That Book What I Wrote

by mkingdon, posted in dibb, mkingdon, Walt Disney World

What is this madness?  A blog from me on a Saturday?  Crazy I know, but these are not normal times we live in.  For a start, it feels like a Sunday due to the Goodness of the Friday I just had.

What is the reason for this earth shattering deviation from the comforting grip of routine and normality?  Well, I’ll tell you.

Some weeks ago, I undertook a detailed and extensive teaser marketing campaign, as I said…

“As some sort of teaser marketing campaign, I shall …..erm…tease you by letting you know that I am working on a “secret project” at the moment and at some point soon I may reveal it to you.  As an added bonus one or two of you might even give a toss.”

All none of you picked up on this, and I was inundated with absolutely no enquiries as to what I was up to.  As teaser marketing campaigns go, it may not have been the most successful in the history of advertising.

Weighed down by the massive sense of expectation this campaign created, I have been working hard on this project, and can now reveal all to you.

As I said at the time, sadly it is not the annual booking of our holiday.  If it were that would be the least surprising reveal since Duncan from Blue announced he was gay.  It is holiday related, and is in fact the news that I am now a published author!

That sounds grander than it actually is, as frankly anyone can be a published author as long as you can figure out the labyrinth of complexity involved in Amazon’s self publishing programme.  But still, published I is.

So it is with great pleasure that I can reveal to you all my first (and probably only) book, Mkingdon’s Tales of Family, Food and Florida.

Book Image
Mkingdon’s Tales of Family, Food and Florida

Don’t worry, I’m not trying to fund our next trip with the sales of this book.  Believe me, once Amazon and the tax man have had their share I would need the population of China to buy a couple each to be able to fund more than the taxi to the airport!

It is more that I have been meaning to do this for a while now, mainly to preserve them forever on somewhere other than a certain Disney forum.  Who knows when that might blow up or self-destruct in a fire-ball of reclining seats, tipping and right-wing views?  If it did, all the work I had put into these would be lost and I couldn’t have that.  I spend less and less time on there now, so felt that I needed to reclaim them for myself, and of course if I sell a couple (I have already bought one copy, so just one more sale to reach my target) at the same time then that would of course be lovely.

It’s a big book, and should represent decent value for the (random) price. (Amazon’s pricing engine is slightly more complex than space travel).  With ten year’s worth of holidays in it, the page count is as impressive as the photo quality isn’t.  Amazon’s file size restrictions mean they have to be a thumbnail of a thumbnail!

Some of the grammar and spelling will not win any awards.  I have tidied them up a little, but you will still find typos and the like, but hey, that all adds to the charm, doesn’t it??

So, please tell your friends, and even your enemies that such a thing exists, and if any of you are kind enough to invest in a copy, that in itself would be incredible, but should you even enjoy it, then that is what the review system is for on Amazon so don’t be shy to add one!

So there we go, I finally got my arse in gear and created a book from stuff what I wrote.  Enjoy!  We all enjoyed making the holidays that are in it.

Till the next time….

I just Asda know..is my shopping coming?

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

Being creatures of habit and routine it doesn’t take me much to upset our funk.  A little bit of snow on Friday evening put our whole weekend out of whack.  You may know that food is a central pillar of our lives, and so the delivery of the BIG SHOP on a Saturday morning is a critical part of our weekend.

Asda called us on Saturday morning saying that they had to cancel our delivery as there was “snow on the pavements”.  Naturally then, if it were unsafe for their delicate drivers to make it out to our house then all the Asda stores in the country must be closed too, for fear of endangering the general public, who would be braving these treacherous footpaths to get themselves a loaf and a pint of milk?

No, it seems they were happy for the risk to be that of their customers.  This upset was made worse as last week Louise did the big shop, and it was a contentious one.  The girls and I thought it was bobbins, as we’d run out of drinks by Tuesday, and with no “real” food in the house by Thursday, the fact that we had no shop arriving on Saturday saw Emily resorting to “popping next door” to see Nana, and get some food whilst there!

I on the other hand got creative and my lunch on Saturday was made up of the shrapnel thrown to the back of the biscuit cupboard from the posh Christmas hamper I got from work.  Those upscale, top of the range Cheddar infused crackers didn’t do much to dent the appetite.

Having collected Louise’s poorly car from the (now) wealthy garage owner at lunchtime, Louise was dispatched to forage for supplies in an actual shop.  How quaint.

She returned some hours later with the ingredients to make a couple of recipes she’d spotted in a magazine earlier in the week.  So we were safe at least until breakfast on Sunday.

I had called Asda back and asked them to re-arrange our order to be delivered on Sunday, but met with such stunningly apathetic and average customer service that our custom may well be finding its way elsewhere from here on in.

It took a while to get through to them as they employed the very customer friendly technique of a recorded message saying “We re busy, you will have to phone back later” before cutting me off.  A master class in customer care if ever there was one.

I persevered, as after all, there was food at stake here.  Upon reaching a human, I went through security checks similar to those undertaken at the safety deposit boxes in a Swiss bank, before being allowed to explain how I had been let down, and my wife had resorted to leaving the house, and was now baking some Jamie Oliver inspired dish that we’d both agree was pants at some point during Ant & Dec’s Takeaway later.

With zero empathy I was told that they were having “system issues” and were unable to rebook things at their end, but I could do it via the webs site.  So, let me get this straight.  The internal systems at Asda were broken, yet the web site was functioning fine, and would allow me to rebook?

I won’t bore you with what I do for a living, but it is something that allows me to smell a very large rat here.  I suspect this translated to, we can take more calls if we refuse to help rebook orders, so we’ll spin some yarn about systems issues and let the mugs do it themselves.

“So” says I, “I just go online and re-schedule my order?”

“Erm, did you save your order as a list?”

“No, spookily I saved it as an order…as that was what I wanted it to be.  You know, I order, you deliver, I give you money in return?”

“Ah, well then you’ll need to do the shop all over again.  Goodbye.”

Stunned, I quickly browsed all and any supermarkets who deliver to see who had a slot for Sunday.  No-one did, except Asda so I’m afraid I ordered there, probably for the last time.  Our need for a shop was greater than my immediate need to protest.

So here we are again, scratching our heads at why an inch or two of snow, (believe me that is all we had here) can disrupt our lives so much.  I feel immediately compelled to buy a Volvo, a turtle neck sweater and marry Ulrika Johnson.  Sweden does snow without it being a national emergency.

I do appreciate that some parts of the UK have been very badly affected this weekend.  Let’s face it the news has covered little else.  It does puzzle me how these “roving reporters” seem to be able to navigate to any part of the country no matter how bad the weather and roads though.

It is vital to get an understanding of the fact that we have snow to have some berk stood on a country road mid blizzard with a big furry microphone.  Otherwise we simply won’t believe the story!!

Sigh.  All of this tells me that I need some sunshine, desperately.  Yes of course I’d love to be telling you about an upcoming holiday, but right now I’d settle for some double-digit degrees here.  With the weather like this it takes me so long to get ready to walk the dog that by the time I’m ready he’s gone to bed.

That’s snow dog

Oh for a few days where we don’t need the heating on, and the walk from the car park to the office is not like some scene from the Grinch.

It is becoming hard to believe that in this country we actually have days where I might be able to go outside without a coat on, never mind in daft things like shorts.

There is a condition I believe that is brought on by these dark, cold winter days.  It is called  being majorly pissed off and cold!

Till the next time…..

Now is the winter of our discontent.

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

The persistence of the winter weather is doing nothing for my lack of WDW blues.  Or maybe the weather gods realise that as soon as I see daffodils and a couple of hours of sunshine I have to sacrifice a credit card at the altar that is Kayak.com.

My seasonal body clock is so conditioned to the spring booking of a holiday that maybe this prolonged winter is just God’s way of telling me that it isn’t to be this year.  Or, perhaps we are now in a four-year long winter, like those off of Game of Thrones, and anytime soon I’ll be having dwarf sex and expressing my road rage by cleaving someone’s head from their incompetent shoulders with a huge sword fashioned from the bumper of a Ford Fiesta.

Strange days indeed.  More strange happenings on Saturday when I found myself driving to the Trafford Centre, and I wasn’t at gun point.  Instead, Emily and I were on a mission to deposit her CV and desire to work at the Disney Store there.  The journey was horrific as someone had been incompetent enough to prang into each other on the M60 at a very inconvenient (to me) location.

Having taken much longer than it should, we battled our way through the throngs, using maximum body swervage and tuttage.  A brief chat with a Cast Member, CV left, and we were off again back to the car, keen to spend as little time in that place as possible.  If anyone happens to know the manager of said Trafford Centre Disney store do put in a good word.

