TV Days

Did anyone see Casualty the other night?  It was hilarious!  We always have a laugh watching the series; what with people getting blown up and burnt and overturning in huge lorries and crashing vehicles in bizarre and interesting ways which not even Jeremy Clarkson would have thought of; and presenting with weird and obscure diseases – and what with the staff all going out with each other and marrying each other and not seeming to have a life outside the hospital (except when they leave their shift to go and sort out the personal lives of the patients, which they do on a regular basis) – altogether ‘Casualty’ is a laugh a minute.  And the latest episode didn’t disappoint.

I never really ‘bought’ Max and Zoe as a couple.  He’s a lightweight, she’s a professional (except that – and I’m sorry to have to say this because it sounds really judgemental) she has the morals of an alley-cat.  OK let’s put that in a slightly more PC way.  She is blown hither and thither by the winds of circumstance and whim (hey, the winds of whim – that’s a good phrase) and the night before her wedding she goes and sleeps with someone.  She feels terrible, nearly calls the wedding off but then it happens and then hey presto! along comes Dylan to wreck it all by blurting out ‘Oh, so you told him then?’ after they’ve got spliced.  Everything goes awry after that and it ends with two terrifically explosive fires in which probably the entire cast dies.

Brilliant!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b068299n/casualty-series-29-46-forsaking-all-others-part-two

On holiday I mostly watched the tennis as it was great to see it live.  And last night there was an absolutely brilliant new episode of ‘Goodness Gracious Me’ based in India.  You must watch!  The ‘Brownadder’ episode is particularly mention-worthy.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b0687f6j/goodness-gracious-me-india-special-2015

Kirk out

Slightly Smaller Balls

Note to self: don’t eat lentils. Half an hour after eating a lentil and potato curry, I have blown up like a barrage balloon. Every time I make potato curry, Mark and I have the same conversation. ‘But what about protein?’ he wails. And I reply, just as I always do, ‘I’ll put some pulses in’. This week we had run out of kidney beans, so he suggested lentils.  Mistake!

Still, he has a sense of smell and I don’t, so there’s karma for you.

I watched the women’s tennis final today.  Can someone please explain to me why women can run marathons but still can’t play five sets in tennis?  Also, why they had two male commentators and only one woman?  Are they going to have women commentating on the men’s final?

Are they buggery.

I think we should be told.

Good news about the Tour de France departing from Yorkshire, though the attempts of Yorkshire folk to say ‘le grand depart’ gives me convulsions

A toute a l’heure!

Kirk out

S.W. What?

I have a confession to make.  It’s very odd, but for the first year ever, since I was about 11, I have no interest in Wimbledon.  I don’t know why this is: it could be the football which means the BBC have given it less than their usual dedicated coverage; or the fact that Murray is out much sooner than he ought to have been – whatever the reason I have seen a few matches but it has failed to excite me.  To understand just how weird this is, you have to realise that Wimbledon has been a feature of my calendar every single year since 1966.  I have only missed a couple: once when I was living Up North and didn’t have a TV, and once when I was living in Madrid and only had access to channels like TVE 1 and Telecinco.  Every channel in Spain has adverts on; and the news is so frenetic you can’t follow it at all, never mind the sport.  Which reminds me, have you ever tried listening to the tennis on the radio?  It’s something else.  By the time they’ve described a back-hand cross-court volley with top-spin which lands just short of the baseline, about three more shots have been played.  Weird.

Today I have been mostly… finishing off my memoir.  Yay!  I have now reached the requisite 50,000 words (that’s about 150 pages) and have reached it in about six weeks starting from a base of 6000.  Now begins the work of revising… Still I think I shall give it a rest for a week or two as I have to do my tax return and reapply for tax credits.  Joy.

Have a good weekend.  We shall be going to the cathedral to see the new garden and to Serenity, a Sci-fi event, on Sunday where I shall be poeting.

Kirk out

25 Years and Three Days

I’ve fiddled about rather today, thanks to a late night last night at Chris Conway’s 25 year anniversary gig.  This was quite well-attended, considering that some unmentionable sport was on; I particularly enjoyed the time-shifted updates Chris gave from time to time (England 0, Normandy 1; England 2, Germany 0 – and latterly, England v France entering the 900th year of extra time) updates which touched on the tribal nationalism of football.  The appeal of the game completely passes me by and always has; I’m not much of a team-sports person anyway as I prefer individual games such as – oo, wait! tennis!  Isn’t Wimbledon due to start next week?  Let me check – yes!!! It starts on Monday!  Deep joy.  Three days to go…  The question is, will I be able to break my live TV fast and only watch it on iplayer?  I should, but it’ll be a test of nerve.  I’ll have to avoid the news so that I don’t know the result – a bit like that episode of The Likely Lads where they spend twenty-nine minutes trying to avoid hearing the result only to be told it in the thirtieth minute.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0089881

It’s rather a beautiful day down here in Clarendon Park; I’ve just been for a bike ride and Kasabian are due to play some time soon on Vicky Park, so the whole area is fenced off like some kind of gulag.  Tomorrow I am going to a singing workshop so that should be fun.  Oo! and while I was at the Musician I discovered that the divine Webb Sisters are going to be there in July.  If you don’t know what they sound like, here’s a clip.  I’d love to go but the tickets are £12…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJRKg07W1zU

Have a good weekend,

Kirk out

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!

What else can I say?  In fact, that is so good a word that I’m gonna say it again.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!

That’s 77 (or 26) years worth of WOW, thank you very much – and we are entitled to every letter of it.  Wow, wow!  And thrice wow.  And wow again.

