cheer her up as last week saw all her friends, and boyfriend go on holiday at the same time, so she has been facius mopius around the house, clutching her phone like some sort of life support device. Thankfully, folk return today.

Our old pal Henry, our cocker spaniel, is feeling his age a little, and at 14, it is to be expected of course, but I fear we are entering the home straight with him now. Our friends Steve and Di are visiting this upcoming weekend, and they, as his surrogate parents, will spoil him beyond all bounds I’m sure as usual, which might perk him up a little. It is hard when it gets to this stage, as we have had Henry as long as we have had a Rebecca, so he truly is one of the family. True, Rebecca does not lick her backside and eat grass as far as I know, but we can’t hold that against him!

So I have two days in our London office to do, and as I can smell the breakfast, and the swaying of the train is causing me to feel like I do when I have just stepped off of Manta, I will draw this hurried entry to a close. By the way, if anyone sees the dollar rate surge in the next few days give me a shout?

Till the next time…..

A weekend with the Rug Doctor (not a euphemism)

19/06/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I have fallen out with Tesco this week. I don’t think their CEO is losing sleep over this, but he should if he realised just how much Louise is capable of spending in one of his shops once she gets going. When they have to announce a profits warning in the coming months he will rue the day he fell out with me I’m sure.

The back story here concerns Rebecca’s bed, which we bought only in March, and around four weeks ago it broke. One of the metal sides just buckled one morning as Rebecca got out of bed. Being so new, we wrongly made the assumption that our friendly Tesco folks would arrange a replacement or credit for what was quite obviously a faulty item.

Well, after weeks of faff, involving them having to send someone out to come and look at it, and say “Yep, that metal bit has buckled” and submit his report, it eventually turns out that one side of the bed totally collapsing does not a broken bed make. No, as none of the screws or fittings had broken, his report said that obviously a child had been jumping up and down on the bed.

Now, at 14, Rebecca is well past jumping up and down on the bed. So I challenged this theory several times, only to be told that basically I was obviously lying and that they were not prepared to do anything about it. I was vexed, and henceforth, Tesco shall not receive one penny of my meagre earnings. The weekly shop has transferred to Asda, the DVD club has been cancelled and the car insurance about to renew will now be “Go Compared” to find a different supplier.

So for the refusal to swap out a product that broke six weeks into its active life, they have lost a fair bit of cash, and of course I am now broadcasting the episode to the hordes of folk who come to read this stuff. I hope both of you take heed too, and follow my one man crusade against the retail giant!! I know I could take this further, but as Tesco know all too well, for the sake of a couple of hundred quid, not many folk are going to take on Tesco’s lawyers in court. So I am putting the whole episode to bed, if you can pardon the pun!

Anyway, enough of that, I have calmed down now, after unleashing my contempt in the form of several emails to anyone at Tesco who dared have an email address on a website somewhere, even the CEO himself.

I had a full weekend planned. Full of lots of tasks that had been building up on my to do list. The first of which of course was to throw away the broken bed, and move the one from the spare room into Rebecca’s room. That took most of Friday evening, and a lovely moist glimmer of sweat. On Saturday, I had an appointment with the Rug Doctor. No, I have not lost my mind in some sort of middle aged madness, and resorted to cover my shiny dome with a wig. I had resolved to cleanse our carpets, which had been hammered by too many animals and teenagers and were looking decidedly worse for wear.

After a little internet research on these things in the week (strictly in my own time), I had selected B&Q as my retailer of choice, as –

a) they were cheap

b) I knew where it was

My plan to be there for opening at 7am on Saturday drifted away as I lazed in bed till at least 8.30!! Anywho, after a pit stop at the tip to deposit the broken bed (I had taken great delight, and some revenge when dismantling it, so it was in a fair few bits), I arrived at B&Q at around 9.15. I needed a few bits for other random DIY tasks to be tackled this weekend (more of this later), so I wandered, lost, around the twelve acre expanse of the warehouse before somehow stumbling across what I needed eventually.

With that purchased I went to the “Service Desk” to be, well, served. I stood watching a chap do stuff with his till, tap at his keyboard, and generally avoid eye contact with me for as long as possible for about ten minutes. Slightly miffed, I stopped a passing member of staff to ask if I was at the right place to actually get served, and she said yes. Sensing my disdain, she went behind the desk and said she would serve me. “Oh good” said I.

After quite some time, she found the key to the Rug Doctor cupboard, then a bit more searching located the pad she needed to fill in, and once she’d found a pen, we were off. As she was wrestling with the form, the phone started ringing. “Oh shut up” she said, several times. Several colleagues came and went as this went on, and she took the chance to moan to every single one about something or someone.

About forty minutes after arriving, I did eventually leave with the Rug Doctor, and headed home. I would recommend one of these things, but be warned, you will feel like you have lived in squalor for months when you pour away the black water that it collects during the cleaning process. It would appear we have been rubbing soil into our carpets on a regular basis.

Three hours of huff and puff and a lot of sweating, and our house is full of lovely looking rugs and carpets. Satisfied and sweaty, I load the Rug Doctor back in the car (well Louise’s car as she had taken mine to go shopping, which is always a concern that she thinks she needs the bigger boot space!!) and headed back to B&Q.

I was relieved to see some actual staff on the desk this time, and I was served almost immediately. Again, another search is undertaken for pens, the pad and the key to the cupboard. Again, the same insular staff discussion was taking place between the staff, to my exclusion, mostly about how lazy such a colleague was, and what an idiot the manager was. Nice! After more endless faff, I get to sign the form that confirms I have given it back, and my lovely assistant says, “You know this should have been back a lot earlier”. She was referring to the 10am time at the top of the form.

“No, you’ll find that is tomorrow’s date, I only picked this up earlier today”.

“Right” she says snatching the form away from me and turning her back. I assume we are done, and I leave glowing from the exceptional retail experience I have just endured.

So that’s two major retailers who have covered themselves in all sorts of glory this week. Still, I have clean carpets.

From my list of other tasks, the lawn remains untackled, as things are still just too moist out there. I may get to it next May!! However, to end on a high note, the other DIY task I alluded to earlier was the repair of a broken kitchen cupboard. The screws holding the hinges in place had become loose, and the door was hanging off a little. So, I procured some wood filler, filled the now too large holes, waited for that to dry, and acquired some suitable new screws to use.

I had intended to return to B&Q to get these, but –

a) I forgot to call in on our shopping outing today

b) I resent giving the buggers any more of my hard earned

So I did what all sons do. We called in to my Dad’s to give him his Father’s Day gifts, and I nipped down to the cellar to raid the thirty year old Nescafe coffee jar which is full of every size screw ever produced. Ten minutes of rummaging and I had enough likely sized screws to complete my task.