On Friday evening, Emily and Rebecca went to watch One Direction at the MEN arena in Manchester.  We booked the tickets well over a year ago, so the fact that band still existed was a bonus.  Thankfully, at the ages of soon to be 16 and 18 they were more than capable of finding their own way there on the train.

Apparently, they had some obnoxious fellow travelers.

They wished they were not going in One Direction
They wished they were not going in One Direction

Of course they loved the gig, had decent seats, and screamed a lot.  Much as they did at the Jonas Brothers a year or two ago.  Ah, whatever happened to them?

I of course was on pick up duty after the gig, and upon the girls texting me that the second to last song had started I joyfully trotted to the car and headed for Manchester at 10.20.

The fact that I didn’t get back home until 12.20am was a major cause of a sense of humour loss.  Two hours you say?  Why on earth would it take two hours?  Well, the square mile around the MEN was at an absolute standstill.  So there I sat amidst hundreds of other driver Dads in their slippers, looking at the 1Ders walking past us in the pouring rain and answering texts from impatient and cold daughters asking where the bloody hell we were.

I’ve done so many post gig pick ups over the years but this was the worst by a mile.  Maybe EMO gig attendees walk home and don’t need Dads and Mums to pick them up?  I suppose the average age at a 1D gig will mean that parents are more likely to drive them home, but I also noticed that the major road through the city centre had been pedestrianised since last I did this taxi run.  At the risk of sounding like Alan Partridge, that didn’t help.

Can someone please reverse that before I have to pick them up from the MEN again please?

On the positive side, it meant that I missed a fair chunk of Comic Relief.  Having had to dress up in 80’s fancy dress at work this week, and have “fun”, missing Lenny Henry’s “katanaga” for the twenty fifth year was welcome I can tell you.  Me, miserable?  Never.  I don’t mind donating, just don’t inflict seven hours of folk being wacky and zany on me.

Does it make me a bad person that I really don’t want to hear Sharon from Huddersfield tell the nation she raised £300 by dressing up as a tampon and being dunked into a water tank?

The endless procession of Kevins from accounts dressed as teletubbies desperately trying to get into camera shot with oversized cheques just makes me want to self harm.  No doubt I am going straight to hell, where I shall have to watch Davina McCall and Claudia Winkleman present inane tosh for eternity.  It’ll be called Children in Red Noses Day.

Till the next time…..

 

A Smorgasbord of Success and a toilet.

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon, Walt Disney World

This week this post will contain none of the usual bemoanment of woes, well not for the first few paragraphs anyway!  This week has seen the Williams household bestowed with a cavalcade, a cornucopia, nay, a truck load of good news and success.

So bountiful has this week been, that I may have to resort to a bullet pointed list to record them….

  • Emily passed her driving theory test.
  • Rebecca got an A in a major piece of her Drama GCSE
  • Louise passed the first year of her nursing course, confirming that she can move onto the second year
  • Emily scored a C Grade in her Film Studies AS level

I am now just concerned that I’ve missed something off this list.  You will note that I added not one jot to that list.  I will have to be content with my natural every day state of awesomeness.

So yay, whoop and all those celebratory exclamations.

In other important news, Emily announced to us that a major attraction had made its debut at Walt Disney World.  What is this major headliner attraction that had her all exited?

Was it a multi-million pound roller coaster?  Was it the fantastically themed Be Our Guest restaurant in the new Fantasy Land?

No.

It was a new Tangled themed restroom.

Don’t get it tangled!

Some of you may know that much of our WDW time can be spent in these places, hence the title of my first ever trip report, The Williams Tour of Florida Restrooms.  So for some future point in time when we are able to return, this must now be crossed off our list of restrooms to visit.

To say that Emily is taking on the Disney obsession baton from me is an understatement.  It is getting to the point now where she is my major source of WDW related news.  From Twitter, Tumblr and YouTube, she is now a Disney knowledge sponge.

After our recent move over to Virgin for our TV services, with whom it is possible to sync your TV with your smart phone, enabling you to watch YouTube from your phone on the TV, she has done little else.  Most viewings are WDW related.

So most of our Saturday evening was spent viewing a guided tour of these new loos, and less worryingly the new Be Our Guest place.  Wow, what a reminder of how well Disney do this stuff.  The quality and the detail of this themeing looks incredible, down to the snow falling outside of the large window.

Let ME be your guest!
Let ME be your guest!

Not having a trip on the horizon, I haven’t really paid much attention to the new Fantasy Land stuff.  I sort of knew something was happening, but in sulky protest I have turned a cold shoulder to it.  Emily to her credit is much less fickle, and is, as they say all over it or up in its grill.

For now it seems the pain of knowing she isn’t going any time soon is eased and not increased by watching it from afar.  I am not so confident that I am the same way inclined.

This may be the first time that a child of mine acts more of a grown up than I.  Actually, I’m sure that isn’t the case at all.  Who am I trying to kid?  It’s just one more step on the slow and steady journey to the girls wiping drool from my chin and changing my adult nappy.  Hopefully we’ll get a chance to use the new Tangled restroom a couple of times before that happens.

Till the next time….

Cath Kidston and the £8 lunch

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

This will be a blog free from slagging off all the bands and singers you like and I don’t!  I promise.

It has been a fairly ordinary week to be honest.  Work wise I was once again down south in Head Office in Marlow.  As much as the 4am start to get there for the beginning of play is painful, at least the roads are quiet.

Of course by the time the working day is ending the body is telling you that it has been far too long a day too, but the upside to the couple of days away is that it really breaks up the working week.

After driving back home on Wednesday evening, the bulk of the working week is done, and the weekend is almost winking at you with flirty intent.

To add spice, interest and exhaustion to this trip down south, on Tuesday after driving down to Marlow, I had a meeting in central London to do too.  Every day is a school day of course, and I learned that as posh as Marlow is, if you want to get a train anywhere other than Maidenhead from there you have to change!

To get into Paddington took an age, with the stress of a thirty-second slot to make the connection.

The meeting was at 2pm, and as I am wired this way, I of course arrived early.  Having had breakfast at a ridiculous hour, by the time 12.30 rolled around I was sucking the front of my coat to absorb the remnants of lunches gone by that had no doubt found their way down the front.

Not to fear thought I.  As soon as I emerge from the tube station in central London,  everyone knows that every other shop is a Starbucks or Costa, so securing lunch would be a breeze.

My meeting was near Harley Street, so I tubed it to Regent Park station. Right then, let’s get lunch sorted.  A cursory glance raised a concern.  Lots of very nice looking buildings of course, but a distinct lack of java.

My Kingdom for a butty
My Kingdom for a butty

So I seemed to have found the only area of central London without a Starbucks on each corner.  So I had to set off in search of food.  A good fifteen minute walk took me to Marylebone High Street, so I’d soon be in business here surely?

Alas, being one of the bohemian and upper crust areas of London, the array of shops left me underwhelmed.  It was all Fromageries and Cath Kidston.  Had I wanted to lunch on guava and jalapeno marmalade with a dark rye poppy-seed foccacia my choices would have been unlimited.  Frankly, I was looking for a golden arches for familiar food and free WiFi.

It took me half an hour to find a Starbucks which was too full, so after a free wee, I carried on the search for food.  Almost back where I started, I finally stumbled across Entre Nous.  This was as downbeat as it got around here.

It was trendily run down, and by this stage it would have to do.

Eight quid for a cheese sandwich and a coffee later, and I purposefully sat in there for a full hour, at least getting some value from their heating for my £8.

Feeling ever so regional and non cosmopolitan I took my absurd accent off to my meeting.

It went well, despite me being distracted at my £8 outlay, and I was soon back on the tube, and then trains to get back to Marlow just in time to end the working day.  By this time, I was more than ready for a quick evening meal (thankfully on expenses) and a swift retirement to the exclusive five star country retreat in which we are always housed when away with work.  Despite an early night, sleep was fitful and interrupted, as it always is in the crappy beds provided.

Whenever I get home from these adventures, it certainly makes me appreciate my own bed.

The joy of it all is that I am doing the whole thing again next week, but before that I have a wonderful visit to the dentist to look forward to on Monday.  It involves drilling, and I’m not happy.  It must have been that £8 cheese sandwich that did all the damage.

Such is life.

As some sort of teaser marketing campaign, I shall …..erm…tease you by letting you know that I am working on a “secret project” at the moment and at some point soon I may reveal it to you.  As an added bonus one or two of you might even give a toss.

Either way, I’ll update you and inflict it upon you as and when it is complete.  Don’t bother guessing, it won’t be that, and I can assure you all it is NOT planning for a holiday!

Till the next time…..

Mumble and Sons – Step away from the Banjo!