Yes, I don’t need to tell you why – it’s obvious.  Since 1977 we have not known such deep and penetrating volleys of joy: such backhand cross-court drop-shots of happiness; such over-the-net-and-in-the-corner-of-the-court returns of euphoria.  And there hasn’t been a British male winner of Wimbledon since 1936.

That’s right: before the war, when women wore long (or longer) skirts to play in; when men wore long trousers and everyone said ‘Oh, jolly good shot!’ in tones like Dan Maskell (in fact Dan Maskell may have been no more than a locker-room strategy in his mother’s womb); when commentators were rather sneering about Americans and foreign Johnnies – that’s the way tennis looked when Fred Perry won the best tournament in the world.  Here’s some Pathe News highlights:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMcV9EoHeqU

I have to say it doesn’t look anything like as energetic as today’s play – when they were playing I thought they were still warming up!

Anyway, since those days in the male half we’ve had Buster Mottram (reached 1/4 finals but was a fascist), John Lloyd (also 1/4 finals) and Tim Henman (semis but lacking killer instinct).  But now we have Murray, the dourest of Scotsmen, who only just about cracked a smile when he won.

But oh, my god!  What a moment!

He began well, taking the first set 6-4, but most people must have thought we were in for a five-setter.  I hardly dared let myself believe he could win – and even when he took the second 7-5, coming from 1-4 down with 2 breaks of serve against him, I was sure Djokovic would fight back: but whether it was the Serb’s gruelling 5-set semi-final or whether he just didn’t find his form, in the end he couldn’t follow through and the third set saw Murray serving for the match.  He had 3 points on his serve and lost them: it went to deuces – and finally he came through in straight sets!  I could NOT believe it!  The cheers were deafening, Murray cracked what could have been construed as a grin and Djokovic was commendably gracious in defeat.

Oh, joy!  Deep joy!

So it was on a cloud of this joy that I floated over to Yesim’s.  On being asked whether I had any poetry I responded: ‘The only thing I have in me right now is the sheer poetry of watching Murray win Wimbledon!’

Sadly no-one really shared my joy; and a second later someone said (and I quote) ‘I know a negative story about that.’

‘No!’  I said.  ‘No negative stories!’  And I rushed to the loo.

Why is it that when you’re on a high some people’s first thought is to bring you down?

There’s a lot of philosophical stuff here, such as ‘What effect does having a national winner have on the national psyche?’ – not to mention why some people try to bring you down when you’re happy – but I shall save that for a separate post.  For now, I’m just going to leave you with this moment, which I will be savouring for a long time to come:

http://www.wimbledon.com/en_GB/interactive/multimedia.html?promo=mediawall

Game, Set, Match and Championship!

Wow

wow

wow

wow

wow!

Kirk out

Of mice and men

The laptop is playing up this morning, hence no blog posting.  Mark reckons it’s the mouse (not that we have an actual mouse, just a little pad-thingy which you have to manipulate with your finger) and I think he’s right.  He reckons we need Rat Poison – a free program which bypasses the mouse or kills it or something.  I said Mousetrap would be a more appropriate name, although perhaps not so punchy.  Hence I am doing this on the downstairs computer which does not suit me as the chair is too low down.  I have already written a short story this morning -it’s called ‘Life of a Salesman’ and I’m quite pleased with it.

The garden is looking lovely.  When Daniel has uploaded the photos he took I shall put one on here.  The tomatoes and potatoes are flowering and the strawberries are berrying and everything is buzzing.  Speaking of mice, a cat wandered into the garden today (its name was Whisky) and we encouraged it into the house, thinking it would frighten off the mice.  I even thought it might be worthwhile to put up with it shitting on the floor to get rid of the pesky critters.  But it didn’t.  And now Whisky has whisked off.

Lol.

The great news from yesterday is that ANDY MURRAY WON QUEEN’S!!!!!!!!!!  This puts him in a brilliant position going into Wimbledon – providing, of course, that he can cope with the pressure and that he hasn’t Peaked Too Soon as men are prone to doing (ha ha).

A card and present arrived in the post today – yay.  No responses on Facebook to my birthday drinks event, however – I’m not sure why.  Maybe all my friends hate me.

Or maybe nobody reads their event invitations.

Wrote a poem this morning as well.  Off to lunch with Mary in a little while.

Kirk out

 

Strawberries, tennis and my 54th

Oo!  Not long till Wimbledon now, my little bloglets!  But an even shorter time till our anniversary and then – MY BIRTHDAY!!!  Yes!  If anyone wants to know, I’d like either a nice bottle of Rioja or  a book token.  Or you can come down to the pub and buy me a pint since I think I’m going to have a bit of a knees-up.  Haven’t decided where or when yet tho.

Today I have a yoga student coming and then I am clothes shopping in town with the children; Holly is not here at the mo because she is staying at her boyfriend’s.  She needs new shoes (apparently you can never have too many pairs of shoes).  Will be doing some Maths with Daniel (lessons have not gone terribly well this week as he’s been a bit torpid, although the handwriting exercise was good.)  I myself have been feeling a tad lethargic due to an unfortunate habit of waking much too early.  It’s so light!!!  It’s practically daylight when I go to bed and broad daylight when I wake up – which this morning was around 5.

Not good.

All stories in my ‘ready to go’ folder have now gone off and I am working on some others to bring them up to scratch.  Jonathan was due to come over last night with a Hamlet video but failed to materialise.  My yoga thing for philosophy is taking shape.

The garden is looking good – it’s practically covered with green which is reflected by the many mirrors I’ve put up.  Apart from a few spuds I’m growing tomatoes, petit pois, strawberries (just a small plant), basil, sweet peas and fuschias – that’s apart from the perennial herbs and shrubs already there.

I should take a photo and upload it.  I’ll get Daniel to take some.

That’s it

Kirk out