It turns out that I'm not really all that good at this updating my blog malarkey. No post since August you say? Ah well, nothing interesting happened anyway. Honest.
This evening I'm being a bit retrospective and a bit whimsical. Partially this is due to a long train and coach journey home, partially due to drinking far too much chianti last night. But mostly it's to do with the reasons why I've been travelling around the country on slow trains and Arriva buses and why I've been trying to drown myself in lovely red wine.
I've just returned from the wedding of M, Rosie's Godmother, who I've known almost as long as I've known Ella. We became friends in a dark part of my life, I don't mind admitting as much, and seem to have stayed like that ever since. She's been in my life at the important stages- our wedding, Rosie- and put us up (or put up with us, one of the two...) across Europe throughout the years. I'd like to think the feeling's mutual, but I wouldn't dream of being so egotistical.
It was a wonderful day, truly wonderful, and it was a genuine honour to be invited to share it with her and her new husband and their families. What made it even better was being invited to share it with lots of other mutual friends, people that we never see very often because they are scattered to the four winds.
I always feel that weddings are as much about gratitude for the past- for the relationships that get you to where you are now- as they are about optimism for the future. And this event was no different for me at all. We have friends through M and M has friends through us, that much is a fact, and it was lovely to be in the same room as all the people. It happens so rarely, there were people at the wedding that I have not seen for eight or nine years. The best bit was picking up the conversation as though there'd been no gap at all. It was delightful to curl up in the corner with a bottle of red and reminisce- who knows who from where, how on earth our lives crossed, and gosh, just how grown up aren't we all?
Many of the people I'm friends with in this group are "internet friends" from long before it was fashionable or common to have friends through email, from long before Facebook or Twitter. Until very recently I wouldn't have dared admit that, lest I'd be seen as a complete freak. In a lot of ways there hasn't been a gap in the conversation, through blogging and emails and everything that goes with it, we know as much (if not more) about each other than if we lived on the next street to each other. I think it's genuinely amazing to have these relationships with these fantastic people, people I'd never have normally met, and it's genuinely amazing to see where life's taken us all. These are people I've known since I was 17 or 18, when did we all get grown up?
It's just a fantastic feeling to be in a big room full of friends, getting loudly drunk and dancing. A ceilidh band and a bottle of wine always helps. I've come back with a real buzz and it wasn't even my big day, though I've been moved to dig out the photos of our big day all those years ago and see the same (younger) faces smiling back.
I suppose all I can say is that days and weekends like this make me appreciate what I have, they make me reminisce about where I've come from, and they make me grateful that people want to share this with me. I've been married to Ella for over six and a half years now, with a beautiful and intelligent and belligerent daughter in tow, and weddings make me so glad I have this. They make me glad and I can only hope the married couple share the same joy I've had in married life.
Monday 21 November 2011
Tuesday 9 August 2011
Politics and Looting and whatnot
Part of me is loathe to start talking about politics on here because I don't want to be writing a political blog. There are plenty of those already written by people far more eloquent than I. However I do have a political interest, it is part of me, I am opinionated and I do despair at where we are going.
The first thing that makes me despair is the idea that the riots in London and Birmingham are somehow a shock or a surprise. They are disgusting and disgraceful but surprising? Hardly. It's been apparent for a very long time that a section of the community has been allowed to move away from society in general to the extent where, now, they don't seem to think that they have any stake in society at all. If you have no stake in something, if you cannot see a situation where you would ever have a stake in something, then what does it matter if you set fire to it? People have a surprising and depressing ability to only feel empathy for those in their own social group, to the extent that they won't feel empathy for those who are 'outside'.
The thing that really makes me despair, though, is the sheer blatant hypocrisy coming out of the political arena. There's talk of "playing by society's rules" yet the Government- and not just the current coalition but the previous Labour and Conservative administrations- consistently and regularly fail to play by society's rules either. The real anger seems to be about the looters helping themselves to things that don't belong to them and about making people homeless due to damage.
However I'm struggling to see what the difference is between smashing Currys' window in and pinching an iPad and submitting an inflated expenses claim to the House of Commons for the purchase of an "essential" iPad. I'm struggling to see what the difference is between making someone homeless due to fire damage and making someone homeless by removing all mortgage or rent support and cutting back on unemployment and incapacity support. It's the same end result: all your stuff is lost and you have to up sticks at short notice. Especially when we consider that the welfare benefit budget cuts for the next three years total about £6billion. Which is the same amount of money Dave Hartnett told Vodafone they needn't worry about paying in tax to the Government.
When it comes down to it Vodafone's actions are really not very different to those of the looters in London. It's about getting something for nothing, failing to pay your share, taking the short cut at the expense of millions of other people. And it doesn't matter whether you lob a brick through JD Sports' window or wine and dine HMRC into "settling amicably", the end result is the same. The most vulnerable people in society will lose their homes and lose their support so that Vodafone directors can get a bigger bonus this year. There's no moral or ethical difference between taking a bonus that doesn't belong to you and taking an iPad that doesn't belong to you.