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I watched the Brits this week.  Emily was the main driver for this, as One Direction were due to perform.  Her taste in music is weird/eclectic, as she likes some bands that you won’t have (and don’t want to have) heard of, but every now and again she gets drawn to a commercial boy band like me to a buffet.

I’ve watched the Brits for years.  Earlier in my life, I was in a band, and so had more than a passing interest in the business they call music, as I of course assumed it was only a matter of time before I was snorting Vim off of Wendy James’ backside whilst thrusting my recently won Brit up a Gallagher’s nose.

Alas, my lack of fringe, talent and luck prevented that from happening, but still I am interested in what is hip and happening.  I do appreciate that using the phrase hip and happening makes that (and me) an oxymoron.

Now this isn’t a predictable rant centred around me wondering what happened to music, and how they don’t write decent tunes anymore.  Let’s be honest, I grew up in a time when Sigue Sigue Sputnick and Joe Dolce had hits.

However, there is a massive amount of Emperor’s New Clothes going on today.  What I saw on Wednesday was an endless parade of ordinary looking blokes with too much facial hair trotting out what appears to be the same miserable, throaty guff based around some sort of folk or country theme.  In my book if your band contains a banjo, that’s probably one banjo too many.

I know that I’m not supposed to know who these people are.  I’m in my forties for God’s sake.  It isn’t about that.  It is about what appears to be the ability to write anything approaching a decent melody.  Instead there is a reliance on stompy grunge ridden pub music, or dour, moany laments sang by people who can’t even spell diction.

On the odd occasion now that I stumble back to Radio 1, driven away from Radio 2 by Dido’s latest aural enema, I don’t stay very long.  Listening to the resident gimp telling me that their “Big Thing” or “Mahoosive Toon” of the week is so banging just gets depressing when the “song” in question is pretty much always some black guy talking over a sample of a song I didn’t like twenty years ago.

That’s another thing.  Rap Music  – Making the talentless rich since 1980.  How I enjoy seeing these fellas on MTV cribs with their platinum encrusted houses and their baths made of human bone.  I only have to mention the name Professor Green to prove the point entirely.

Sigh.  I’m ranting.  Is this just the inevitable turn of events of me getting old?  Probably, but I can and do like new music.  I am a sucker for a pop tune or a hook.  Something that has been written with the express desire of making me remember it, and more importantly want to.

So the likes of this Ben Howard character, and the God awful Mumford and Sons can take their tweed, bad diction and their angst and do one.  The fact that their record company, via Radio 1, keep telling everyone how good they are, does not mean that they are actually any good.

I know we're crap, but they keep buying our records!!
I know we’re crap, but they keep buying our records!!

I’d rather listen to One Direction to be honest.  Take away the whole boy band hysteria, and whoever has written for them has done some really good classic, catchy pop writing, and it works.  Sure, the latest effort is a crass, car crash like version of a classic song, but they wouldn’t want to waste anything written originally on a charity.  There’s real royalties to be had with stuff that isn’t a cover!!

So with all of that, and Coldplay winning best live act, the Brits for me wasn’t great.  Timberlake was OK.  He can sing, and has that “I’m American” class about him.  Watch and learn Robbie.  I was too stunned by his Singing In the Rain abomination on Saturday night to really make any sort of comment.  Just imagine me slack-jawed and confused starting at the telly.  It was more Freddie Starr than Mercury.  Mind you, I am probably the only person in the world not to be a big fan of him either.

Robbie Williams
Freddie Starr…no, maybe Norman Wisdom!

I’ll probably watch the Brits again next year, when some new unwashed twonk is singing almost in tune as their record label count the money.  The least they can do to make it worth watching is have someone get drunk and dangle their rude bits in Adele’s drink.  That’s what you call Rolling in the Deep!

Till the next time……

Prom Diddly Om!

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

Well this is odd.  I am looking out at the world at blog time on a Sunday and there is day light.  There is day light and no snow.  It may have been a little early for the flip-flops and mankini, but as I always say, I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly world.

Could it be that we are moving out of the bleak dark depressing claws of winter?  I suspect winter still has something to say on the matter, but I have my fingers crossed.

Moving into the warmer months brings mixed blessings.  On the plus side it means warmth, heating bills I can actually afford, driving to and from work in day light and not having to give Oli a full body bath after every walk.

The biggest downside is that I will have to shed my “winter coat” in order that I can once again fit into a T-shirt or two.  The forgiving nature of those winter layers hides a multitude of sins, and there have been many sins to hide, and as usual I leave the depths of winter at the higher end of the register of my acceptable weight.

I am hoping that spring will deliver me some mojo, as for me to exercise, I need the basics, like a modicum of energy and the desire to leave the house.  These two commodities have been severely lacking of a winter’s evening, but hopefully if I get home in the light, like some sort of overweight plant, I may absorb extra energy from the extended sunlight.  My O Level Biology tells me that is Photosynthesis, which I think is probably also a Genesis album!

Subliminally I may have started my fitness regime yesterday.  We visited the local cinema to watch This is 40.  Now, I know you know me better than to imagine I didn’t indulge in any snackage, however, I did only indulge in one snack.  I impress myself!

The film itself was very enjoyable.

Not a reference to my weight

I was expecting a fairly light gross out comedy, and there are definitely elements of that in the film, but it had much more substance and length than I had anticipated.  Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t Schindler’s List, but it had a decent story to accompany some real belly laugh moments.

If you do go and watch it stick around for the credits for some very funny out take moments from one particular scene.

It was a late showing, so we were back home late, almost midnight, which is a very late night for the 40 somethings in our house.  Sleep soon followed.

After a resultant lie in, today has only consisted of a little tidying, and a spot of driving with Emily.  My ability to remain calm despite my hatred of being a passenger is developing nicely.  Still, I’ll be glad when she has passed, so that I can then just sit at home and fret about her being out driving by herself!!

Saturday saw Louise and Rebecca out shopping for Rebecca’s prom dress.  Yes, we all know that prom isn’t until July, but apparently this meant we were cutting it fine!  It only took a couple of hours to find “the one”, and I am looking forward to seeing it in a few weeks when we pick it up.  Louise assures me it is lovely, and I will in no way reference the price paid for it….oh bugger!!  Anyway, I’m sure it will be worth it.  I mean Emily wore hers for at least four hours before storing it forever in her wardrobe.  Can someone we know please get married so that she has an opportunity to wear it again!

Why Rebecca couldn’t wear this one I don’t know!!!

So for those also in the hunt for prom stuff, good luck, and I hope you win the lottery too!!

Till the next time…..

Is it August yet?

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon, Walt Disney World

This blog would be a painful place if it were merely to host an ever-increasing level of moaniness between now and August, about how we aren’t going away.  It is indeed going to be that, but I feel it only right and proper to tell you.

With that disclosure done, we go on.  Oh arse, that just reminds me of Reflections of Earth.

ROE
Any excuse for an ROE picture

That is the problem when you have spent every holiday since 1999 in WDW.  To illustrate that point, whilst lay in bed this morning I also calculated that over the past eleven years or so, we have spent about 26 weeks in Florida.  That’s more than half a year!  We are practically residents.  No wonder we are pining for home.

What could be similarly boring in a blog, is blogging about what you blogged about before.  So we’ll do some of that too.

Last week’s blog (the doughnut burger experience) broke a few records in terms of readers.  I was also really pleased to have the Teak Neighbourhood Grill spot it, and retweet it out to their followers and post it on their Facebook page.

How strange must they think we are that some seven or eight months after eating a burger in a bar in Orlando, we get together to recreate it, and then some idiot writes it all down!!

I got all sorts of reactions from all sorts of folks.  People I never knew read my blog got in touch to express delight, revulsion and incredulity in fairly equal measure.  As they say different strokes for different folks and all that.

So onto this week.  As many of you will already be aware, Louise passed her first set of nursing exams this week.  She was, as ever, convinced she wouldn’t, but in the end scored an impressively high mark.  Her current placement is proving to be testing (to put it politely) but hopefully the positive news about her exam will gird her loins enough to get through it, and then enjoy the rest of the course.  After this placement it is one year down, and two to go.

Whether we go to WDW or not any time soon, I am also planning our longer term trips (I am truly talented in this way, and I can have multiple trips percolating all at the same time), once she has qualified.

Not only will she earn more than she does now, but also both the girls will be out of full-time education, and we shall no longer be tied to the extortionate and sadistic mid summer flight prices.  My heart is already leaping at the prospect of securing flights in the quieter periods of the year.

It will be like travelling back in time to when we first started going, and I sometimes do flight searches now for those off-peak times just to see some results come up that don’t start with a 7 or higher!  It is both torture and joy combined.

Enough WDW whining I think.