On my return home, the task was completed with zero expletives, and relative ease. I emerged from the kitchen, hands aloft, with a self-satisfied glow. Unfortunately no-one was there to see it, so I had to walk upstairs and tell Rebecca, who you can imagine was massively impressed, and replied with a confused “Oh…right”.

I am not a DIY kind of guy, and most of my attempts end in disaster, swearing and getting my Dad or neighbour in to sort it. I was happy with myself anyway.

So, I mentioned a shopping trip earlier. This is another sign of our impending jaunt over the Atlantic. We were clothes shopping for the girls. They are total opposites on a clothes shopping trip, with Emily reluctant to look, try on or unplug the iPod from her head, whereas Rebecca is a whirling dervish of clothes being ripped from the rails and tried on. It is safe to say, Rebecca came home with more, but only down to the fact that she could be bothered to look. Emily only “does” clothes shopping proper, in Hot Topic, and the fact that we start our holiday the day after her birthday means she will be investing most of her gifts in that retail outlet once we get there!!

So having conquered the carpets, clothes shopping and a cupboard this weekend, I hope to spend the rest of Father’s Day watching the golf, dreaming of sunnier weather and decent customer service in a far away land. Tomorrow, the diet starts in earnest. A pound or two has been shed over the last few weeks, despite the criminal excesses at the cinema on some occasions, but now I need to make a serious dent in the flab so that I can replace it whilst away. Those with any sort of knowledge of me will know that refraining from food is not my forte. Wish me luck!!

Till the next time…..

Juxta another blog post.

12/06/201115/06/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I have felt tired recently. It turns out that I was much more tired than I thought, as I went to bed last night and it was early June. Today I woke up and it appears to be November. No wonder I was bursting for the loo this morning!!

An oft visited theme by me is the absolute and undeniable influence the weather has on the nation’s mood. I admit that I am perhaps a more severe example of this than most, but today’s endless torrential rain and overcast gloom has not enticed me to dance around the house with joyous delight. How can this be when I had the delights of the big shop this morning, followed by a longer than usual taxi run to get Emily to a choir practice session? Asda and Atherton respectively failed to enhance my Sunday.

So the week prior to this weekend saw me busy. With new stuff to do at work, I no longer exist outside of meeting rooms it seems, and I have inherited a fair few folk who fall into the categories of drama queen and terrorist, and dealing with their behaviour, nonsense and hissy fits has merely meant I have had less time to do any actual work that has a significance to it.

I don’t do work stuff here really, as five days a week is plenty thanks, but maybe my malaise is half weather, half weariness.

Emily completed the last of her dreaded Maths papers this week, and if all has gone to plan she will never need to darken its door again. Maths and The Williams family do not get on. I kicked, bollocked and scraped my way to a GCSE (well an O Level, but that may make me look old), and it seems my numerical genius has been passed to both offspring. Emily was fairly positive in her overly verbose response to my text asking how it went.

If it were possible to text a shrug of the shoulders she would have!!

Tomorrow sees Emily tackle her final Media Studies paper, which is much more up her street. She has more or less already passed this one it seems, due to course work and all that, and so she is looking forward to this final bit, which is all about an original idea for a film.

Whilst we are on an education theme, Louise and I spent most of Saturday at a UCLAN open day. This is not, as it might sound, some sort of science fiction conference. UCLAN is the University of Central Lancashire. Louise is considering going to Uni next year to train as a nurse. Having taken photographs of boobs for a while now, she is considering undertaking the Nursing course at UCLAN as a change in direction.

The Uni is in Preston which is about a thirty minute drive from us, and the buildings themselves are all new and shiny. They look odd against the juxtaposition of the absolute hole that the surrounding parts of Preston City Centre look like. I am sure like any town or city that there are nice and nasty parts, but my God, the part we walked through was the pits!! Nearly every shop was either boarded up or involved in something illegal (allegedly).

The course and facilities look good, but the intake doesn’t happen until next April so applications will happen and then we’ll see if we can afford the lack of Louise’s wages!! So we are just three years away from Louise being a qualified nurse and us being welcomed into Florida with open arms on a full time basis!! There is the small matter of me finding a job, paying for healthcare, uprooting the girls at crucial points of education, leaving all our family behind and rehousing several animals, but these are trifling issues when compared to how close to Disney I can find a house, and how quickly we can secure Florida residents annual passes.

After what felt like a long day at “school”, Louise and I settled down last night to watch Despicable Me. There was a time when we watched films like this for the girl’s benefit, however, both of them were busy elsewhere so we enjoyed it regardless. It was good fun, if a little formulaic, but hey, it is a kid’s film!! Then, having enjoyed the blood and boobs fest that is Game of Thrones recently, we thought we’d give Camelot a go on Channel 4. It was more Camel Toe to be honest, with the sexual content being so high.

Apparently there were no ugly folk in the olden days, and despite no toothpaste, razors, soap or shampoo, everyone looked like a model from a perfume ad. Suspending that belief though, it was entertaining enough, and when compared to the absolute dross that clogs up Saturday night TV most weeks it will be welcome relief from the ominous approach of the X Factor. It draws ever nearer, in depressing style, and will hold the country in its vice like grip all the way to Christmas. What a thought! Damn it, we almost got through an entire post without me whinging about Cowell and his mind numbing distraction of the masses. Maybe next week?

Speaking of juxtapositions. What do you mean I wasn’t? I used that word earlier…keep up!! Louise was out and about buying essential stuff (apparently) and happened across a deal for sun tan lotion, on a BOGOF deal. We HAVE TO have a certain make as it is the only one that stops heat rash for Louise. I suspect all these are exactly the same in different coloured tubes, but that’s just me.

Anyway, back to juxtapositions……I spotted these purchases, along with Louise’s sunglasses on the kitchen table, with the monsoon like conditions happening outside in the background. That right there is a juxtaposition!!

Sun Cream — Juxta couple of tubes of sun cream

Did I mention that this weather is a bit depressing? Still it means I still can’t mow the back lawn, which is not a euphemism in any way. The grass is so long out back (I promise you I mean the back garden!) that there are small tribes living in it, none of which look anything like the characters in Camelot.

Till the next time….

A bit of blue for the Dads!

05/06/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

So this week brought news that Britain’s Got Talent is a fix. In other shocking news, I enjoy going to Florida, I am ever so slightly over my ideal weight and grass is green.

For anyone who missed the revelations this week, here are some snippets.

For reasons which will become obvious, I can’t reveal my full identity. But let me just say that, I am an executive with Sony Music UK with many years experience in music management. My work involves close liaison with Simon Cowell’s SYCO company (specifically SYCO Music and SYCO TV) and, as a result, I have seen what goes on from the inside and this has left me increasingly uncomfortable about the integrity of Britain’s Got Talent and particularly the workings of SYCO.

