Jimbob woofs

easing back in

2006-06-04T11:10:00.000Z

I've spent the last 6 weeks struggling through basic conceptual reframes of my ontological position. As well as trying to work out what those words mean - either individually or put toegther in some kind of order - I have been trying to write an epistemological journal.

this is very confusing and its been difficult to find the energy or even the will to blog.

hope that explains a bit

Service interdit

2006-05-31T17:31:00.000Z

This goldfish is currently experiencing the effects of a crisis of faith and a level of confusion not easily worked out of. I have been told that this is encouraging. At best it is uncomfortable moment by moment, otherwise its just weird

Abnormal service will be resumed as soon as clarity descends

IT Training

2006-04-26T13:21:00.000Z

What to do for 20-30 minutes whilst one's students are busily surfing away on the proscribed sites - BBC Webwise very good for learnign how to use the PC, V&A - very good for buying postcards and seeing Modernist things - until regulation tea time comes? Blog away.

The lack of bloggin - reflected in the lesser bloggings of the Cat, the Shark and the Laydee - might suggest a lack of life. Au contraire, life is full to bursting with change and uncertainty.

Today, I think, is Wednesday and I am at work, helping 20 members of staff understand selling membership, evacuating lifts, using computers and the latest exhibition on Modernism. All in an afternoon.

The family is still, I assume, in Tel Aviv, where the suns shines, the food is cheap and all the women are beautiful and all the men manly.

I have a bottle of red wine, some chilli and tomato sauce, some brie and some pasta for tonight.

THis much I know. The question is how do I know what I know - more anon

The view from abroad

2006-04-05T20:50:00.000Z

It seems somewhat absurd to be watching Arsenal v. Juventus with the sound down (for the sake of the sleeping kids) on the Hebrew commentation, whilst I shoudl be getting on with my thoughts on what I understand "organisation: to mean.

It is pissing down in Tel Aviv. I sort of got chucked out the flat this mrongin to wander aimlessly with the kids through Shenkin Street - a sort of cross between Camden Lock and Neal Street, without the stalls but with plenty of shoe shops and street cafes. In the end we got caught in the rain along Hemelech George (King George, named after Queen Elizabeth's Dad - strangely many of Tel Aviv's streets are named after British characters whom only appear as footnotes and statues in Whitehall). We ended up at the Dizengoff Shopping Centre - don't know who Dizengoff was, but weren't British that's for sure.

To placate a screaming Thom we had to buy a Hot Wheels set - which has gone down a treat and I am looking forward to adding to over the next few years. It has a certain dynamism that Brio train sets, nice though they are and good as a primer for civil transport system planning and desgin, just don't have.

Time for another chucking out - my host needs the computer and as I have already broken one tea cup today, I think I shoudl comply.

To bed and Paul Watzlawick's "Change: probem formulation and problem solution"

Hoorah!

in passing...

2006-03-31T22:11:00.000Z

... last weekend was taken with the writing of the draft of the assignment which is the summation of the learning from the experience of the formation of the CAG (Consulting Application Group) at Workshop 1 of Module 1 of AMOC 9. It took every night from about 10 until 2 in the morning to hit a self imposed deadline with Robin my tutor. What transpired was that I wasn't going to hit the deadline and would need an extra day. This actually suited Robin better because he was flying to DC on the Monday and we had a weird e-mail conversation about timezones and whether to talk over breakfast or lunch. In the end he rang me on Tuesday evening whilst he was digesting his lunch to inspire me to completely rewrite the 5,000 words. It is interesting to notice (this is the phrase that appears inumerous times during the assignment - it is the byword on AMOC - noticing - self reflexivity) how relieved and glad I was of the phone call. Robin didn't say it was a pile of shit. He teased out a few areas which he thought were interesting, enticed some further reflection from me, reframed the assignment and left me feeling surprisingly confident of my own abilities. Isn't that a great gift to have!

The last 3 weeks have been dominated by the draft writing and the coming 10 days will be shadowed by the handing in deadline. To quote Shakespeare "AMOC have murdered sleep" - this is because the only time I have been able to find the space and quiet to read and write has been post kids bedtime - and this haven is delayed slightly by the need to have a bit of a break from the cycle of getting up earlier than one would like after less sleep than one needs > rushing through morning rituals to get to work in time > so that one can get everything done > before one dashes back to pick up child from nursery > and then spend a few hours entertaining/feeding/bathing/story reading until they are all asleep.