We are getting used to Louise working shifts, including weekends.  Yesterday it was just the girls and I, so I suppose that more or less made me “in charge”.  We managed OK, and were even able to work the washer and attempt some rudimentary cleaning!

Today has been one of those lazy days, with us not getting out of bed till late morning.  A delicious sausage and egg sandwich to start the day was then followed by, well, not a right lot really.  I took Emily out for more driving, and she is really improving.

From the initial terror I felt sat in the passenger seat, I am now relatively relaxed when she is driving.  Her overall control of the car is fine, and she can in fact actually drive now.  The real work to do is around how to park, reverse and generally manoeuvre the thing at slow speed in small spaces.

Whether it is the heart wrenching fear and angst of their first day at nursery, their terrifying start at secondary school or them handling half a ton of metal at high-speed, they are just one long set of woe, worry and mietheration.  The trick is recognising that this is all part of that often quoted Circle of Life, and trying to enjoy the ride, rather than shouting out STOP as she brings the car to halt seven inches short of that lamp-post as she parks the car up back at home.  It is also important to recognise and appreciate that they are worth it too.

I’ll try harder next time, but I’m not that hopeful.

I shall leave you with a new picture of Oli, taken by Emily.  For no other reason than I love it….

What are you stairing at?
What are you stairing at?

Till the next time….

If Mohammed can’t go to the mountain, make calorific food.

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon, Walt Disney World

Staring down the barrel of our first non WDW year since sometime around 2001, the pain is becoming unbearable.  So much so that on Friday afternoon in a quiet moment at work, I glanced back through the photos on my phone, and eventually came to the ones taken last August in Florida.

I felt the urge to tweet a photo of the now infamous Donut Burger from the Teak Neighbourhood  Grill, stating how much I missed it.  A retweet from Emily and a brief Twitter conversation with the sister-in-law led us to a Saturday night based around re-creating the dish here in the UK.

So between us we procured the required ingredients, and I kicked off the cooking.

A good start
A good start

In terms of ingredients, I suppose I should list what you might need, but to be honest it is fairly obvious.  Anyway, we had ten diners and used –

  • Two dozen glazed Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
  • Twelve good quality beef burgers
  • Some maple cured bacon
  • Cheese
  • Chilli Fries (made by sister-in-law)
  • A selection of mustards, ketchup, BBQ sauce and mayo to suit all tastes

The burgers said to fry them, so I did.

Fry my pretties
Fry my pretties

With the bacon under the grill, as soon as stuff was ready I started to plate up.  Before I did I quickly melted the cheese on top of each burger.  Plating up is a bit messy, as the sugar glaze stuff gets everywhere!!

I had been afraid that the finished article would bear no resemblance to the real deal over in Florida, but I was pretty chuffed to be honest.  To be fair, it isn’t the most technical of dishes!

Tower of Power
Tower of Power
Glazed goodness
Glazed goodness

Amongst the diners present, only Emily and I had actually eaten the real thing back in August, so I had no idea what sort of reaction there would be.  Our other guests had been to Teak during their recent Florida trip just after Christmas, but had different dishes.  My brother had tried (and failed) to polish off the Heart A-Teak.

Be afraid!

I needn’t have worried.  Everyone seemed to lap it up!!

Oh Brother!
Oh Brother!

That expression is I think a mix of disbelief and joy!!

Meat - good, burger - good, bacon - good! It's good!!
Meat – good, doughnut – good, bacon – good! It’s good!!

Rebecca and her boyfriend Tom were equally impressed.  Tom is a fitness freak so I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but he wolfed it down.  That burger, along with the chocolate cake and custard to follow rid him of his ugly six-pack in one go!

Don't interrupt my burger
Don’t interrupt my burger

Emily’s aversion to photos knows no end, similarly her love for this dish.

Too late
Too late

Nephew Jack had necked the lot by the time I had got to him.  I took that as a good sign.

My Precious!!!
My Precious!!!

Niece Sarah was also won over!!

By this time plates were becoming clean and I had spent enough time snapping and I needed to eat my own!!

That didn’t take long, and with a choice of New York Cheesecake or Hot Fudge Chocolate Cake for “afters” everyone was soon suitably immobile, tired and I think happy.

Full of food and topped up with wine and beer we discussed how we should open an American inspired restaurant, with dishes like these, the obligatory eating challenge, and an old-fashioned traditional ice cream and American soda bar.

We had loads of great ideas, and between us probably enough knowledge and business sense.  Alas, we lack the couple of hundred grand to get it going so instead we had another beer and finished off the wine.

So, in an attempt to fight off the lack of America blues I have managed to replicate that “none of my clothes fit” fear for my next day at work by consuming a ridonculous amount of calories.  We also have no money, so we can almost pretend that we’ve just got back from Florida.  Can’t we?

A couple of tweets and Facebook posts of said burgers drew a wide range of comments.  All I will say is that those expressing revulsion, concern or sheer horror…..like all things in life, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

If any of you are heading to Florida soon, give the Teak a try, and tell them I sent you.  Whether you have or indeed like the Donut burger, you’ll have a good time anyway.

Not that I’m missing the place at all…..

Till the next time…..

Murdoch vs Branson. Call me!!

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I have had a Sky induced strop this week.

Being a sensible, mature adult, even mid strop I knew that it was an over reaction, and not really that important, but it did not reduce the venom by which I did what everyone does now when they are angry….updated my Facebook status about it.

Friday saw some snow.  In fact it saw a lot of snow in these parts.  Thankfully, due to some work appointmentage in the bustling metropolis of Manchester earlier in the day, I was at home when it started rather than trying to battle my way home through it from the office.

Said appointmentage by the way was in a section of Manchester called the Northern Quarter.  This is the mecca for all things artsy and cool in Manchester, and indeed if you try to get in without a pair of converse and a pair of thick rimmed glasses there is a toll to pay.

I met with a design agency (get her!), and the office was pretty much the stereotypical version of what you might imagine it to be.  It was an old mill style building, with one of those old style pull the door shut industrial type lifts.  As I emerged into the office itself, I was immediately surrounded by retro cool jumpers and sarcastic T-shirts.

Geeks
In no way stereotypical

If you weren’t an Apple Mac computer or stripped wooden floorboard you were no use to them.

Anyway, the meeting was productive, the people were actually lovely, talented and very useful so all was well.  I took my uncool M&S bedecked torso back into the real world, where I didn’t need to try so hard to be cool.

So there I was back at home mid afternoon, cracking on with some work, watching the first flakes of snow hit the ground.  It soon turned into a fair deluge, and traffic thinned as the roads got worse and worse.

Anywho, such a sad sham is my life that one of the highlights of my week is the repeat of the series on TCM of Band of Brothers.  I mentioned it last week, but that shall not stop me repeating my high regard for this programme.  It starts at 9pm.

At 8.43pm I was told without any softening of the blow that no satellite signal was being received.  I took this as a personal attack, and uttered a phrase I often quote when bad luck befalls me.  “You couldn’t write this!”.

Our Sky dish is in a very lofty position, nowhere near any window, so I resorted to throwing snowballs at it in an attempt to dislodge the seven flakes of snow that were stopping me from watching my favourite programme.  Of course, nothing worked, and with no signal I couldn’t even record them for later.

Naturally, Band of Brothers appears to be the only series currently on TV that isn’t repeated at least four times throughout the week.  I even searched You Tube for the two episodes I was currently missing, but no joy.

My bottom lip knew no bounds as it protruded proudly to display my dissatisfaction with the world.

I constructed and dispatched a very strongly worded email to Mr Murdoch (or one of his underlings) outlining my outrage, and telling him that I wanted to cancel my contract forthwith, immediately and without delay.  No bugger has replied.

So I have spent the weekend on the Virgin web site, pricing things up.  It is pretty much like for like, but each have their pros and cons.  Virgin have faster broadband, cheaper phone (for us) and very similar TV.  Alas, one channel has stopped me from pressing the button on this change.

Virgin do not have Sky Atlantic.  We do not watch it a lot, but I know that sometime soon the new series of Game of Thrones is going to appear and if I can’t watch that there will be a similar meltdown.  Nothing comes between me and my dwarf sex and unlimited sword related bloodshed.

So that right there is a dilemma.  I am leaning towards Virgin on principle really.  It all depends now on who contacts me first, Murdoch or Branson.  Let battle commence!

Oh and to add insult to injury, Tesco phoned us on Saturday to cancel our delivery due to the snow.  Seriously, taking away food and Sky in the space of 24 hours is a risky business.  This has Falling Down written all over it.

Falling Down
Where is my delivery Mr Tesco?

To save the day my brother and sister in law invited us for tea on Saturday night to prevent us having to eat toothpaste sandwiches.  We had a delicious meal, and watched Dredd….in 3D on their clever new telly.