It’s long been known that there is a quite a degree of “fixing” in BGT. ( Daily Mail http://bit.ly/fxkWne ) But press reports on “fixing” are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to SYCO’s manipulation of, not only the show and the contestants, but also the viewing public and hopefully, in this email, I can shine some light on the smoke and mirrors trickery of SYCO.

Take BGT 2011 for example. Scouts working for SYCO first saw Ronan Parke (the 12 year old singer) some two years ago when he was just 10 and was singing at a birthday party for former Norwich City goal-keeper, Bryan Gunn. Following that, Ronan was privately auditioned by SYCO scouts on two more occasions and, as is usual practice on BGT, he was “invited” to audition for the show as a “preferred” contestant. At the same time, Ronan and his parents were “required” to enter into a contract with SYCO. Like all SYCO contracts, it is heavily weighted in favour of the label and are notoriously bad, even in the cut-throat world of the music industry. Simon effectively signed Ronan for life and he’s got little or no chance of ever getting out of it…unless Simon decides to terminate. Recording contracts are legally extremely complex and usually require input and advice from very expensive, specialist contract lawyers. SYCO knows that such legal advice goes well beyond the means of most contestants. As one senior SYCO executive said to me recently. “These people are mugs. They’ll sign away their own mother just to get on tv. It’s a f****** turkey-shoot and then we own their arses!”

It goes on at length, and whether everything is true or not, surely, this is the Great Rock n Roll Swindle of this century. I use Rock n Roll loosely of course. There is simply too much at stake money wise to leave the outcome of these things to chance.

The ability to manipulate viewers opinion is vital if you are to control telephone voting and indeed get the required result. SYCO see this as essential to the success of the show and are very open about fact; planning and delivering live shows of quality is impossible if it was purely left to the public vote. As Simon said in a meeting once. “The public NEED to be told who to vote for.” Everything on BGT is geared towards telling you who you should for, particularly on the production side. It’s an art really, which Simon has honed to perfection and SYCO are now world leaders at.

Clever editing, highlighting of certain hopefuls at key stages, and scripted judges comments make the outcome inevitable. Whether it be BGT or X Factor, every year, about half way through the finals there is a “shock” elimination to ramp up the press coverage and re-engage the public. Laura White a few years back, and those singing Glee type blokes from Cambridge this series are two examples I can think of from the top of my head. I am pretty sure the actual phone votes are not fixed (anymore, but remember the Ant n Dec scandal a few years back when the phone vote system was found to be “suspect”?) but they are clearly manipulated. It only needs Simon to say the usual “I think you are in trouble tonight” and oops out they go.

Why do I care? I don’t really, as I don’t watch these things if I can help it. I guess I am more insulted than anything else, at the presumption that they can get away with this nonsense. In the early days of this genre (Pop Idol etc) I found the shows enjoyable, but they have since morphed into smaltz ridden, sob story based soap operas that merely serve to allow Cowell to sack all of his A&R men, as these shows take care of all that, and he makes millions from the votes and adverts!

The whole thing is an insult to the country’s intelligence, which I fear for, judging by the hook line and sinker response to these shows all over Twitter and Facebook when they are on.

The power of social media is strong, and Cowell knows it, hence things like this….

It was also interesting to see that even before the final credits rolled on Ronan’s audition show, SYCO TV had uploaded the offical video of Ronan onto YouTube. Today, that particular video has been viewed over 2.5 million times and growing. SYCO don’t do that for other contestants, so why Ronan? The gaying-up Ronan plan slightly backfired on SYCO when lots of negative comments were being posted on YouTube and Twitter about Ronan’s image and the supposed sexuality that represents. Things got so bad on YouTube that the posting of comments had to be suspended. But SYCO learned from this and dressed Ronan more appropriately for his semi-final show; preferring a much more Bieber inspired look to the ‘gay- kid’ image presented in the audition.

In another unusual move for BGT contestants, SYCO created Ronan’s Official Facebook Fan Page and Twitter account. Both these services are managed from within SYCO and they post messages and pictures, not Ronan. This is because they don’t want Ronan posting anything controversial and is standard practice for current artists signed to SYCO.

So please let’s not believe the nonsense that the likes of Susan Boyle, and this young kid just wandered into an open audition, happened to luckily get in front of the judges, rather than the production runners, and happened to take the country by storm.

Enough soap box? I think so…..and I apologise for becoming boring on the subject. Onto other stuff…

With the advent of June this week, the holiday excitement was raised a notch. Having paid all the final balances on cars and villas, we’re now just waiting for the day to come. We did have some tentative plans (who am I kidding, it was added to my spreadsheet in a special highlighted colour to denote that it was not yet booked) to add a one night stay at Universal into our five days in Orlando, so I did a little bit of research into that this week, only to be put off by the cost of staying on site and the tickets. At north of £500, I had to question the value for money, and started to evaluate other options.

Even as I type this, I am doubting my own logic, as we all love the Hard Rock, and I would really like to have another go at Harry Potter, well probably more Hermione, but that’s a whole different post. We’ll see what happens. I have requested a full family meeting over tea this evening to discuss in detail, and come to a final conclusion, as long as I agree with it of course. Whose credit card is it anyway??

Blue Man Group — Bit of blue for the Dads

After a week and a bit of beaches and stuff, the girls (who am I kidding) will be gagging for a little bit of theme park action. So if it isn’t Universal we’ll be getting a two day ticket for Sea World and Busch Gardens instead, for £70 each. Aquatica may replace Busch, after the meeting, but I suspect the coaster draw will be too strong. On Friday evening, whilst browsing ticket options, Louise asked if we were able to fit in a visit to Blue Man or Cirque. In the past I have always been put off by the expense of these shows, but I had a look nonetheless.

A few brief moments of keyboard action saw me satisfied, not for the first time!! I also had procured four tickets, six rows from the front, for Blue Man Group on our first night in Orlando. This is to be a trip of different stuff, so it is fitting and good that we finally do one of these things. I always seem unable to comprehend the word budget when a price is in dollars!!!

I do know (due to threads such as this) that there is a high degree of scepticism that I will be able to resist the tractor beam draw of a Disney theme park. It is not so much my ability to resist, more my inability to afford it, and Louise’s promise to separate me from dangly bits should I even think about it. Of course, whilst in Orlando it is very difficult to avoid Disney altogether, as he built the place (didn’t he?), so we will dabble with Disney. Of course, we are staying at Vero, which is Disney, we’ll probably wander through Downtown Disney (purely for gift and souveneir shopping of course), and our annual meet up with Jakki, Steve and the kids means we simply HAVE TO go to Bay Lake Towers and take advantage of their rock star lifestyle, and watch Wishes from the viewing deck in their posh resort. The price for doing so is to feed Jakki’s cocktail addiction for the duration of our visit.