Anyway we are off to Tel Aviv tomorrow for a) 4 weeks or b) 2 weeks if you have to come back to go to work and also do their masters course. We leave tomorow afternoon with the joyful discovery of being able to put a friend on the car insurance for free and have them drive you to Heathrow [a buggy, a large car seat, three suitcases, two kids and the missus panicking towards check in does not work on public transport] . In Tel Aviv I will be finding new ways of finding space to write a 5,000 word assignment encouraged by the presence of not only my family but my family's family. I hope to blog the experience.

One slightly worrying moment at the last workshop was discovering that a fellow participant was a) over a similar age, b) had been active the city of my university at the same time as I was studying, and c) had been not only a goth but then a psychobilly . Suffice to say that I had knowledge of some women from such tribes during that same period and I had to ask whether we had known each other previously. We agreed that it was unlikely. Phew!

2006-03-19T17:54:00.000Z

much seems to be passing me by at present. Ring shaped potato snacks are flying through the ether and the air at in alarming quantities

The hula hoop obsession that has been plaguing the New York, London, Paris, Munich (everyone's talking 'bout Pop Music) - well not really but since the Jazzshark flew into to town on her round the family world tour its noticeable that United Biscuits (parents of KP Foods) share price has risen on both the Dow and the Nikkei. Baroness CNL of Hernewich is feeding the frenzy.

For those unaware of the small ring-shaped snacks made from processed dried potatoes I do recommend Taquitos.net for the definitive online resource for ring-shaped snacks and all other snackable foodstuffs. Their reviews of over a thousand different "sometimes foods" as the Cookie Monster would have it, are invaluable for the committed conoisseur of cheesy crispy crunchy comestibles

And apologies for the crude reference to M's seminal throw away track - but hunting it down did lead me to the Space Age Pop Music site - I do recommend their Space Age Pop broadcast for an endless stream of listening designed for cocktail lounging.

2006-03-13T22:58:00.000Z

I got a comment from laydee hernewich asking if I was still chanting?

I took this to be a polite enquiry as to why there was not al ot happening on the page over the past week or so. Interestingly the lack of blog is not an indication of lakc of things happening to talk about, rather the opposite, so much going on that there is no time to stop and think, or rather to reflect. The blog is a great place to set down thoughts, release rant, and throw things out into the ether to see what bounces back.

I am in heavy active reflective mode (as well as theoretical mode) as I was at the big school Thu-Sat last week. 3 days residential, away from the family, more grub than you can shake a very large fork at and people accepting of my particular stream of consciousness thinking. In fact the noticing and commenting and reflecting is actively encouraged. My Triumph motorbike driving professor, said that we should take the opportunity to “honour” the quality of the conversations that we have on our AMOC get togethers.

Have to admit that the conversations one has at home, in the pub on Tuesday night, at work in the office, with passing drivers on the daily commute are not of the same nature. Not that that makes them bad in any way – just there does seem a need for me to outpour on occasion. This usually happens when the night extends out and the alcohol is present.

My Lenten denial is going to plan – i.e. 40 days and 40 nights without alcohol, except when its Tuesday night or when its AMOC. SO far that has meant only 3 days out of the last week have been dry!!

Probably the biggest influence on the whole blog-down-time was the weekend previous when I got about 1 hour to myself in the course of 4 days. Purely by accident the missus was going out on the Friday night, out all day Saturday, out till 2pm on Sunday and then in need of a sleep until about 5, and then out on the Monday night. I don’t count the period after lights out when the kids are down for the night, because this is inevitably tidy up the mess, wash the dishes (that don’t ift in the dish washer), do the laundry, hoover the mess, relay the mouse traps (yes, we have a mouse or mice who like to visit my wife in the evenings – she is very vocal in her discomfort and that does have an affect on my ability to get off to sleep if by some miracle I am in bed before midnight) and generally sort things out for the next day.

I managed to notice (whilst in the maelstrom of frustration) that it is not about tiredness it is about feeling trapped and not having any time to let thoughts settle, no time to find a bit of personal space. The cycle is one of growing frustration then anger and after that depression. Not very healthy and I do need to find some way of subverting this cycle.

I have to say that all the thinking and reading and “what the xxxx does that mean”ing which the course is throwing up has brought me to this nice cyclical view point. The need is therefore to create or enable a secondary order of change to assist the better functioning of my beleaguered brain.