Emily in 3D
Emily in 3D

So Mr Murdoch I’ll have one of those fandangled 3D TVs as compensation for missing my programme, plus of course the box set of Band of Brothers!

Till the next time…..

Monkeys, gurning and a selection of anoraks

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

To avoid another bit of bloggage about the banality of January, let’s wander back through the years.  My Mum popped round earlier with some old photos.  Louise had been asking if she had any really old black and white ones that we could frame and hang, she didn’t just appear out of the blue with random photos.

From a vast collection of photo albums (remember those) we looked through just three.  They were a mixture of really old photos of my Mum’s parents, and brothers and sisters through to some that were even in colour!

Before I shock and amaze you with my incredible levels of cuteness when I was younger, take a look at these of my Mum and Dad, or Tony Curtis and Doris Day…not sure which.

Mum and Dad
A scene from Goodfellas

I think at the time of this next one my Dad was in National Service.  It is amazing and scary to think that just a generation ago every male had to serve two years in the army! My soft under belly quivers at the prospect.  I am under no illusion that my Dad spent those two years in peace time on a switchboard rather than on a front line somewhere, but still, two years in uniform is a prospect I cannot compute.

On a similar note, I have been watching Band of Brothers (again) of a Friday evening on TCM.  It is probably one of the best, most compelling and watchable pieces of drama ever made, and this week was the one where they spent weeks dug into frozen holes with no supplies, ammo or warm clothes at the Battle of the Bulge.  I simply cannot comprehend that experience either.  But I digress….

Suave Dad
Suave Dad

Moving on a good few years, this next one caught my eye for a couple of reasons.  Firstly, I look horrified, and second this was from a time when you could have your photo taken with a monkey outside of British Home Stores.  Or was that just Bolton?

Monkey and terror
Monkey and terror

There is also some top anorak action going on here along with some top gurning from my brother, more of which later.

So onto the cuteness I promised you.  I’m not sure if this next one is before or after the last, but my levels of cuteness only lead me to ask what went wrong?

Brace yourselves….

Aawwhhh
Aawwhhh

I’m pretty sure that is food around my mouth, so not much changes really.

As technology raced ahead, within only a few short years we emerged into a glorious world of technicolour, Polaroid cameras, large brown swivel chairs that only Dad could sit in, but for some reason still with dodgy anoraks.

Brothers!
Brothers!

My brother is one of those people who cannot have a photo taken without such an expression.  I think there are probably only half a dozen of them in existence where he looks “normal”.  Some of them are his wedding photos, but not all!!

It has been strange looking back through history.  Looking at myself seems like looking at someone else.  I sort of remember those times, but somehow see them as seperate to my life today.  I wonder how the girls will see themselves in years to come.

It will be different I suppose, as their life will be captured in many and varied ways.  Facebook and twitter have already captured their every thought in recent years, and with phones acting as cameras and video cameras, they will have a lot to reminisce about.  There are moving images of my younger years of course, but they are on silent jerky “cine” films which are buried somewhere in my Mum and Dad’s house.

I suppose I can only hope they have more happy memories than otherwise, and of course that I manage to stick around long enough to look back with them.  If Emily keeps taking corners on two wheels like she did again this afternoon, that could be in jeopardy.

Till the next time…..

 

 

Enjoyment, crying and being (Les) miserable.

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I am contemplating a change in schedule.  The fact that I write my bloggage of a Sunday evening may be giving them the slight tinge of melancholy.  I know this will come as a surprise to you, as no doubt I hide my sarcasm, cynicism and moaning well.

I have given it some thought but I can’t think of another time of the week when I have the time, energy or inclination.  We’ll see.

So how was the first proper week back after xmas?  It is a strange time.  Everyone is trying to lose weight yet the cupboards still groan with half a dozen selection boxes, some posh cheese crackers and a Luxury Christmas Pud.  In my case I also had a bumper size Toblerone to deal with.  I did the sensible thing and took it to the pictures with me on Saturday night.  For any normal person that would mean that they need not buy any over priced Pick n Mix from said cinema, but you will know by now that was not how it went down.

I jump ahead a little.  That was Saturday evening and an event of note took place that afternoon that I should share with you.

Having procured (at last) some almost affordable insurance that would allow Emily to drive the 1.0 litre beast that lurks in our garage, purchased some magnetic L Plates and girded my loins, we went out for the first time.

It felt a little surreal to be honest.  I sat next to her with a fifty-fifty mix of pride and absolute terror as she pulled away from the kerb, to her credit, not stalling.  For the next hour she drove around the local area on the roads on which over the years I have taken to her to –

  • Playgroup
  • Nursery
  • Infant School
  • Parties
  • Ballet Lessons
  • Junior School
  • Guides
  • Guitar Lessons
  • A&E
  • Secondary School
  • Drama Workshop
  • Drum Lessons
  • Gigs
  • College

Plus a million other journeys I have forgotten.  All of sudden there she is operating an actual car, and being pretty good at it too.  I remained calm at all times, with only a last-minute mild panic as she turned the final corner at about forty miles an hour in third gear.  How we laughed!

We spent about twenty minutes practising her reversing, and its safe to say that is where we will be concentrating our efforts.  Her theory is booked for early February, so it is time to give her as much practice as possible.  Beyond the incentive of being able to drive, and of course actually being insured on a car to do so, losing the crushing expense of weekly lessons will be one I shall celebrate almost as much as when she finally passes her test.

So onto the evening activities.  We had all been looking forward to watching Les Miserables since we first saw a trailer months ago.  So Louise, Emily, Louise’s Mum and I were booked for the 7pm show.  Rebecca had a prior arrangement at a friend’s party so she missed out.

We arrived early anticipating large crowds.  We had pre booked our tickets but wanted to bag some seats that meant we were not on the front row looking up Russel Crowe’s nostril for the entire film.

A nostril

As you know, a 7pm film will only actually start about forty minutes later, so I patted myself on the back for having the foresight to get some Pick n Mix as well as my enormous slab of Swiss chocolate.  By the time it actually started a large dent had been made and I felt suitably sick.

The film itself was, in our view, fantastic.  We already loved the music and the stage version so were probably highly likely to like a film version, but it was superbly done.  Even Russell Crowe’s less than perfect singing voice could not detract from the enjoyment.  I sat next to Emily, and heard a fair amount of excessive sniffing at various points in the film, but as the final rousing chorus was in full swing she pretty much lost it.  This wasn’t just a dewy-eyed glimpse of emotion, but rather uncontrollable and full on sobbing that lasted all the way out of the cinema and most of the drive home.

This probably isn’t a reaction that would be commonly seen, but you have to bear in mind that Emily cries each and every time the WDW advert comes on.  You know, the one about the teenager going there and spending time with her parents.

Not sure which one is Les Miserable
Not sure which one is Les Miserable

She cries at Glee (every episode) Up….and Toy Story 3, every single time she watches them.  Personally, I think this is a lovely trait for a 17-year-old in this cynical day and age.

So if you are going to watch this film, you may get a little emotional, and you may not.  I suppose it depends on your emotional state and make up, and I don’t mean whether your mascara is waterproof or not.  Emily is going to watch it again on Wednesday with her friends.  This time she tells me she won’t wear eye make up and will take more tissues.  The small amount we took with us, knowing she may tear up were nowhere near sufficient!

It’s a long time since I watched a film that I needed tissues for, but that’s a different story.

Mind you if she takes another corner like she did on Saturday afternoon when I’m in the car with her I might cry a little, and need some clean underwear too.

Till the next time…..

Oreo Cheesecake induced pain.

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

So the week just gone was rife with the pain and misery of the return to work.  It has been many years since I had to endure going back so early after New Year so the pain felt was acute.

My early return was required mainly as I had a new chap starting work and felt it slightly unfair to allow him to spend three days sat wondering where the toilets were.  Those three days felt longer than most full weeks, but I suppose that was always going to be the case.

The one positive from such a situation is that this initial pain is done and dusted and I can now sit and watch those endure it tomorrow as the late starters join me to sit still on the motorway tomorrow morning.

To make the week simply fly by, we have been enthralled and entertained by photos sent back home from those Williams’ currently enjoying WDW.

George and Piglet
Nephew George with Piglet

With the size of the party travelling, they are getting around on some sort of double-decker bus.

Fun Bus
The fun bus

You can only imagine how images like this have been helping the diet

Oreo Chessecake
Oreo Cheesecake

As is tradition on any Williams journey to Florida, a birthday is to be celebrated.  This time it was my Dad who did it in his usual understated style.  Apparently, he wore the hat all day.

Dad Birthday
Where did you get that hat?

