Well, Caz and Erin are away for a few days visiting, so no pics of little Erin on this entry.

 

BUT

 

Some great vids of "The Best Of MST3K" at the  bottom left of this site....enjoy!

Well it had to happen at some point. Erin was happily vibrating away in her new battery powered chair, when the hoover suddenly revved into life and began its journey about the room, hoovering as it went. All was well, as incredibly the hoover managed to vacuum the entire room and was heading back home to its docking station when it ran across little Erin herself.

 

Unstoppable force meets immovable object. This is their story.....

 

 

So, fairly recently we acquired a baby mobile. One of those cute little things you pop on the side of the cot that spins about and plays music. Its a lovely little thing that has lots of cuddly  frogs and chickens with huge emotive eyes. This one even blays Bach, Mozard and Beethoven. Its a corker of a device with everything you could possible want. There is only one small drawback.

 

Erin appears to live in mortal fear of it.

 

When we initally attached the device and turned it on, Erin, who normally burbles happily away, suddenly stopped making noises and stared long and hard at the animals looping their way round towards her. We took this to be a good sign, until we discovered that she would attempt to remove herself from the range of the continuously revolving mammals.

 

 

For a while it got worse before it got better

 

 

Much..much worse..

.

 

Only the perpetually staring chicken provided any solace...

 

Slowly Erin became acclimatised to her new friends

 

 

Forming the bonds that would see her through her formative months

 

Chilling out while listening to Bach

 

 

 

And it wasnt long before Erin displaying her full Irish heritage by demonstrating her genetic Riverdancing ability

 

 

We'll keep you aprised of the Erins progress with the mobile....

 

 

 

 

No need for words.

 

 

I suppose its the overwhelming experience of being a new dad which brings these things out in me. However, as I sit with my wife and baby daughter watching the telly, I feel compelled to contemplate the very nature of existence and I feel disturbed.  I feel disturbed that there are those that rejoice in a supreme being, an immortal focal point of knowledge, wisdom and love, the creator of every living creature, of every star, every planet and every blade of grass, and demand that this sustainer of all life, can favour one person, one group of people, or one country over an other. Having said this, as I sit and watch the telly with my wife and daughter I am also disturbed that anyone could possibly enjoy Property Ladder :)

 

So..what has the past couple of weeks brought us? Well Erin is gaining weight rapidly. The Health Visitor was a little startled at the increase in Erin. I on the other hand was not startled, as in fact Erin consumes more than my wife and I put together, bless her. The Health Visitor was also a little preturbed to find that Erins head was suprisingly large in relation to her body, but did try to reassure us that it was probably nothing and in fact many of these little quirks are the result of genetics rather than an indication of any health issue. Then the health visitor cast me a glance and announced that in fact everything was fine and she would have been suprised if her head was any smaller. I am not entirely sure what that meant, but I suspect it held negative connotations, for me anyway.

 

Erin has managed to find a routine which suits her perfectly. She has found a way to slip into the deepest meditative trance during the day, where she cannot be woken by anything less than an air horn. Then at 7pm she springs into life demanding entertainment from her weary parents. This continues until about 3 or 4 am whereupon she becomes bored of our futile efforts and nods off again. The old routine is beginning to wear thin after a couple of weeks and I now find that, rather than modifying the baby's behaviour to fit with our routine (as Gina Ford suggests)that instead my wife and I have now become night dwellers, only ever glimpsing the sun.

 

Its quite nice in some ways. Only a few times before had I the opportunity to hear the Dawn Chorus or see the sun rise over the Solent. I only wish I had more time to enjoy it, before I slump into unconciousness on the sofa, or in the loo or as in most cases, somewhere in between. Despite her parents lack of stamina, Erin continues to thrive. As proof I present the latest batch of photo's of the little lady herself...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, after much persuasion Erin McNamara finally decides to grace us with her presence. Erin is a wonderfully cute little girl who's interests comprise of eating, passing wind and wee-ing on her father.

.....just before it goes pitch black!

 

Is anybody.....out there?

 

Another 6 weeks of my life slips by unnoticed.

Its bye bye to the fine folk of Worcester and back to the familiar hell of london. Im not too comfortable with the epic task that stands before me this month, but I imagine I will cope the way I normally do (grab hair, scream loudly and leap out of the nearest window).