I am going to have a chat with the boss to see if I can find some new ways of working – from home every now and again, from the library, from across the road, from a distance, from a trapeze, from a view to a kill – which can try

The basic Buddhist tenet of changing yourself to change the environment that surrounds you, the Donne-ian view “no man is an island” and the Ghandi-ian view of “be the change you want to see” seems to be the appropriate one here. Change the way I do things to change the environment around me.

Before I chant...

2006-03-03T22:43:00.000Z

... just thought I'd let you know thqat the beard and tache have gone. Ashridge Business SChool filmed me , my boss and the V&A for thier corporate video - coming to a website near you in the next month or so. At the time I was clean shaven. Since I'm going up there on Thursday to what I tell Thom is Daddy's School with sleepovers, the film team want some more "GVs". SO for continuity's sake, I've had to trim the foliage.

I've also given up booze for Lent, with the exceptions of Tuesday's pub quiz and the days (and nights) I'm at Ashridge. There is a dinner with the faculty on Thursday where the wine will flow and as I am paying for it out of my fees, I thought it would be a waste not to partake.

The Shark is in town and is probably living the life of a Dullhill Hernewich with Catster and Laydee Codename (who's other half (the top one) is pretty impressive) throughout South London. Being teetotal and beset by kids (now asleep), am stuck at home. The missus is out being a buddhist with other laydees of that persuasion, and hopefully has ended up in the pub. Something she needs to do more often.

Well time for chanting

just another day...

2006-03-03T10:46:00.000Z

In the office next to mine

Appearing at the Mormon church next door

yawn

2006-03-01T14:24:00.000Z

I know that most of my bloggin concerns sleep - lack of, need for, distant memory of, nostalgia for... All my own fault though. Last night was a pub quiz night and after a memorable pancake dinner - the new pizza pancake (grated cheese, pesto, oregano and ketchup) worked very well for thom who is becoming very UK in his eating habits (we wait to take the marmite test with him, in trepidation) and Gal,. who'll try anything and will probably eat a bit of it - I escaped to the pub for a smoky few pints of Guinness and the joy of winning. A jet lagged well spoken Englishman from Hollywood (not an actor... well, not one we recognised) was sitting at our table and we co-opted him for the night. Well Celia did as he was sponge-worthy.
Despite not listening to him, we still won to bring the year's stats as follows: 9 Tuesdays - 2 unplaced, 5 seconds and 2 firsts.

Me and Celia are setting the quiz next week - I think a picture round of moustaches would be good.

relief

2006-02-27T22:41:00.000Z

The assignment has been handed in and the kids are getting through the pox. Lent starts on Wednesday and I won't be drinking much. So I am working on a bottle of wine.

Since the last update on the assignment ("a bloody good start") I have, as ever, struggled to find the time to rewrite and polish. 3,000 words is a hell of a lot - haven't done anything like since I was at university 20 years ago, and not much then to be honest. Drama wasn't that sort of course. Very practical (though less acting than you would think). FUnnily enough bumped into the executive director of theNational Theatre on Satruday in my favourite bike shop - Edwardes of Camberwell. Desptie the fact aht we were buying a tagalong bike so that I can take him to school in the Autumn, Thom was less than impressed. He was wearing a zebra pattern hat, a purple chenille scarf and some (Timmy Malet-esque) rainbow sunglasses - this is what the fashionable CBeebies man is wearing this week. Whilst I held Gal (in large fake fur white coat - very Hollywood) and talked to Gary, the shop boss and all round great bike seller, Thom was doing his "I'm so mature I'm a moody teenager and have lost the use of my arms" act. A man, looking at bells and whistles, honked a horn at Thom who disregarded him with a certain amount of disdain - I think its called "being cool", though Thom is very keen on "being a policeman" and helping people. The man looked up and I found myself in one of those "who'd have thought I'd bump into you on the 68 bus route" moments say8ing "Are you Nick Starr".

I recognised Nick because he has recently been a speaker on one of the management courses that we run at the V&A and Tate Gallery. Very nice man indeed. And a possible convert to the two wheel hegemony (dont know what that means, just like the word).

Working on Masters course days tend to start at about 9pm as that is when the house falls quiet - unless of course our lodger the mouse appears. The missus is known to run through brick walls at the sight of a cockroach (don't even say the word in her presence, because I am not exagerrating about her running skills!), but tones things down for mice. Just a few minutes of screaming "Akbar! Akbar!" which is hebrew for mouse (I'm just just guessing, but it seems like a good bet). There is also the pause for the "I just have to check my email" moment which always lasts longer than foretold and usually has a large grumpy sigh which signals my reincarnation as London stylee TH and another half an hour goes down the proverbial.