They head home tomorrow (Monday), and if I were that way inclined to take solace from the pain of others, my own recently endured return to work woes will be a gnat on the arse of an elephant compared to that about to be endured by the returning tribe from Orlando.  Apart from my Mum & Dad of course who will just go back to being retired and not going to work in a different country.

So if you have been one of those lazing at home for those wonderful extra few days since New Year, this is probably one of the worst Sunday nights of the year.  I look upon you with a mix of pity, sympathy and gloaty supremacy.  Don’t worry, as bad as you think it is going to be will be nothing compared to how it actually will turn out. I speak from recent experience.

Oh and after only a few hours at work, Louise and I had one of those text conversations that more often than not end up on a flights web site with a smoking credit card.  Fear not, we remained strong, and no bookings were made.  We were caught up in the madness for a few short moments but the sobering cost of flights and the lack of a method of payment that might be accepted swiftly brought us down to earth again……with an enormous and bone-shattering bump.  It hurt.

So be warned, the pain of the return to work (especially if family members are sending you hourly updates of WDW activities) can make you do crazy things.  Let’s be careful out there!

Till the next time….

2012 blog stats….and a thank you

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.  Thank you for reading!!

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 54,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 12 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

Not a slow motion montage of 2012.

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

Well, we survived Christmas, and despite consuming silly amounts of food (mainly desserts and chocolates) I have not had to buy new clothes.  This is good.

I would declare this Christmas a decent one, and I have absolutely loved being at home for an extended run of days.  It has proved to me, as if proof were needed, that I would be absolutely superb as a lottery winner.  I am a firm believer that if anyone wins enough to ensure they need never work again, and they continue working then they should be stripped of the money, and it be given to someone else, ideally me.

I don’t get this “I’d be bored if I didn’t work” thing.  I have filled every day very easily, and that is without having the luxury of endless funds with which to entertain myself and the family.  With a few million in the bank I don’t know how I’d find time to even think about my previous life where I was a slave to an alarm clock and overdraft.

Most weeks I go through the thought process, in some detail, of exactly what I would do with a sizeable lottery win.  I won’t go into the level of planning I undertake as you would think me sad(der), but whenever those balls wish to drop I am more than ready.  Are you listening Dale?

Anyway, back to xmas just gone, and as you are no doubt aware we were hosting.  The burden was lightened by everyone who came bringing with them a vital element of the meal, so really it was just about finding somewhere for every one to sit.

The day started too early, with Rebecca as ever channeling her five-year old self.  After trying to go for a quiet wee around 7.30am, I got back to bed to find a text from Rebecca asking if she could get up yet.  Knowing that Emily’s body would probably require about four more hours sleep we tried to stall her as long as possible but within minutes she was up in Emily’s room making a nuisance of herself.  Luckily Emily spared her life and we piled downstairs to open presents.

Emily
Eye contact is not advisable this early
Rebecca
About 30 seconds later she had them all opened

From various sources Oli had as many presents as the girls.  He liked this one a lot.

Oli
Mine!

The rest of the day was a blur of gifts, family, eggnog and food…so much food.

Rebecca channeling Bet Lynch with that top
Rebecca channeling Bet Lynch with that top
xmas day meal
Some of the clan

Since Christmas Day we have waved off most of the family as they left for Florida where they are right now.  This.Is.Absolutely.Fine.  Moving on.

So thoughts now turn to the New Year, and no doubt you are already overdosed on slow motion montages of 2012, and those ever so hilarious not at all scripted panel shows where they tell us all what happened in case we’d forgotten.

As I can’t do slow motion montages, I’ll keep my review brief.  2012 was, like pretty much every year, a mixed bag of ups and downs.  It is tempting to slag off every year and say you are glad to see the back of it, but if you keep doing that all you end up is dead.

The year about to end was busy, traumatic in some ways but also included some good stuff too.  Of course us somehow managing another Florida trip was a major highlight for me, but just to prove the point about ups and downs, of course Mum’s illness preventing them coming along wasn’t great.

Louise started her nursing course in 2012, which is the realisation of a long-held ambition, and despite some real downs I have ended the year in a really good place job wise.  Incredibly after ten years in one place I have changed jobs three times this year.  The first by choice, mainly on a point of principle after how they treated a load of people who worked for me.  The second was more or less forced as the company was heading for a brick wall, and the third was flatteringly via some head hunting, but awkwardly only a few weeks after starting a new job.  I am often the first to bemoan our luck and look for the worst in a situation, but the way in which that happened, and the job and company I have now settled with was pretty much a gift from the gods.

The girls are healthy, happy (as much as teenagers can be amidst their raging hormones and mood swings) and not on drugs, dependent on alcohol or familiar to the police.  I’ll settle for that.

We also moved house in 2012.  The fact that this happened right in the middle of job move number two made the early summer probably one of the most stressful times of my life.  Having to secure a new job and deal with the inevitable nonsense of a move was not good.  Sure, people go through a lot worse, but I don’t want to repeat that thanks.

The wider world outside the Williams sanctum has crumbled to shit a little more in the past twelve months.  Financial disaster, corruption, scandal and lies have dominated the headlines.  Basically if you were on TV between 1970 and 1985 you should expect to be arrested in 2013.

So looking ahead to 2013, I expect another year of similar ups and downs.  Aside from the inevitable lottery win that is bound to come our way (isn’t it?) there won’t be a Florida holiday.  I know, I know, you won’t believe me but unless a whole heap of cash falls into our lap there is no chance.  The house is screaming at us to spend money on it, and a holiday is rightly someway behind all that in the pecking order.

In the few short months since we got here we have converted the loft, repaired the chimney, cosmetically enhanced the kitchen as best we can without a full refit, titivated Rebecca’s room and painted various bits of the bathroom.  Of course I also bled the radiators!!

The list of what we still want and need to do is longer than the list of desserts I ate on Christmas Day.

Between now and the end of the summer Emily will be doing her A levels and Rebecca her GCSEs.  The house could turn into a war zone in the battle to get them to do sufficient work and revision.  I am of course looking forward to that!

Our journey into the new year will be just Louise and I, as both the girls are out at parties, and of course the rest of the family are in bloody WDW! We intend to raise hell with a visit to the pictures and a meal in local pub.  I am the Ozzie Osbourne of the North West.  Making it to midnight is not guaranteed!

So I wish you all well for the New Year, thank you for your support and time in tolerating the trip report(s), and your continued interest in and reading of these weekly verbal vomits is astounding and appreciated in equal measure.

So there you go, probably the only retrospective of 2012 you will come across without mentioning the Olympics…oh bollocks!

Till the next time….Till the next year…..

Craig.

Two loo seats and other festive treats

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon, Walt Disney World

Fear not, there shall be no political ranting this week.  I finished work last Tuesday, and so I am almost at the stage where I am starting to relax a bit.  It does usually take me those few days to shed the grinding routine from my system, and this was evidenced by me not getting out of bed this morning until 10.40!!  That is testimony not just to my relaxed state but also to the very impressive performance of my prostate.  That’s what I call bladder control!  Take that middle age!

I have spent my days being busy but in a good way…..mainly.  I’ve done a couple of decent walks with Oli, and done some of those long overdue niggling jobs around the house.  I am not one to spare you from detail, so these have involved changing both toilet seats in the house and replacing about twenty-six bulbs that were out.  I had not planned to replace both toilet seats, however having selected a new one for the main loo all by myself, as soon as it was fitted it became quite clear that it was not correct.  Well, so Louise told me anyway.  What is wrong with a bright white toilet seat on a cream toilet I do not know.  Anyway, to save any tears (mine) I allowed Louise to go and choose another one, and I retired the bright white one to the en suite, where it still looks a bit odd, but no-one sees that other than mine and Louise’s under parts.

I have also shampooed our carpets.  Really, how do you live with the level of excitement in these blog posts?  Loo seats and carpet cleaning in one week must have you on the edge of sleep.

Christmas wise, I wisely secured a delivery slot with Asda some weeks ago, and this duly turned up on Saturday.  The delivery driver had the haunted look of someone who had about a dozen similar mammoth deliveries to get through that day.  Having spent an enormous amount I was somewhat aghast and let down to realise when he’d left that we had no actual food.

We have lots of booze, plenty of stuff for Christmas day but very little actual day-to-day stuff.  So this morning I had to walk up to the local Co-op and do a mini shop just so we can eat before the big day.  It sort of took the shine off my smugness at being so organised for once.

We are hosting this year, however, the burden is somewhat reduced as everyone involved is pitching in to cook various elements of the food required.  So the more people we invite the less we have to do.  If we get a few more round I only have to open the peanuts and buy a cheese board and we’re away!