It surprises me how businesses are allowed to get away with this corporate thievery with barely a whisper yet we propose calling in the Army because someone nicked a plasma TV. Why aren't we calling for Dave Hartnett to be pelted with rubber bullets? Where are the calls for Fred Goodwin, or Adam Applegarth, or any of the other rich and powerful CEOs, to be locked up without chance of parole? That's where the real destruction is.
The Government can't argue that we should abide by the social contract when they, and their cronies, make precious little effort to abide by the social contract themselves.
The first thing that makes me despair is the idea that the riots in London and Birmingham are somehow a shock or a surprise. They are disgusting and disgraceful but surprising? Hardly. It's been apparent for a very long time that a section of the community has been allowed to move away from society in general to the extent where, now, they don't seem to think that they have any stake in society at all. If you have no stake in something, if you cannot see a situation where you would ever have a stake in something, then what does it matter if you set fire to it? People have a surprising and depressing ability to only feel empathy for those in their own social group, to the extent that they won't feel empathy for those who are 'outside'.
The thing that really makes me despair, though, is the sheer blatant hypocrisy coming out of the political arena. There's talk of "playing by society's rules" yet the Government- and not just the current coalition but the previous Labour and Conservative administrations- consistently and regularly fail to play by society's rules either. The real anger seems to be about the looters helping themselves to things that don't belong to them and about making people homeless due to damage.
However I'm struggling to see what the difference is between smashing Currys' window in and pinching an iPad and submitting an inflated expenses claim to the House of Commons for the purchase of an "essential" iPad. I'm struggling to see what the difference is between making someone homeless due to fire damage and making someone homeless by removing all mortgage or rent support and cutting back on unemployment and incapacity support. It's the same end result: all your stuff is lost and you have to up sticks at short notice. Especially when we consider that the welfare benefit budget cuts for the next three years total about £6billion. Which is the same amount of money Dave Hartnett told Vodafone they needn't worry about paying in tax to the Government.
When it comes down to it Vodafone's actions are really not very different to those of the looters in London. It's about getting something for nothing, failing to pay your share, taking the short cut at the expense of millions of other people. And it doesn't matter whether you lob a brick through JD Sports' window or wine and dine HMRC into "settling amicably", the end result is the same. The most vulnerable people in society will lose their homes and lose their support so that Vodafone directors can get a bigger bonus this year. There's no moral or ethical difference between taking a bonus that doesn't belong to you and taking an iPad that doesn't belong to you.
It surprises me how businesses are allowed to get away with this corporate thievery with barely a whisper yet we propose calling in the Army because someone nicked a plasma TV. Why aren't we calling for Dave Hartnett to be pelted with rubber bullets? Where are the calls for Fred Goodwin, or Adam Applegarth, or any of the other rich and powerful CEOs, to be locked up without chance of parole? That's where the real destruction is.
The Government can't argue that we should abide by the social contract when they, and their cronies, make precious little effort to abide by the social contract themselves.
Wednesday 3 August 2011
On changing appearances
I've always been big. If I were being blunt, I'd even say fat. I was as a child, I was as a teenager, I was at University. But in the last 18 months or so I've lost the thick end of six stone through a combination of gym, exercise and eating less junk, and I feel a lot healthier and a lot better. I've still got another couple of stone to go I reckon, and I'm almost embarrassed to admit how much I've lost, but I am starting to feel a little bit more confident. Combined with switching back to contact lenses and shaving off my beard (even though E says she liked it) I apparently look ten years younger.
And all without having to go anywhere near a psychopathic South African on channel four.
But I'm not entirely sure what to do with the new, smaller, me because men's fashion at the minute is a bit, well, crap. I've spent so long wearing dark colours and hiding away I want to be brighter but clothes in the high street seem to either be beige or florid now. I want to be brighter but I don't want to look like a sex pest. I also don't mind slim fit stuff but I'm never going to be narrow (my shoulders are mostly muscle and mostly not going anywhere now) and the emo/Russell Brand school of sartorial elegance just looks ridiculous on me.
I bought a three-piece suit from Matalan (of all places) following persuasion from E and I think it looks pretty good, especially with a nice bright shirt.
And all without having to go anywhere near a psychopathic South African on channel four.
But I'm not entirely sure what to do with the new, smaller, me because men's fashion at the minute is a bit, well, crap. I've spent so long wearing dark colours and hiding away I want to be brighter but clothes in the high street seem to either be beige or florid now. I want to be brighter but I don't want to look like a sex pest. I also don't mind slim fit stuff but I'm never going to be narrow (my shoulders are mostly muscle and mostly not going anywhere now) and the emo/Russell Brand school of sartorial elegance just looks ridiculous on me.
I bought a three-piece suit from Matalan (of all places) following persuasion from E and I think it looks pretty good, especially with a nice bright shirt.
This is all well and good when I'm "dressed to impress" but not really so good for swanning about town on Saturday mornings with Sod Baby.