So we continue to countdown, with real life stretching out between us and the holiday. Speaking of real life, Emily resumes examination tomorrow after a week off for half term. Business Studies on Monday and the dreaded Maths on Tuesday. I continue to encourage her to work hard, as clearly the better job she eventually gets, the more she can afford to take her doddery old Dad to Florida every year so I can continue the tradition of embarrassing Williams Grandads in the sunshine state. I am preparing my neb already.

So leave me to my neb, family meeting and six pack development (not so much the last one) and…

Till the next time…..

Forgetting to remember, and some fighters who are Faux.

30/05/2011 by mkingdon, posted in dibb, mkingdon, Walt Disney World

It happens every year. Right around now, eight weeks out from our holiday, things conspire to remind me that we are actually going. Having booked stuff months ago, written up a plan of sorts, and other than the daily subliminal knowledge of the trip getting me through every stinking day at work, it is filed away, out of focus.

So when things happen like, getting a reminder that the balance is due on my car hire, and then realising that I needed to send the cheque off for the villa balance last week, the trip is brought sharply and quickly back into focus. Minor issues like, wondering where the spending money is coming from, who will look after the dog, his snot, and the gaggle of cats are front and centre after being ignored since we booked the trip.

In fact this wake up call started late last week, when Tom, the kind soul letting us rent his DVC points, emailed me with a confirmation of our reservation, and an offer to check us in ten days before arrival, but on Friday I was still in the eye of the storm at work, and it wasn’t enough to pull me out of it. Work is a maelstrom of change right now, and that change has landed a whole load of new people and problems on me, for which I have received a massive pay rise, oh wait, no, that last bit is wrong. However, in the relative calm of a three day weekend, I have luxuriated in the writing and sending of cheques for large sums of money, and even begun to consider the reality of going somewhere we love, and being warm for more than three days on the trot!

So after a very busy week, comprising of long days at the office, followed by starting work again at home in the evening, all the changes happened, things went pretty smoothly, and so far I’ve been able to avoid any work for nearly all of the weekend.

On Saturday night, we went to our local pub (I say local, it is too far to walk, and guess who drove?) to watch a band. They were the Faux Fighters, not surprisingly a Foo Fighters tribute band. We went with my brother, sister in law and niece, and took our girls and one of Rebecca’s friends too. It was a shame I was driving, as I needed a stiff drink after paying £6 each to get in (we actually negotiated a £1 discount each based on the sheer volume of people in our party). I once watched Go West at the Manchester Apollo for less than that. Granted that was in 1986 but still!!

They were pretty good. My brother and I, being seasoned musos of course, were a little disappointed with the drummer, but apart from that they sounded like the real thing pretty much which is all you can ask for a tribute band, and they certainly got the crowd going. So much so that one berk, whilst dancing and jumping around launched his beer over half of the audience, including myself and Emily. Sweet retribution came to him later though as he was ejected from the pub, and soon after arrested for fighting outside (not faux fighting, real fighting!). Top night son, well done!!

Rebecca enjoyed herself by harassing a couple of teachers from her school. I say teachers, but apparently they were “technicians” who run the events, sound systems and all that stuff (it is a media college so they have sound studios, TV studios and all that jazz, although I don’t think they are limited to just jazz!!). These poor lads had come out for a bit of a pogo and a drink only to find two fourteen year old girls dancing next to them.

Now these technicians are only young, I’d say in their early twenties and one of them, according to Rebecca is, “dead fit”. Conscious of the need to avoid a court case or newspaper scandal I had my eye on her all night. I wasn’t worried about him!!!

The gig finished late, and by the time we got home, got everyone to bed, and I’d had my tea and toast whilst catching up on the Champions League final, it was nearly two when I got to bed. This led directly to an event, again not seen since about the time I went to watch Go West for £6. On Sunday I had a lie in until lunch time. Granted, I was not technically asleep for all that time, but the sheer joy of lying in bed and not having to get up for that amount of time was superb, and probably a reflection on the sheer hard slog the last few weeks at work have been.

Having wasted half the day in bed, Louise and I then wasted the rest of it by lazing around (aside from Louise driving the girls to a music festival in Darwen) and then going to see the Hangover 2 at our local Cineworld. Let’s get the important stuff out of the way. Yes, it was an ice cream and pick n mix bonanza again, but I have to admit that I felt very sick before I’d made any sort of dent in the latter, and had to on board a few of Louise’s nachos to counter act the limitless amounts of sugar coursing through my every shrinking arteries.

The film itself was very good. It of course followed very closely the same formula as the first, but unless my memory of the first is unclear, this one is much darker, ruder and has loads more sex and swearing in it. Top drawer!!

Once I had quelled the urge to vomit, found some insulin and necked half a bucket of coke (diet) the film had quite a few laugh out loud moments, and not many films can say that.

So after picking the girls up from their festival (Louise did that), we had a late tea (no dessert, I’m not an animal), crashed on the couch, and watched some Man v Food. Luckily, I had overcome my aversion to anything with sugar in it by the time he rolled out the deep-fried cheesecake on a stick. My powers of recovery are such that given half a chance, at that point I could quite easily have done a fair slice of that.

I often curse my slow metabolism as being the reason that I am prone to pile on a few pounds, because as you know, my eating habits are beyond reproach.

So with Monday here, and no work, another day of not doing a lot meanders along. We’ve had two of the girl’s friends sleeping over this weekend of course, nothing changes there, and as soon as I’m done here I shall be having the daily chat with Emily about how much revision she has/hasn’t/will/won’t be doing today.

Eight weeks and counting, or if you prefer, 58 days. Count with me?

Till the next time……

Pick n Mix Pirates

22/05/201123/05/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

One week into the exam marathon, and it seems to have gone pretty well. As parents of teens will know, you only have around seven syllables per day to find out everything you need, so I can’t be too sure, but from the responses provided, Emily is fairly pleased with the first batch.

After what seems like around 14 English papers and one RE exam, positive vibes have been the order of the day. So that’s good. Now, my job is to resume head pecking so we can avoid complacency, and a downhill trek to disappointment. Emily is grateful for that of course.

Emily — She be a pirate aarrrgh, in high heels.

She doesn’t have things too bad, as of course Monday saw her being allowed to go and see Panic! At the Disco, but to be honest there was no stopping her, and Friday saw Emily at a Pirates party at the local boozer. Don’t worry I have not lost my mind and moral compass, she went with her friend and her parents, so I know she was on soft drinks and not Aftershock, a greasy kebab and a chat with the big white telephone. That completes the recommended allocation of fun and socialising and she should now be attached to her books for every hour God sends.

Anyway, enough of other people, how was my week? Pretty crap to be honest. It started OK, with some pretty drastic changes at work announced which on the face of it all looked good. No details here of course, but a “senior reshuffle” removed a couple of blockers that were legendary for making life difficult.

