w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

We walked into Mullan’s bar in Cootehill, Co Cavan.

“Five Guinness, please.”

“Whirr youse guys from?” asked the local inebriate.

“Portsmouth” we said.

“Ah, where they hong the fokken monkay!”

“Eh?” we chorused.

“They taut it was Napoleon, and hong it.”

“No, no, that was Hartlepool” we corrected.

“Tha’s roight, Parrrtsmuth” he countered.

“You’re absolutely right” we patronised. “The whole populace of ‘Parrrtsmuth’ went down to where the Gosport ferry pulls in and hong the fokken monkey. A Guinness for our man here.”

Back from the gale-blasted Emerald Isle, where the fishing was particularly poor (mainly because of the disgusting weather) but the Guinness were grand. And the scenery. And the craich.

Fished loughs Belletrain, Baird's Shore, Corravoo, Tacker, Annaghmakerrig and Drumlona. Aren't they wonderful-sounding place names?

Glad to see CBS is back again, too...

Well, it is for me, anyway.

Tonight, I’m off down to Portsmouth, to stop over with my mate and from where we’ll leave early tomorrow morning for Ireland and ten days’ fishing.

I still haven’t decided whether to take the laptop and blog the days’ events "live". It means hogging the B&B’s landline, at a time when other anglers are doing E.T. impressions and trying to ‘phone home too?

So this post may well be the blogging equivalent of an "Out of Office" message and my loyal mass of readers might have to wait, with baited (sic) breath, for my return, with maggot dye-stained fingers and smelling of worm.

I’m sure you can all manage...

It’s a beautiful, clear, crisp day here in the City.

It’s early and the office is still quiet (well, it was when I wrote this, since which, our systems have been down for 5 hours!)

A perfect opportunity to kidnap a colleague’s monitor-mounted cuddly toy. Take Iraqi prisoner-style photos of it in jail, with an (air) gun to its head, being ‘attacked’ by an (ornamental) dobermann. Maybe even sat in a kitchen blender, waiting to be ground down into petrified tortoisemeat?

* Cackles evilly *

I volunteered to help my fully-qualified chippie brother-in-law with his sterling* makeover of our kitchen.

I insisted on replacing the blown end of a carcase, using a piece cut from scratch, rather than buy a ready-made piece of melamine. Mrs.D. looked on with utter disbelief as the new piece slotted perfectly in place, all dowel- and screw-holes aligned correctly and the edges so tight, you couldn't get a Rizla between 'em.

Easy peasy, this woody business.

*He does it for the money.

The Thames looked like Muranese glass this morning. I felt like turning right, going down to the Embankment, picking up a small motor boat and heading down river, out through the estuary out to sea.

I shouldn’t be here today. I was due to head off down to the coast on business, but with the inevitable unpredictability of my average working day, I’m back here at the ‘puter, where I’ll be counting characters. Yes, really. The FSA will have a lot to answer for, come the revolution.

And it’s dress-down day where I was scheduled to go. I’d have been spared the habitual eight hours of wearing a coloured rope around my neck – something which, at the rebellious age of c.17, I avowed I’d never succumb to. Yet here I am, many many years on, wearing one.

Still, it means I’ll be around for virtual cocktails this afternoon. Do yourself a favour and grab a seat in the lounge around 4ish. You won’t be disappointed.

Great weekend, y’all.

My brother-in-law is with us for a couple of weeks, doing major refurbishments. He took out the back door and temporarily boarded it up with industrial plywood. Dodger (the eldest Burmese) habitually makes his escape to the outside world through that door, like some feline jail-breaker, and is completely baffled by the windowless and impenetrable barrier. Bless.

Because he is going deaf (Dodger, not my brother-in-law) he’s taken to miaowing in a deep ‘voice’ which makes him sound like a rutting stag. Cute, but not when you can’t be ar5ed to get up and let him in…

We offered to take him to the pictures at the weekend (my brother-in-law, not Dodger – come on, keep up!) and he announced that he hasn’t been to the cinema for over twenty years!.

So what’s currently on that would really rock him in his cinema seat?

Been getting an unusual number of site-visits from Japanese and Spanish bloggers, of late?

CBS hasn't surreptitiously taken up flashblogging again, has he?

If you read no other blog today, read this: Robin

Link via Vaughan

Cat3 (called Lola - "Gary" just didn't stick) settled in immediately and already rules the feline equivalent of a roost.

Pix may follow - if I can work out re-sizing etc.

A colleague I've known for nigh on 25 years retires today - we're all busily engaged in inflating balloons. No, really, we're very busy!

And Cat3 gets delivered today.

Thankyou for all your name suggestion. "Gary" seems the most popular. So when anyone asks "Why did you call him Gary?" we can say "It's a she, actually" and watch the confused expression...

Have a great weekend, y'all

During the night, the Fone Fairy came and restored our landline. No call from that illustrious firm Telco, to say “Thankyou, we’ve had your money for a week now and have decided to restore your primary means of communication with the outside world”.

No, just as sneakily as they cut us off, we’re communicado again.

“Hello BT, we’re coming back!”

A really nice Thai meal in Thai Square with the London crew last night – not much atmosphere but delicious “Weeping Tiger” – beef strips marinated in chilli sauce. Mmmm.

Then home to find that Number One Daughter and visiting friend had been blackberrying in our garden and made a crumble with some spare apples. Now I’m never a ‘sweet’ type person, but Number One Son offered to heat up some custard (the last time I ate any of that was when I was about 12) and so between us it was demolished before it had gotten cold!

A nightcap of Smirnoff Blue (see you tomorrow for cocktails, Barman) and we crashed.

Btw, Zed, remembered the topic for the Lost Post. Mrs.D. suggested that I take the laptop with me to Ireland when we go fishing, so as to be able to e-mail while I’m away for ten days. As she has no interest in this site, or blogging generally, it hadn’t occurred to her that I could post the results of the day’s catch live….

What’s that? You have no interest whatsoever in fishing? Let me tell you – it’s ten years since I last visited God’s own country and (we worked it out the other day) seven years since I last fished. So I‘m hardly a Frequent Angler.

But really looking forward to it.

Unable to get through to Telco throughout the day and they close at 6.00 p.m!

How did this shower of squirrelshite manage to set themselves up as a telecommunications operation?

There's gonna be one helluva bull and cow when I do get through ...