I worked Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights to re-write the assignment - providing an informing structure, mapping the events and giving a fuller explanation of my understanding of Argyris and Schon's Model OII learning model - who says study isn't secy.

Finished it at 2am this morning. Sent it off this morning after a few typos were found creeping back into the text under the guise of Portuguese spellings - a clever ruse, but somewhat defeated by the complete lack of use of Portuguese as an informing language construct throughout the first 4,539 words.

The boss is away and so is my guilt for being 5 minutes late each day and leaving, sometimes, 15 minutes early. It is all a hangover from managing orchestra recording sessions and having a Calvinist granny.
So I spent the first hour of the day re-tyring the bicycle and then retubing them as the inners kept popping under pressure and pinching.

My reward is the droopiness of the tired man, someone who doesn;t kow what it is like to watch a DD from beginning to end, who thinks 11pm is an early night, and who can argue that Walkers shortbread does fulfill the need for each of the five fod groups in an unhinged diet.

I've grown a beard as well - more a goatee and tache set. My dear chum the Nederlander (not so obscure reference to SE London musical dictatorship) trombonist says he can see me going grey now.

Tomorrow is Shrove Tuesday and, of course pub quiz night (so far this year we've had 2 unplaced, 1 first and the rest second place) so I shall be imbibing for the last time (except for pub quiz nights and the 3 days at Ashridge for the Masters) until Palm Sunday or the beginning of Pesach, whichever is soonist.

i might give up biscuits as well

just a blog at twilight..

2006-02-20T22:28:00.000Z

... afore the study begins.

For those gripped by the saga of whether I would get my assignment in on time (like a bad episode of HollyOaks) I did e-mail the draft of to my tutor a week ago and we had a short but sweet telephone conversation where it was suggested that I investigate some areas which I skimmed over a bit, expound on my understanding of Argyris and Schon's Model II of organisational learning, and provide an informing structure. pace Shark, but stream of consciousness is one thing, getting it to make sense is quite another.Sir said it was a "bloody good start" and was most encouraging. I am hopeful there fore that I am not about to be chucked of the course before it really starts and after I have committed the dosh.

Meanwhile back in the batcave - Thom has a torch which shines a batman silhouette. It came as part of a bundle I got sent by BBC London for some spurious remarks I made in response to a quiz or something. He's happy withthat.

Gal, unfortunately, has contracted the pox and is even more spotted than Thom was. She's even got spots on her tongue. This means, therefore, that I am covered in calamine lotion has I try to easy the torment of the spots. Thom was a brave wee fella. Gal is being a brave and game wee gal.

Shahid's back on the sandwiches

2006-02-16T13:28:00.000Z

Today it is a curry sandwich. He also brings in a hrad boiled egg.

Last night, despite the stomach ailment and the general lingering lurgy and in spite of the kids, was an evening of sweetness and light spent with the missus . Thom is bored that he's been away form nursery (or School as we like to call it) for nearly 2 weeks because of the pox and half term. Nezek is the Hebrew word for damage or destruction. And Madame Gal is becoming a master in the art. Nothing is sacred, nothing is safe. I don't care if your carpet cost £1,500,000 - it ain't going to stop her.

Anyhow, the missus and I are escaping tonight to the theatre. The first time we have been away together for.... err...... er, a long time. Going to the Barbican to see Robert Lepage - should be fab.

More anon

Heaven and Hell

2006-02-16T00:43:00.000Z

The week of hell is over, I hope. The lurgy is passing slowly - I now just have a stomach complaint of gripey blocked nature (its karmic retribution for the stickle brick incident) and a chest infection with sore throat and head aches. And so I am up at 1am unable to sleep, trying to bore myself to slumber by blogging.

The draft assignment was handed in and my tutor replied "I think you've made a great start". I like the "great", the "start" bit leads me to think there is some more writing to do. 3,500 words - haven't written that much in 20 years.

What I didn't tell you about the sticklebrick - flush - overflow situation was that it came as part of a package. I'd been off work for a day with this lurgy virus so was not really up to snuff. I was starting to get very twitchy about the assignment not having written a word. The loo was overflowing. The kids were on half term so no rest. The broadband was still down and no end was in sight. I took Thom to a kid very friendly gallery/cafe for a run around with a friend whilst me and her mum drank coffee and told each other our woes. It was clear that she didn't really want us to pop over afterwards, but the telephonic persuasion of the missus got us all going in that direction.