One distinct advantage of living next door to my Mum & Dad is that we can devise a way to seat all twelve of us.  We are going to dismantle their dining room table and  bring it into our house.  With a few emergency chairs and sitting close together we should be OK.

I’m sure you like us are plagued with the fear of having forgotten something key, and therefore disappointing someone who fancies a glace cherry.  Oh bugger, we don’t have any glace cherries.

Thinking about it, should any of our guests require such a thing, I can live with it, as most of them jet off to Florida two days later.  That’s right, my brother, his three kids (plus a couple of their partners)  and my Mum & Dad are spending ten days there, and I don’t mind a bit.  Giving dining recommendations through gritted teeth is perfectly normal isn’t it?

Should you all wish to club together and fund us to join them, call my boss and Louise’s University placement and secure the required time off, kennel the dog and cats and pack, then that would be a real nice xmas treat and no mistake!

Instead, I shall spend the remainder of my xmas hols in the elasticated pants, staying in very close proximity to the TV and Xbox, and determined to clear the cupboards in readiness for the inevitable new year diet.  I am not in any way ready though for the already recorded onslaught of “New Year, New You” nonsense.  You just know there will be the normal parade of leotard clad minor celebs trying to fool you into thinking their DVD will get you thin, when in reality they have an eating disorder and a history of surgical procedures to thank.

Still, soon be Easter!!

Merry Christmas.

Oli in hat
I love this hat!

Till the next time…..

A non funny rant…so nothing new this week then….

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

I like America.  I like it a lot.  The fact that in terms of surface area I have only ever visited a very small percentage of it does not detract from the affection in which I hold most of it.

If at any point in my life I get both the time and the funds, I have every intention of visiting lots of different bits of it.  This is a recognition that the bits I’ve been to are the sugar-coated, freshly painted tourist ready facades, but still, as a country it is on my list of things I like a lot.

Of course, like anything with positives it has some negatives too.  Jimmy Saville did quite a lot for charity, but seems to have blotted his copybook somewhat by the small matter of also being the most renowned and prolific sexual predator in UK history.  On balance then the negatives win in that case.

Despite my affection for the US, I feel I should probably bring up the fact that America is pretty much almost certainly politically corrupt.  This is most likely a negative!

For example, if your brother runs a state where the election results might be a bit close, it seems it can be arranged that you actually win that state, even when you didn’t really.  The fact that the real winner should have been Al Gore, who would have implemented massive mounts of green policies, and thus upset nearly all of the massive conglomerates who need to keep killing the planet to make their profits is just another coincidence surely?

Even when you get elected president it seems you are not safe.  Should you be a really popular young handsome president who happens to make a few decisions that go against the grain, then the good old authorities are not averse to having you bumped off on National television just to smooth the running of the world.

So this country of glamour, glitz and of course fabulous holidays has a few flaws then.  However, all of those are pretty insignificant when compared to the fact that there is actually a law that pretty much insists that you own a gun.  In fact, the lower your IQ, or the higher your depressive EMO tendencies then the more you are encouraged to own multiple firearms.

This is of course every “Americuns” right, to defend their home.  So having six fully automatic rifles to keep the marauding hordes out of your one bed apartment is A-OK.  Daft, quaint things like burglar alarms, decent locks and maybe even a dog are just old-fashioned ideas that those funny folk across the Atlantic persist with.

So all this pithy build up is a prelude to a very unfunny scenario that of course happened earlier this week. I have to say that I don’t know all the details of the killings that happened in an elementary school, as I could not bring myself to watch the news.  I know that around twenty children were gunned down along with about ten other teachers and other adults.

For a country that is so advanced, in so many ways, that gives the world so many great things, and of course that has given me and my family some of the best experiences and memories we’ll ever have, how can it be that in 2012 this global giant still allows any knob head to stock up on guns ready for the day that something doesn’t go their own way.

If this were a one-off, like of course our own tragic Dunblane, then we would mourn it as that, and put all our efforts into those affected.  But these things are regular events, and how many do they need to get the hint that something needs to change?

So come on Barack, I suspect you are a decent sensible chap, even though I have never met you.  Sod the rednecks who will piss and moan and sort out your gun laws.  There are several children somewhere in America right now who will owe you a massive debt of gratitude if you do, but then again if you do, they will never know you saved them.

Till the next time…..

Bleak Blackpool and Dale Winton’s Tan

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

Emily met Dale Winton this week.  OK, so met may be a little strong, but she was in the same room for many hours.  I think it was Tuesday when she asked if she could go to the BBC at Salford to watch a recording of In It To Win It.  Her teacher had somehow got some tickets and offered them out to the class, so off she went.

It was at best OK, but the whole experience seems to have been blighted by the audience having to endure sub-zero temperatures so that Dale’s tan wouldn’t be sweated off during the recording.  As a student of Film and Media, experiences like this can only be good, and the endurance of low temperatures can only be good for the spirit in later life, especially as by the time she has her own place, heating it will require one of the lottery wins Dale so often introduces.

It was also good practice for our day out on Saturday.  We (the girls and I that is) went to Blackpool on Saturday.  A strange choice I hear you think…..but one sort of forced upon us.  Emily needed to get some more photographs for her latest photography course work.  The coursework is in two halves.  The first half taken in WDW last August, and the second contrasting piece now being taken in a bleak mid winter UK, at various theme and amusement venues.

So we set off at around lunchtime, and about an hour later were parked up on the prom just outside the Pleasure Beach in the shadow of the Big One, which by coincidence is the title of an adult film….so I am told!

All the pictures here are mine by the way, not Emily’s!

Pleasure Beach
Bleak mid winter

By Christ it was cold.  Of course as we left the house I went through the pointless ritual of telling Rebecca that what she had on was nowhere near sufficient for the expected conditions.  As usual I lost, and as usual I was proven absolutely correct as her teeth began to chatter within seconds of leaving the car.

So we wandered up the prom with Emily snapping away, and popped into a couple of amusement arcades, amazed that they were open, and not at all amazed that they were deserted.

Whilst Emily took her photos Rebecca began her onslaught of miethering to have a go on those bloody claw games where you give money away to operate a mechanical arm for a few seconds.  I was eventually worn down and kissed goodbye to a couple of quid, only to be amazed a minute later when Rebecca turned up with this.

Rebecca wins
The winner takes it all

I bet the owner of the arcade was gutted as she’d just wiped out his weekend’s profits.

Out into the cold again, and more photos down by the pier.

Pier
It was too cold for the sea to make an appearance

As we crossed back to the non sea-side of the prom it became apparent that times were tough, with nearly every other hotel being up for sale or boarded up.  Those still trading looked one bad weekend away from joining them if I am honest.

Blackpool hotel
Sunshine indoors

Still, we were having a nice time to be honest.  Spending time together like this is rare these days, and despite the slow onset of frost bite I was very glad we did it.  Even the girls were smiling.

Girls
Frozen fringes

Yes Rebecca does indeed have Toms on with no socks!

We walked for quite some time up the prom, but as we went it was becoming obvious that we had all the photos Emily was going to get, and we were more likely to die from the cold before she got any worthy of that sacrifice, so we turned back.

We made it back to the McDonalds and went in hoping for a hot chocolate to warm our frozen bones.  Alas, in keeping with the look and feel of the resort, the machine was broken, so we settled for coffee and cokes instead.  As we drank and watched the world go by, the weather worsened, and the drizzle became steady rain…cold steady rain.

McDonalds View
A window on the woe

I left the girls finishing their drinks whilst I walked the rest of the way for the car, and drove back to pick them up.  The fringes must be protected at all times.  After the usual nonsense of trying to find the road out of Blackpool, we eventually found the motorway and headed for home.

I know that mid December is no time to judge a resort like Blackpool, but it was grim, cheap, tatty and of course baltic.  I did jest with the girls that we could have holidayed there for the past ten years instead of Florida, but they knew I was bluffing.  There is just no way we could afford to holiday in Blackpool for two weeks!

Saturday evening was spent walking the dog, dropping off and picking up Rebecca from a friends and being very pleasantly surprised at how much we all enjoyed The McFly Show on ITV1.  I don’t know if it was the fact that it was a weekend show that didn’t involve any form of voting, or whether it was just genuinely funny and entertaining (apart from the odd Al Murray moment), but we really enjoyed it.

Sunday has been spent Christmas shopping.  Nearly all of it online of course as I am not mental, but we did nip out to an actual shop to get Louise’s gift.  She had asked for a bike, so it made no sense to either try to wrap that bugger or hide it away for two weeks so we went out to get her one.

Owning a clown car these days I had to employ the services of my brother and his amazing bike rack to get it home.  Well, it serves him right for going to Florida the day after Boxing Day!