I like the idea of a nice graphic t-shirt together with some good jeans and a linen jacket, a graphic t-shirt of this style:
I can't help but feel that this is just a bit bland, though. I'd sooner be bland than florid, but I just want something a bit more interesting. E is a proper vintage girl, as anyone who sees her knows and comments. I don't want to wear something straight out of the pages of The Chap but I don't want to be drab next to someone so colourful. I need ideas and inspiration and, to be honest, I'm just not getting that from the high street.
Excuse me for a while whilst I go and stroke my satchel from Karina Hesketh. I'm getting there.
Sunday 31 July 2011
Hello!
Sit down, grab a mug of tea and a slice of cake and let me introduce myself.
I'm David, I'm married to the delectable Ella and father to the even more delectable Sod Baby (OK, she's called Rosie really, but that doesn't have the same ring to it.
Things have been really hectic chez David this last couple of weeks and I'm desperately wishing it wasn't Monday morning tomorrow. Rosie has been away at my mother-in-law's in Cumbria for the last two weeks, for various complicated and convoluted reasons involving childcare, and I took the opportunity last weekend to go out with her Godfather and drink too much beer. Then it was on to a train to Stratford upon Avon for three days; sadly it was very much work not pleasure, but I did get to meet my friend Helen and her two boys after the work was done. I haven't seen her for about six years, in which time she's got married, emigrated to Australia, moved back and had two sons. There was a lot to catch up on, far more than two hours drinking tea by the river could do justice (especially with two adorable, intelligent and demanding toddlers in tow), but it was wonderful just to see them all and sit in the sun. Stratford really is such a beautiful town.
There was just enough time to indulge my inner (well, not so inner) train geek in Birmingham and then it was off to Cumbria to see Sod Baby and the in laws.
First up it was a day out in Kendal. Ella's from there originally and it still pains her mum that they ever left, but we haven't actually been there for years. There was little rhyme or reason for Kendal other than it is halfway between my parents' home in Bradford and the in laws' in the Lake District and my mum and dad haven't see Rosie for even longer than me. Rosie took care of the driving...
and it was just nice to potter about a pretty town in the hot sunshine and drink lots of lovely coffee and at ice cream and salad and cake. Ella even managed to find a vintage clothing shop, although I swear she'd be able to find one of those on the moon if she put her mind to it.
Saturday night was going out in Carlisle for a curry with Ella's schoolfriend Becky and several of her friends. I got extra Lovely Husband points by being designated driver whilst Ella and her brother had champagne cocktails and Morgan's Spiced rum and I got extra The Chap points by taking "dress to impress" literally and going out in a full three piece suit.
And now I'm back home without Ella and without Sod Baby, sipping a cider, watching the grand prix and trying to remember why I was so sniffy about Orbital's music when I was a teenager. I love my job but can someone please arrange it so that I can take my bed to work tomorrow?
I'm David, I'm married to the delectable Ella and father to the even more delectable Sod Baby (OK, she's called Rosie really, but that doesn't have the same ring to it.
Things have been really hectic chez David this last couple of weeks and I'm desperately wishing it wasn't Monday morning tomorrow. Rosie has been away at my mother-in-law's in Cumbria for the last two weeks, for various complicated and convoluted reasons involving childcare, and I took the opportunity last weekend to go out with her Godfather and drink too much beer. Then it was on to a train to Stratford upon Avon for three days; sadly it was very much work not pleasure, but I did get to meet my friend Helen and her two boys after the work was done. I haven't seen her for about six years, in which time she's got married, emigrated to Australia, moved back and had two sons. There was a lot to catch up on, far more than two hours drinking tea by the river could do justice (especially with two adorable, intelligent and demanding toddlers in tow), but it was wonderful just to see them all and sit in the sun. Stratford really is such a beautiful town.
There was just enough time to indulge my inner (well, not so inner) train geek in Birmingham and then it was off to Cumbria to see Sod Baby and the in laws.
First up it was a day out in Kendal. Ella's from there originally and it still pains her mum that they ever left, but we haven't actually been there for years. There was little rhyme or reason for Kendal other than it is halfway between my parents' home in Bradford and the in laws' in the Lake District and my mum and dad haven't see Rosie for even longer than me. Rosie took care of the driving...
and it was just nice to potter about a pretty town in the hot sunshine and drink lots of lovely coffee and at ice cream and salad and cake. Ella even managed to find a vintage clothing shop, although I swear she'd be able to find one of those on the moon if she put her mind to it.
Saturday night was going out in Carlisle for a curry with Ella's schoolfriend Becky and several of her friends. I got extra Lovely Husband points by being designated driver whilst Ella and her brother had champagne cocktails and Morgan's Spiced rum and I got extra The Chap points by taking "dress to impress" literally and going out in a full three piece suit.
And now I'm back home without Ella and without Sod Baby, sipping a cider, watching the grand prix and trying to remember why I was so sniffy about Orbital's music when I was a teenager. I love my job but can someone please arrange it so that I can take my bed to work tomorrow?
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