The next day, and a couple of chats with the MD later, where I suggested what he might now do when restructuring, saw me handed a whole new team to look after!! That’ll teach me to keep my bloody mouth shut. So from that moment on the week was hectic, rushed, panic-stricken and rife with planning, researching and discussing this new world. My use of the phrase “hospital pass” was increasing as the week went by.

Now you will of course appreciate that normally I am infallible, unflappable and pretty much the dream employee, but this new stuff took over my week, and seemed to have affected my capacity to deal with the regular stuff. This led to a stressful end to the week, with a few things going awry.

Doing a bit of work over the weekend to rectify said situations has thrown a more positive light on things, and hopefully, next week will see me back in my stride of uncompromising perfection. Ahem!

Oh and Steve, if you read this before I see or speak to you, keep quiet and I will explain all. This new team business is not common knowledge yet!!

pirates_of_the_caribbean_4_ — Penelope Cruz

On Saturday evening I had decreed that we shall all go to the pictures to take in the latest Pirates film. Having this all saying, all-seeing power, meant that Rebecca chose not to come with us as she’d rather see her boyfriend. A sign of the times. So, three of us made our way to the local Cineworld.

I’ll come on to the film shortly, but the most important part of any cinema trip is the snack choice. I say choice, but I think choice is for fools. Why choose? Simply have everything you want. Some idiot within Cineworld chose to put the Pick n Mix stuff next to the Ben n Jerrys counter. Faced with this double whammy of n’s, with Pick N Mix n Ben n Jerrys, I was powerless to resist.

A regular Hot Fudge Sundae (I resisted the large, I am not an animal), and a small selection of sweets that I Picked and then Mixed seemed the only way to go. It took so long to get all the food sorted (I blame Emily’s bloody Slushy thing) that by the time we got into the theatre, we only had the front row left to us. Rats.

The trailers flashed by me in a blur of Phish food and Cookie Dough, and by the time the Orange ad appeared I was wiping chocolate fudge from my cheeks, and taking in my first fried egg. The combination of sitting at the front, and overdosing on sugar meant that the first twenty minutes of the film didn’t make too much sense, and by the time the second wave of nausea hit, I couldn’t tell which one was Johnny Depp and which one Penelope Cruz. I was so out of it, it appeared the latter had facial hair at one point!!

The crushing humiliation of having to leave some Pick n Mix uneaten, was tempered by my ability to understand the second half of the film, and the fact that it took care of breakfast, so all was not lost. I enjoyed the film though. I’m not sure if the earlier parts were a little slow, or if that was me concentrating on eating, but it certainly picked up and turned out to be better than expected to be honest. Geoffrey Rush was great!

Sunday has trundled past filled with a little ironing (yes, I know, dream husband), some tidying, and then a solid six hours or so of football and xbox (as I said, dream husband). Louise insisted on a “Sunday lunch” for tea, if that makes any sense, and she went out this morning to buy all the stuff for it that I forgot doing the BIG SHOP yesterday. I made the tea though. As it was made up of Marks & Spencers pull it out of a box and put it in the oven, I shall not be troubling MasterChef anytime soon. It tasted nice though.

So I’ve had better weekends in terms of calorie intake!!

Look at me all back to normal in terms of getting this posting done of a Sunday. I made an extra special effort as I just know once the week starts I won’t get any time to do anything but work.

As for our next trip to the cinema, I think Pick n Mix will feature again, with a reprise of the cold delight from those two chaps called Ben n Jerry. Oh, and we’ll probably watch the Hangover 2.

Till the next time…..

Wimbledon is just one stop on the tube from Mordor.

17/05/201118/05/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I know it isn’t exactly the ends of the earth, but bloody hell Wimbledon is a long way from Bolton!!

I had the delight and joy of making my way there last Wednesday for a customer meeting, that beforehand I didn’t want to go to, and my ever reliable spider sense proved to be spot on as it was pretty much as expected. The sheer awe and wonder of the tube system, probably lost on those using it regularly, is something I do marvel at.

The fact that way back in Victorian times they managed to dig holes under London and put trains in them, and today they turn up more or less every couple of minutes, should be a mind boggler, but we take things for granted. Having said all of that, trying to get from Great Portland Street to Wimbledon is much like the journey across middle earth undertaken by The Fellowship, and they were only carrying a ring. I had a laptop, iPad and book in my bag!! To be rewarded at the end by one of my all time worst meetings was truly kicking a man when he is down.

My raid on the capital, in the form of as brief a visit as I can get away with, ended with a three o’clock train from Euston, and exactly two hours of feeling sea sick….on a train!! I was quite delighted to get back to Piccadilly and sit in traffic for an hour. At least there was little danger of filling my lap with lunch! The rest of the week was fairly quiet, with a day working from home on Friday. I had a load to do, and can’t get any peace in the office, so when Louise said she was going for a “procedure” in hospital on Friday, I used the need to drop her off and pick her up to base myself at home.

A weekend without any major events was on the cards, but that didn’t mean for one minute that we had nothing to do. Between “the big shop”, a bit of tidying up and taking Emily for a hair cut, that was most of Saturday accounted for, but on the plus side, my house wasn’t full of teenagers on Saturday night, aside from the two that I don’t mind being there.

Of course, both girls were out on Saturday night, with Rebecca at the cinema scaring herself to death with Insidious, and Emily out on about the 27th “leaving event”, a field party. I think that translates to around 100 teenagers stood in a field being cold and wet, but I think she enjoyed it. With Louise feeling pretty rough still from her “procedure”, she went to bed, and this left me at a loose end, with the worrying combination of Eurovision and Twitter to keep me entertained.

I apologise now for the sheer volume of tweets, but it made the time pass until I had to go and pick Rebecca up after her film. As ammunition goes for pithy tweets, Eurovision has to be the event of the year to be honest. Where else would you see rapping gnomes, dodgy singers and crass over production? Well, to be honest you could have turned over to ITV and seen exactly the same stuff on Britain’s Got Talent, but you pays your money and you takes your choice I suppose.

With the usual voting nonsense, with the likes of Cyprus giving Greece twelve points, (and I don’t think Greece were even in it were they?) and all those countries ending in consonants voting for each other as they used to be the same country until the mid nineties, we did well to come mid table I think. Blue can now slip back into panto and reality TV for another decade.

Sunday was a little less hectic, with Louise enduring the ironing as usual, and me pestering Emily about revising as usual. I popped out to kit Emily out with her exam essentials, you know, the lucky gonk and 27 packs of polos, and left her to her work.

So after five years at secondary school, all that effort, all that homework and hopefully all that revision she kicked off on Monday with her English GCSE. Emily, as ever seemed pretty unfazed by the whole thing, and toddled off to school in usual fashion, whilst I was trying to give her pep talks and inspiration. She was more concerned with the Panic! At the Disco gig they were going to on Monday evening to be honest.