 

Permanent Secretary of Shared Services, if your reading this...."hello, ill be seeing you soon"

 

I am living the dream up in Worcester....can anyone let me know of interesting things to do up here?

Can anyone explain why the travel staff booked me into a hotel, right next to a bell tower, that seems to peel hour after hour?

 

 

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL..................................losers.....

 

:-)

another working year crashes to an end....

 

been working with the new modeler. not too bad, despite needed a mainframe to run it.

At least its better than the old one...to coin Les Dawson.

 

The epic opus of a presentation is done for the year and now i can relax, probably at least  for a couple of days and then the calls will begin. Looking forward to another "ive got 1,700 errors can i have an hour of your time..."

 

still successful few weeks, which is nice.

 

 

Went well technically. All Modeler issues sorted out.

However socially I feel i may have let myself down. Antionne, Blandine, Tatania and myself nipped out for an after work wine. All was going well. They had for the moment decided not to speak continuously to each other in french while occasionally barking a question at me and instead concentrated on engaging me in the conversation.

 

So much so in fact that when we bagan to discuss wine and one of the posse expounded on the inferiority of all wines when compared to even the most lowly french grape, I felt compelled (crazily) to reveal that at the turn of the 20century virtually all vines in france were wiped out and had to be replanted from vines from california. So how indeed could that be the case?

 

So that ended that and pretty much all conversation that night.

 

In fact i think i managed to get back to my hotel for about 8pm.

 

Heres to common sense and self control. GLUG GLUG

 

 

 

Ok ...so we all heard of St Francis of Assisi. BUT on this day, it is in fact the feast day of AGNES.

Old Agnes was born in Assisi. Sounds like a pretty rough place as at fifteen she joined Clare at the Benedictine convent of Sant'Angelo di Panzo in order to aspire to her sisters life of  poverty. I have to say at this point. That if that was her aspiration, poverty and penance. Then she must have had a VERY deprived childhood. But then I work for services, so who am I to judge?

 Anyhoo, she helped found the Poor Clares (her sister). And  St. Francis appointed her abbess of the Poor Clares' convent at Monticelli near Florence in 1219. She established convents at Mantua, Venice, and Padua, and supported her sister's struggle for poverty in their Order (how bad must your life be if you have to struggle to attain poverty?)  

 

Well thats my rant over. You may feel hard done by. But I could have chosen St Afan. His only claim to the sainthood was being both Welsh and dead. Fair play to him.

 

 

Thats right. Ever keen to keep me safe from harm and love me, the big blue machine has sent me to the middle of the riot tastic city of gay paris. "Burn him!! Burn him!!", they cry as I write my blog behing the safety of a small pair of net curtains.

 

Perhaps this is my excuse to run out into the street and just start hitting strangers about their person.

 

Oh, had a look at a few more houses today. Went to see a 3 bed detached, really really big, quite modern and possibly potentially very nice. Until the door opened and I witness a 45yr old chav tell me that she was going to sell the house and build herself a couple of flats "round the back". Effectively making us neighbours for the rest of out natural lives. Forgive me, but now I know why this place has been on the market since april at the knock down price of 185k.

 

apparently she was "open to offers"

 

 

God almighty.

 

yep, thats all.

 

i am now a married man. I can feel the will (what little i have) drain out of me, as from an upturned bottle...with its top off...(obviously). My spirit is now finally crushed and im glad....glad its finally, finally done. Indeed it would be true to say, that I have at long last, discovered the cure for hope.

 

On the bright side, the wedding was a great laugh.

The service was a little nerve racking. Turned up a couple of hours early, thinking the priest might spend a bit of time with us, letting us know what to do. But no, none of that. It was clear when he said "ohh, your early. Right well see you in a couple of hours then." that he meant for us to wing it. In fact, it seemed i had a number of roles to play in the service.  As Roger, the Brides father, helpfully cornered the bridesmaids against the wall, it was left to myselft to arrange Caz's dress. I felt I have gotten away with this, but the priest wanted to lighten the moment by booming "aah doesnt he make a lovely bridesmaid?". Which i think i did. The only tricky part of the service was just after the creed, where the priest seemed to fall asleep in his chair. A number oif silent minutes went by while Father Elliot, in his own words "meditated".