So a mini trip report has formed this week’s bloggage, which saves you from any sort of rant about crap TV, even worse traffic or just the fact that I didn’t win the lottery again.  We should do this day out thing more often!

Till the next time….

 

 

 

A wally wallet forgetter

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon

If I start by telling you that this week and indeed blog will be a snot free zone, then just by doing that I have made it untrue.  Anyway, after a full two weeks of my life threatening cold I appear to be recovered.

With that trouble behind me I have been enjoying the finer things in life, like sleep and the ability to breathe and as such was looking forward to the weekend.  I should by rights have been in London for a Christmas do with work, but decided against it as to be honest I wanted my own bed over the weekend, and the do involved making decisions about what to wear in swanky London eateries and discotheques, and I honestly couldn’t be arsed with the shopping or selection process that might involve.  At my age once it goes dark I just want to get home, draw the curtains and get “seckled”.

It would seem that the Gods of Christmas dos decided to take full and vengeful revenge for this indiscretion, as I have had a weekend that makes you think you should have either stayed in bed or gone and drank forty-eight tequila shots in Stringfellows with some work colleagues.

So Saturday started normally enough.  The Big Shop was on its way from Asda, and for the past few weeks they have always turned up towards the end of the two-hour slot.  With this in mind, I went for a shower leaving Rebecca to look out for the van just in case it arrived.  So as soon as I had unleashed my toned and teasingly taught frame from the shackles of clothing and had one toe in the shower, Rebecca shouted that they were here.  A mild inconvenience, and I quickly dressed and came downstairs to deal with the delivery.

The rest of the morning dwindled away, and after lunch Louise and I had the joyous honour of a visit to B&Q (on xmas tree buying weekend) to get some wallpaper for our long undecorated kitchen.  Time was already getting on by the time we set off, and the traffic was a thing from the bowels of hell.  The increasingly frustrating and depressing state of the traffic whenever I am trying to get anywhere is the subject for a whole other bile ridden moan filled ranty blog at some future date!

So it took an age to drive the few short miles to our local B&Q.  We got out of the car, and I did my normal pat down routine to make sure I have everything….phone….car keys…wallet….bollocks.  Now, I didn’t have to pat anything to know I had those.  That last expletive was more of a cry of anguish realising that I had left my wallet at home.

How I laughed.  I told Louise to go and choose stuff (I have no input into these decisions anyway) and I would “pop” home to get it.  So I wrestled through the crappy traffic again, dashed in to get my wallet and set off again.  I needed my wallet for petrol too, so as soon as we’d done the DIY thing we’d stop on the way home for that.  A few hundred yards later, as I moved out to overtake a bus that had stopped, a press of the accelerator met with no response.  It soon dawned on me that for the first time ever, I had run out of petrol!

I coasted to a stop, luckily in a legal parking place, tried to phone Louise to tell her what had happened, but of course as per usual her “mobile” phone was pretty much the opposite on the dining room table.

So I set off walking back home (thankfully I had only driven a couple of minutes) to get Louise’s car.  I have to say that my stress levels were a bubbling at this point.  I wanted to get the wall papering done, and I could feel time rushing away as I tried to walk home as quickly as possible without slipping on the inconveniently icy pavements.

With a vehicle secured, I tried again to get to the promised land of B&Q, and the traffic had gone up by about another 25%, so by the time I got to Louise I was a coronary waiting to happen.  We checked out, and set off for home.

Once home, through more tortuous bobbins traffic, I looked for the petrol canister that Louise bought recently when she ran out of petrol!  Of course, I couldn’t find it, so we set off again in Louise’s car to the petrol station.  I paid a ridiculous £6.99 for a suitable and legal petrol container, as apparently they don’t let you dispense it into an Asda bag.

I then filled said container, and we drove back to my car, through even more even worse traffic where I got it going again and drove home.  By this stage I had fallen out with the world….all of it, and I sat in a monstrous sulk for the rest of the day whilst Louise and the girls did the Christmas decorations.  My aversion to festivity at this point measured about 400 on the Richter scale.

My anger was aimed at me, and me alone, (apart from the driver of the X reg Hyundai who did 24 miles an hour in front of us all the way back from B&Q) for being such a complete arse and forgetting my wallet, which kicked off this stupid and maddening series of events.

Still, no-one died, and as the night wore on I calmed down and got back to some sort of normality even though I had to sit through most of the X Factor.  You can imagine how Christopher Maloney helped my mood?

So Sunday dawned full of fresh starts and new hope.  Alas, today has consisted of decorating the kitchen, and I have documented many times what sort of frame of mind DIY puts me in.  It is complete, and apart from one” is it overlapping at the top” comment from Louise as I was about ten seconds into the second piece, any unpleasantness was kept to a minimum.

Oh, and the dishwasher broke.

Ho, Ho, Ho.

festive

Till the next time…..

Snot and success in unequal measure

by mkingdon, posted in mkingdon, Oli

I know that I may have mentioned my illness in semi-jocular stati this week, but bloody hell I have been rough.  The standard cold symptoms randomly brought their great mates heart burn and muscular aches, and just as I was hopeful of waving the bugger off over this weekend it has thrown one hell of a farewell party. Over the past two days I have experienced pain unlike any other.  I’d call it a headache, but it isn’t really.  It is more eye ache!

A searing pressure like pain right in the middle of my eyeballs.  It hurt…like proper big boy pain, and I don’t like it.  As you know I handle pain and illness well so you really wouldn’t have known had you been here.

Today has been a slight improvement with no such repeat of that, and apart from feeling like I have been battered with a big stick, there are signs of recovery.  I have done nothing today which has really helped.  Well, I took Oli out, and had the intention of cutting my toenails, but I haven’t managed that yet!

Being below par has been really frustrating.  I had a heavy week at work, with stuff going on that couldn’t be interrupted by illness so I took my germs to Marlow for two days.  What joy I felt in my deluxe suite in which I stay, wrapped in a blanket hugging the lukewarm radiator watching crap football.  Who says executive travel isn’t glamorous?  By the time I got to Friday I was no good to anyone and crawled home mid afternoon and went straight to bed for a bit.

Still, a productive week, with a key supplier decided upon for a very important project and a key person, with actual technical skills rather than my invented ones, recruited to help me do it.  Snot and success in unequal measure….there was much more snot!

So let’s put all that illness behind us (I hope).  Some regular sleep and less snot will help so fingers crossed.

Affairs of the teenage heart have been in play this week too, with some “stuff” going with Rebecca and her friend who is a boy.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it now, there is nothing harder than watching one of them going through pain and not jumping right in the middle and knocking heads together or off altogether.

I am biting my metaphorical tongue, and hoping it all gets sorted out without too much upset, and the need for me to remove limbs.

Talking about removing limbs, Oli also came pretty close to losing a couple whilst I was away.  It seems that he left a large and damp message all over our bed, and those of you who sees Louise’s facebook updates will have appreciated her slight displeasure at this.

Thursday saw me travelling about in London, and whilst doing so coordinating my parents and a cleaning company to all work together before we got home to make sure we had something clean to sleep on.

My Dad sorted the duvet to the launderette, and Chem Dry turned up to sort the mattress.  Apparently they do a lot of work for hotels, so are used to similar work but I suspect for different fluids!

There are lots of theories about why Oli would do this, as he is superb at doing his stuff only where he should, always has been, so we are a bit baffled.  I wonder if it is connected to me being away, and him marking his territory in some way, but to be safe he isn’t going upstairs again anytime soon.

Just to remind us not to kill him here he is looking cute and lovable.

Oli cute
Adorable???

By the time we did get home on Thursday we were mostly sorted, and even had time to nip to my brother’s for a drink and pie celebration of his birthday.  I had soft drinks and lots of pie, as you need to feed a cold of course.

The other bit of news to share with you this week will hopefully be in the happy to hear category.  After the bitter disappointment in the summer for my Mum & Dad who had to cancel their trip to Florida with us with days to go, they are now booked to go just after Christmas.  Alas, we are not playing host, rather my brother and his family.  The party will be a huge one, nine in total, with his two elder children each taking their partner, so I think they have hired a coach to get them around.  Good luck with that!!

All Aboard!

So I am offering some tips, mainly on where to find a donut burger, which my brother is slightly more interested in that my sister-in-law who I’m guessing won’t be partaking.

So here’s to a week of better health as we hurtle towards December.  Someone might want to tell the telly that it isn’t December yet, cos if I see another version of the same advert from a bloody supermarket in November I might go and wee on their bed.

Why have they all gone for the same advert this year?  A stressed mum being the xmas hero.  I have no beef (or turkey) with the idea, but once you’ve seen it 48 times before December starts a dirty protest is the only solution.  Maybe Oli was ahead of me there?

Till the next time….