Upon picking them up after them Panicking at the disco (and for one second did you imagine that anyone else would be doing that) and dropping off the customary friend, it was going on for midnight by the time everyone got to bed on Monday. Luckily, Emily’s exam on Tuesday was not until the afternoon, but Rebecca looked suitably zombie like the morning after.

Hopefully the week ahead will see Emily handle all that the exam boards can throw at her, and Louise feeling more normal too. She’s not had the greatest few days following her trip to hospital. Oh, and by the way, it is 71 days until Florida. Yes, I am indeed counting. Till the next time…..

Party People

10/05/201110/05/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

My up until now solid schedule for these here postings seems to be out of the window. Having missed my Sunday slot for two weeks on the trot now, I shall have to make an extra special effort. In my defense, last Sunday I was undertaking some serious rest and recuperation. The sense of relief I was feeling on Sunday hadn’t been known since that post curry “gas release” which for an awful second may have been something more substantial, but wasn’t.

The whole of last week was a build up to Rebecca’s long-awaited (by her) 14th birthday party. You may think us insane to agree to such a thing, but her original request was for a more formal bash, heavily influenced by those ridiculous Sweet Sixteen things on MTV. You know, the ones where you end up spitting bile and vitriol at the TV due to the arrogance, ignorance and avarice of the youngster involved. Having checked out similar yet less gaudy options we quickly realised that a good old house party would be equally acceptable.

There then followed literally weeks of planning, mainly from Rebecca, where lists were drawn up of who was in and out, a facebook page was created, and endless iPod playlists were created with the appropriate “tuneage”. I have to say I did not share the same level of anticipation and excitement.

So after spending all Saturday going to the vets with the dog, getting my hair cut and then wrestling furniture into safer places, with Louise picking up the cake, balloons, and by the looks of the bank account, hiring Lady Gaga to perform, we looked somewhere near ready, and my loins were girded appropriately.

As the first guests started to arrive, we began the prep of the extensive menu of refreshments (nibbles and pizza!), which meant we were hanging around the kitchen for the first half hour or so to witness all that lovely awkward early party stuff where people wonder where to sit and stand, and avoid eye contact with each other. I wore my slippers for the occasion, which Rebecca no doubt appreciated.

Soon though the number of teens in my house became too much, and I grabbed the dog, and with Louise made a swift escape into the relative sanity of our bedroom. From which we then enjoyed the next three or four hours of unintelligible bass lines, girly gossip (my God teenage girls are bitchy) and thankfully a lot of laughter. We did pop out briefly at certain points during the night, but the sheer amount of sweaty teenagers, mess and destruction around the place drove us back into our bunker very quickly.

At around 10pm we gathered everyone together for the singing of Happy Birthday. This was something I suspected Rebecca to be too cool for, but no, she insisted!!

I have to say we were astounded that as the evening came to an end, there was a complete absence of the expected queue of parents at the front door to pick their kids up. Most were calling for taxis, or walking home, and we do not live within five minutes of most of these, more like a forty minute walk. There is NO WAY either of mine would be in a taxi or walking at that time!! Sometimes I wonder if we are smothering our two, but, it just would not happen!! Earlier in the day, one parent had refused to come out at 11pm on a Saturday to pick up his 14-year-old daughter, so told her to ask if she could sleep here, or she couldn’t go. Honestly, I find some folk hard to comprehend!!

So, with those staying over making too much noise upstairs, we began the tidy up, and we were pleased to see no real damage. There was lots of mess though, but I’d have happily settled for that prior to the event. An hour of work saw the house nearly back to normal, and the worst of the damage was that some clown had taken four or five bananas and mashed them up in the kitchen. Oh, and some prat had changed all the settings on the freezer so it went into Power Freeze. Minor annoyances which I am glad I did not witness as I don’t like prison food.

The noise from upstairs continued into the early hours, but it ended just as my patience did, after I had a quiet word!

So you see, Sunday was a relaxed affair, with lots of football watching by me, and Rebecca even made our tea. This was not some sort of thank you for the party, it was simply that Louise was ironing and I was watching football and she was hungry. There are benefits to your kids getting to a certain age!

I did go for a walk on Sunday, on my usual route, and said hello to some of the wild life there. Last week it was young cows, and this week the two donkeys were out and about. I don’t know about dolphins being intelligent, but as soon as he saw me start to take a photo he just started showing off. To be fair, with that “talent” so would I!!

So we come to this week, with a full five days of horror to endure, one of which sees me in London, well Wimbledon to be exact, for a meeting I don’t want to go to. Work is like that I find.

Till the next time….

Rooms, Restaurants, Rum and Raisin.

03/05/201103/05/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

What’s this? A mini trip report? Oh yes!!!

Our miniest of mini breaks to the Lakes was indeed lovely, and began last Thursday with us setting off just the usual five minutes later than I would ideally have liked to. We left Rebecca in her PJs awaiting her Grandma, with a list of things she must do and a longer list of things she shouldn’t do, mainly around the looking after of animals, and to some extent Grandma!

We don’t get away without the kids very often really, mainly as usually we enjoy being with them, so doing lots of things without them seems to work against that, plus they are getting to an age now where we have to bribe them to do stuff with us anyway, as we are just too old and square. However, this rarity did not stop us both feeling guilty for driving away from the house with an empty back seat!

The journey north was uneventful and just over an hour, and we only hit any traffic in Windermere itself as we queued to get through the silly one way system and then down the hill into Bowness. Parking was a bit of an issue, which is ridiculous, as you would think Bowness was a popular tourist spot, the weather was nice, and 90% of the country wasn’t in work!! Finally we find a slot, and dump the Mondeo and go for a wander.

As I was parking up I Foursquared the fact that we were in Lake Windermere (not actually in the Lake, but you know what I mean). This seemingly trivial piece of info will be relevant soon.

Things were looking pretty idyllic to be honest with blue skies and a sort of grey/green lake.

It will not overly surprise many of you that top of my list was food at this point as it was minutes past midday. We pass at least one eatery before I forcibly drag Louise into the Two Egg Cups Cafe, and after wasting vital seconds pondering where to sit, we do, and get to order. Soup and a sandwich for me, with just the latter for Louise. Red Wine for Louise, yes, at this early hour!!

Replenished, we start to browse some shops, only to be interrupted by a text from Paul, the former singer in my band (you know, the one in which I very nearly became a world-renowned pop star?) asking if we were still in Windermere. We were, and it turned out that he was too, with his family, and we arranged to meet up near Beatrix Potter…the attraction, not her rotting corpse! He’d seen my “check in” on Facebook it seems!

So we find a seat outside a pub opposite, get a drink and wait. We have a nice chat with Paul and his family for half an hour or so, and then make our separate ways to the rest of our days. The wonders of social networking eh?