The reception was a cracker. My best mans salvo of a speech, having started precariously enough with a few odd, odd analogies, righted itself and came into its own with a presentation of a pair of frilly pink knickers for my collection. Another shining moment was the almost permanent blinding of my uncle Bernie, by my good self. Good old Uncle Bernie. That will teach him to let his guard down. Just because he is at a wedding doesnt mean he can give into sentimentality and weakness. Well not my wedding anyway.
I think i managed to endear myself to both the best mans and the ushers wives with the presentation of a ton of xbox and ps2 games. Although, i am sure that once the mens backs are turned, they have a crack at them. Everyone was drunk and everyone made a fool of themselves attemping various Irish reels. Which I think was the point of the day. On of caz's mates appeared to sever an artery having fallen to the ground and then bounced off his own pint of beer. I attempted to staunch the flow, but he insisted on telling me he was fine, while spraying me in hot, arterial red. It just doesnt seem possible to have an irish wedding without a few pints of blood being spilled somewhere.

 

Well, after the wedding, we took the "pimpmobile" over to spain. Traveled through the Basque regions. Nice. Although a scary moment came in a small fishing village called Leketio, where I thank the barmaid in the usual Spanish "Gracias". However, at that point the bar fell silent and an angry voice from the crowd, growled "Eskirgasco!! That is how you say 'thank you' in the Basque country!!" Things were strained after that. We then went down to Salamanca, a great town. If your there go to "mo mo"'s. We amazed the staff by quaffing 2 bottles of wine and consuming over 40 tapas in under an hour. The only downside to the whole affair, was the trip to the Picos Europa. A realy nice place, but blighted by the fact that it encouraged Caz (and thusly me) to do a 12 mile walk. We decided to break up the walk (which started 1000 mtrs up a mountain) by stopping at the number of 'refugios' which we were reliably informed were open 365 days a yr. Yes, we thought as we began in the torrential rain on the top of an exposed mountain, that the stop off would indeed be a good idea. Alas, after the first few miles of wind and rain and unrelenting incline, the first refugio was predictably closed. Then it was on to the second. We were really hoping this would be open, as we getting very damp and pissed off. Of course it wasnt. Finally, the "walk" began a steep descent into a valley, which was nice. Except, that as it wasnt really the season for walking around the set of Lord of the Rings, the farmers had seen fit to  release there livestock into the trail. I had decided to wear a bright red waterproof (as well as a bright red sweatshirt), which was a pity, as the bulls all seemed to get very upset as i wondered by. So much so, that in the pouring rain, in the biting wind and at the very top of a mountain, i was forced to disrobe and to walk about in merely a vest. Its hard to describe how much I enjoyed that particular excursion. Still only four hours, up a mountain, in the wind and rain, wearing only a small vest.

Toledo, has to be one of my all time fave cities. Love it. They have a great irish bar. Spent some time therel. Bought a couple of gifts. Nice.

So that was it really, accept to say how crap the art is in the guggenhiem. I mean, really, a carboard box stapled to the wall? Then 2 chairs and a bag with a bottle in it? Sorry, just dont get it. I likes what I likes I guess.

Well, im putting a few photos up of the honeymoon. so enjoy.

Ta-ta

Jon

 

 

Holy Crap!

 

Im getting married.

Well F me.

Was told to go to Hamburg this Tuesday to do a "particular thing" for a "particular company" by a "certain person". Anyhoo, i have a meeting with the people at CompanyA and they ask me my plan for the coming days. I witter on about doing my "particular thing" and after about 10 mins of me rambling on they say "hmmm vy do yoo talk of dooing zis 'particular thing', when we wish to have no such thing done?". It had appeared that I had been sold a dummy. They had never had any intention of needing "particular thing" done at all. And so I had gone all the way to Hamburg for no reason at all. Boy how my face was red.

Ah well......I wonder what next week will bring?

Well, excitement and adventure. Popped up to see Colin my coaches instructor Shaolin in Cage Rage up in lovely Wembley stadium. Shaolin gave a flawless demonstration of technique and choked out the opponent in 2nd round. Raah!

He regularly features in Shooto which is on eurosport. In al the excitement, I got lost on the way home as my sodding GPS is crapola. Good job it only cost £500. Never get an IPAQ and fit it with a Gps system. As soon as te batteries go flat, whamo, u  have to reload the software from scratch. And dont talk to me about using the backup function. THat is as reliable as, well, as me to be blunt.

Still, well don to Shaolin for his devestating performance on saturday!!!

Ta Ta

Jon