The immediate rest of our day consists of shopping it seems, and Louise buys a new dress in Hen House, followed by some more browsing and awandering. I wish to draw a veil over the next few minutes as they involve a parking ticket, quite a lot of swearing and a promise never to darken Bowness’ doors again. Yes we were slightly late back to the car, but the signs saying it is free for 2 hours were small, and our lateness was not much bigger. The £25 I have paid the council will be the last pounds they ever get from me, and basing this on what we spent there that day, they have lost a fair bit. However, I was late, the signs were there, but I moaned anyway!

So as I drove away, seething, counting up the numerous other unfortunates along the road who were about to come back to a similar thank you for spending their hard-earned money in the Lakes, I tried my best to calm down and not let it spoil the day. Having spent a few hours down by the Lake we then drove up the hill and parked up in Winderemere itself (as opposed to Bowness) and looked at some more shops! We did also stop for a drink outside a lovely cafe in the sunshine, and I went mad and had a shandy too!

With the afternoon pushing on, we decided to head over to our hotel (or Inn) and get booked in and start to get ready for the important stuff, like eating. The place had grown since our last stay with some renovations and extensions taking place, but it still looks pretty idyllic and peaceful. Our room was large, airy and had lovely views out over open fields. I immediately take up position on the bed, and do what you’d expect when away with my wife, all alone, and that was to switch on the TV, whilst Louise got ready.

Two showers later, and one of us in a new dress and we make our way downstairs to our table. We were asked if we wanted to go straight to the table or have a drink first. I looked at the bloke incredulously wondering if he’d lost his mind. It had been hours since I last saw food, and there was to be no further delay.

I had a lovely starter, of Serrano ham, chorizo & boscaola olives with seasonal melon, manchego cheese with extra virgin olive, whilst Louise had Chicken liver parfait, pear & saffron chutney, toasted brioche. I only managed to get a photo of mine as Louise was busy shaking her head and tutting at the sadness of me in photographing my food.

Mains followed, and I had an 8oz rump steak, served with twice cooked chips, onion rings, field mushroom, tomato and sauce poivre (which is pepper sauce to me and you), whilst Louise had Lasagne. Louise had some Rioja, and I had some San Miguel, as I was on holiday after all.

At this stage I was full, but with a dessert menu thrust into my hand I had little choice but to choose one, and it was tricky as I wanted them all. In the end after asking the waitress just how large the Chocolate Mouse with Amarillo (I’m sure this was what they were called!) biscuits was I plumped for that. All dessert menus should quote volume and size in my view.

That was absolutely lovely too. So armed with the remains of the bottle of red, and some San Miguel, we headed for the beer garden. However, I don’t know if it was a sign of my old age, or a symptom of a full tummy, but I was freezing cold, and we retired to our room shortly afterwards to do what Louise had been looking forward to all day. That was to watch My Big Fat Royal Gypsy Wedding on the telly. With Louise fully satisfied we were asleep minutes after its climax. Night then!

So the next day dawns, and more showers happen, before we are tempted back to the restaurant for yet more food. All good intentions of having some fruit and a yoghurt are out of the window, and we both plump for a full English. It would indeed be rude not to. Full again, despite not really getting empty from last night, we check out and head out for the day. We paid £165 for bed, breakfast and evening meal, including the alcohol, which I thought was excellent value!

We have no concrete plans, and as soon as I can get a 3g signal we pull over and I use the Enjoy England app (my company built this one you know!!) and have a look at what is available. Louise fancies a castle, and so we then discover that the Lake District is pretty much short on castles, and the nearest one appears to be an hour away at Muncaster. No matter, have Mondeo will travel, and after a brief stop at a garden centre to get some drinks (and would you believe Louise suggested we share a Dime Bar Cheesecake, but I sensibly declined!) we set off.

The journey was fairly tortuous and windy (as in bendy, not full of flatulence, although there were moments….it must have been Louise’s lasgane) and where radio signal could be obtained we listened to bits of the wedding that was going on down south. With a short delay for sheep, and the most annoying Ford Focus driver known to man doing 28 mph in front of a three-mile queue of traffic, we finally got to our destination.

Muncaster Castle is a very good day out to be honest. First we had a look at the Owlerey (I’m sure that is a word), and then did the tour of the castle itself, which is lived in to this day. Both Louise and I love this history stuff, and are both fascinated by how things were in “the olden days”, so this was very enjoyable.

We grabbed some lunch, and did some souvenir shopping (presents for the girls to relieve some guilt), and picked up some Cream Fudge bars too. Good grief, the Chocolate Rum and Raisin was incredibly good. We both stood in the car park making foodgasm noises as we chewed. We thought briefly about nipping back to the shop to get some more before we left, but again sanity prevailed and we wandered back to the car.

The Sat Nav said it would be two and a bit hours to get home, but my superior driving skills took a good fifteen minutes off that, and we pulled up outside the house at 5pm. We were both knackered!!

We had a lovely break though, helped by the glorious weather of course and we must do it again and more often, if for no other reason than to get some more of that Chocolate Rum and Raisin fudge!

The evening is spent watching endless reruns of the same news story about the wedding, which seem to focus on Kate’s dress and her sister’s arse, and I see nothing wrong with that.

Till the next time…….

Sunburnt Underbelly

27/04/201127/04/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

Yes, yes I know this is very late. I am sort of relying on the fact that with all these bank holidays nobody will have a clue what day it really is, particularly if like me you are not in work on these inbetweeny days.

I enjoyed the summer, and it was good to get a nice long one this year, with a good four days of lovely sunny weather in a row. Sanity was restored yesterday though with the heating going back on. Obviously May is the new Autumn! As ever a few days of nice weather does a couple of things –

1. The whole country is in a better mood

I am more sure than ever that a country’s weather determines its personality. Nowhere is this more clear than in our country and somewhere in the Caribbean. Here, we are uptight, serious with a mild persecution complex, based on the fact that we have bobbins weather inflicted upon us for eleven and a half months of the year. We rush everywhere, as we want to avoid being outside as much as possible, and our only interaction with our neighbours is an occasional battle over a boundary.

If you compare that with the renowned laid back attitude of somewhere like Jamaica, it is indeed chalk and cheese. They are known for their relaxed lifestyle, friendly demeanour and yes I’ll grant you shanty towns and drug crime!! Still, my point remains. If we had nice weather all the time this would be a better place to live, and most of us would be a whole lot happier with our lot.

2. It brings out our sunburnt underbelly. What??? Let me explain.

Why is it that at the first sign of a temperature starting with a 2 (I’m old school), folks appear in the uniform of the pasty? The three-quarter length “trackie” pant, football socks and black trainers, accompanied by the distinct lack of a shirt, inflicting their milky white, oven chip raised torsos upon the world.

Like some sort of Orc infested underworld, they speak their own language, are sustained by Stella and Silk Cut, and raise their children in beer gardens in the sunnier months. Strange markings adorn their skin, as a badge of honour of those who wish to be different, but somehow all look the same.

Their voices take on a uniform timbre, much like that of a football fan, who speaks in one voice, but when required to chant at the match, adopts the bass laden acoustics and accent deemed to be the acceptable way in which to give encouragement and fit in.

Any sunny day, in any crowded beer garden, it will be crammed to capacity with what to me seem like aliens, but like District 9, the threat of overspill and dominance strike fear into snobbish oafs like myself. Aggressive dogs, beaten into submission, sit with even more aggressive women going pint for pint with the men, balling obscenities at Harrison and Kylie who are throwing rocks at each other and poking the dog up the arse with a new-found stick to see what happens. Cue a news story of a toddler being mauled by an aggressive dog!

So doesn’t this contradict my first point? Probably, but my theory is that because we have so little fine weather we don’t quite know what to do with it. If we had more than half a dozen days a year then these folk wouldn’t feel the need to spend every minute of them in such a manner.

That rant was brought to you by the right-wing fascist arm of the Daily Mail!

Now on the subject of the whole country feeling better, has anyone else thought it odd that the royal couple decided to get married in April? Could it be that there is some scheming afoot? Could it be that the date is absolutely no coincidence, with that extra day off thrown into a time when we already have a glut of bank holidays, in an attempt to lift the mood of the nation? Throw in the glorious weather that is also obviously part of this government master plan, and I am suspecting some sort of “What cuts, have a look at this wedding and have a day off” master plan.

Whilst I recognise that, I am not aversed to taking part in days off!!

We’re hoping summer returns for the next couple of days, not for the Royal couple, but for a little break we are having up in the Lakes. With any luck, all the televisions in the Lake District will break sometime today so we can be spared all the ridiculous overdoing it of the whole thing. I have no beef with the couple themselves, they seem like decent folk as royals go, but for goodness sake, how many different formats of TV show can one event spawn? I can only imagine the 48 hour continuous coverage with stressed and overtired news folk desperately spinning out what will be about half an hours actual action into two days of non stop news.

Tomorrow Louise and I are heading off the Lakes for a night away, which was in fact my Valentine’s gift to Louise. We are staying at the Brown Horse Inn at Winster. This is somewhere we have stayed before, and loved it. It is just far enough from Windermere to be peaceful but close enough to have a wander in the town centre if we want to.

I am thankful to the royal twosome for the day off that allows us to do this, and apologise that the booking of such a trip was intentionally done to avoid the non stop over the top fawning and drooling that will dominate the TV this week. As an added bonus I am also hoping that most of the world will be indoors watching the thing which will mean places are fairly quiet too!!

You will have noticed that the girls are not included on this trip. Well Emily is away anyway. She has gone to Northumberland with a couple of friends. One of those friends has grandparents with a cottage or two up there, and she has been a few times over the years. I am restricted in my revision nagging to text only at the moment!

This just leaves Rebecca who will be home with Grandma who has kindly volunteered to house and animal sit for us. You are welcome Rebecca!!

Right time to go, I have not being at work to do!!

Till the next time….

For you, the exchange trip is over!

17/04/201118/04/2011 by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

And so the eagle has flown the nest, and our contribution to the cordial relations between England and the Father Land come to an end.

Kathl, it has to be said, was a delight, and her ten days with us flew by. This was mainly as school had them out on activities almost all the time, and so we actually saw very little of her. It was a nice change to have a teenager in the house who could manage a smile and a hearty good morning. I’m not too hopeful that this is going to rub off on Emily any time soon.

We escaped the rest of the week without further sleep overage, and with the nicer weather, Rebecca and Kathl spent most evenings at the local park with various other friends of both nationalities. I think some of the local boys had ideas of improving Anglo-Germanic relations somehow, but Kathl was having none of it. On Thursday evening a few of them went out for a traditional English meal as a goodbye. Yes, the local curry house was the scene of this truly English celebration.

So the week drew to an end with me taking Friday off to do the farewell honours, and most of the early morning was spent in the giving of presents to Kathl and some to take home to her family, and then weighing her enormous suitcase to make sure it made it in below 20kg. There were ounces to spare.

I dropped her off at school, and left both nationalities to say their goodbyes. So then I had most of Friday to do with what I wished. However, amidst housework, and the inevitable intrusion of work emails, I didn’t get to do a lot of nothing.

Typical of another quiet Williams week, Dad was back in hospital on Wednesday, but this time it was planned. He was to have something drained (details omitted for those having eaten recently), and all was well. He felt much better for it, and I visited him on Friday evening, glad to see him much more like his old self, with some decent colour and in jovial mood.

He was allowed to go home early on Saturday, and knowing my Dad, if he thought for one second that my Mum would let him, he’d have been planning a round of golf on Sunday!!

In other health matters, earlier in the week, our seemingly Benjamin Button style cocker spaniel, Henry, had a turn for the worse health wise, and we took him for the millionth time to the vets. The usual dispensation of steroids and a bill saw him improve rapidly, but at 14, we are, and to be honest have been for some time, bracing ourselves for the inevitable.

However, by weekend he had perked up no end, and on Saturday I took him on a lengthy walk, of about four miles. How did I know it was four miles? Well, by the wonders of my phone with an i, I have an app for that. It is a good one which shows my route, tells me how far I walked and how many calories burnt. Yes, as I have said repeatedly, I am indeed that sad.

Anywho, despite seeming to enjoy the walk at the time, in hindsight, one of that length and pace may well be beyond him now. He was knackered, and also seemed to be suffering a few aches and pains all evening, and indeed most of the bloody night too, as he whimpered and wandered around keeping us awake. He has slept most of Sunday too…well, that’s alright for him!! You can see that he was a little sleepy afterwards!

Saturday morning started with a lovely little battle and shouting match, with me “encouraging” Emily to get her arse out of bed to do some revising. How cruel of me to insist she joins the world of the living at the ungodly hour of eleven o’clock. I have to admit that I raised my voice ever so slightly, and then together we constructed her revision timetable for the Easter holidays. She was delighted.

I for one will be delighted when these bloody exams are done, as I am sick to death of going to war with her over her revision. She’s done a fair bit this weekend I have to be honest, but finding that balance between letting her make her own mistakes, and putting a rocket up her arse every few minutes is one I am struggling to find.

On the positive side I only have four days left at work until a welcome break. I finish on Thursday until the 3rd of May. I cock my hat to the Royal couple for the additional holiday, but saying that I’m no doubt paying for a vol au vent or two so it is fully deserved. I will not be glued to the TV watching the event to be honest, I have lots of grass growing in the back garden that demands my attention more. It is a close call as to what would make my blood boil most, having to sit through this nonsense or watch Britain’s Got Talent. It returned on Saturday and it never fails to make me angry. Apologies for those bearing the brunt of that via Twitter at the time!

Another uneventful week comes to a close, with a new one around the corner, which of course means a Monday. What joy.

Till the next time….

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