My friend is a dear friend and there is very little that I would not do for her. Her heart is in the right place and she has a lovely sense of humour. Her house, though, by her own admission mind, is not child friendly. This seems odd as she has a child. What was supposed to be a calming relaxing chill out for me turned into a tightrope of tension as my stress levels rose higher and higher as I was told of another very expensive object that the kids should not touch, not swing upon, not through blocks at.... it didn't that this child unfriendly abode had a new puppy as well. Gal, who was also present by now, was given a cup of Ribena - remember that Shark? - which promptly poured on the floor. "Oh my God! That's a £1500 carpet.!!" My stress exits through top of thermometer in spray of mercury and I become gibbering wreck wondering how much it would be to book myself into Priory and whether I could get sectioned under the NHS for free.

I manage to get it together enough to drive everyone home to await arrival of Mr Chong the plumber. He duly arrives with plumber's mate to take loo apart adnd unblock it. The fee - a lift to Tooting and then a lift home - cheap at the price, with the added bonus of some time away from the mayhem.

Is this heaven

2006-02-10T23:55:00.000Z

Is this heaven…?

The broadband connection is back.
I am working wirelessly downstairs, listening to a recording of Maria Schneider’s big band on Jazz on 3, whilst writing my assignment, with the kids asleep and a glass of whiskey to my hand.

And the loo is clean

still looking for it

2006-02-10T15:20:00.000Z

Stickle Brick + Flush = overflow. Mr Chong the plumber is a true friend.

Yesterday was not a good day.

Losing it

2006-02-07T13:45:00.000Z

Thom is getting better, thank goodness. He's been very brave not scratching the pox as they came up everywhere. They are dying down and drying out now.

I came home at 4 yesterday feeling very shivery and achy. The network had been down all day and it was impossible to do any work. The boss reckoned I was in shock having a had a near death moment courtesy of a white Ford deciding to turn left across a bus lane and my bike.

All the household was asleep catching up on the broken sleep so I settled down for a bit of TV. By 5 all were up again and we returned to the usual evening routine.

It being Monday, the missus was off out to a class and I put the pups to bed. It was a bit slow as I was feeling so shivery and the normal Monday night "all done and dusted by 8 with time to tidy up and then watch University Challenge before getting on with the buddhist stuff and some study" had to go by the by. Thom settled at 9.15.

A little bit of tidying up later and I was ready to do the B stuff. Thom appears all bright and happy and the evening is lost. Bang goes the B stuff, bang goes the reading, bang goes a start at the 3,000 word essay.

The missus got back about 11 by which time I was about to put my head through a wall in frustration. A late night, less sleep and more to do the next day. No internet connection at home, a lost day's work, a lost night's sleep, deadlines a plenty and a fail on this assignment would see me off the course owing £6,500.

I lost it...

... smashed plates, headbutted doors, dented pans.

Not nice, not funny - just more frustration than I can manage.

A pox on ye...

2006-02-06T11:49:00.000Z

No.1 son has chicken pox

and the weekend was spent at home with the non-working internet connection and the dodgy vhs machine. We had to get the very nice Mr Osborne from Osbonre Services (Lee Green - highly recommended) to come over and replug in the borrowed VHS, check it over and remind us to clean the heads by doing a fast forward - even if you have to do a few times it really does work.

Wanadon't are still playing extremely silly buggers - this weekend they hung up on me twice, gave me a dodgy telephone number to ring (which charged me 50p a minute), told me it would be fixed in 1 day and then told me it would be fixed in 5 working days. The latest assurance is 3-4 days. More anon - though I will be using some of the tactics that I found just by googling for other victims. Great for getting office numbers for the culprits.

The up side is that the missus who usually describes me as an english fish is now becoming extremly proud of my hour long rantings to Wanahaven't and says that I am becoming a Mediterranean beast. She purrs when she hears me threaten "all manner of things, I know not what" or when I recount tales of cyclist rage.

In the buddhist sense I am actually climbing up the Ten Worlds (not to be confused with Maslow's Heirarchy of needs. After 2004, the year of moving house and having a second child, I moved from the 3rd world of Animality (... fear) and have spent the rest of the time in Anger - a higher world. What with AMOC, I am hoping to jump over Humanity and Rapture (sad, I know but they are considered as lower worlds) to Learning.

Sleep suffice to say is at a premium. Thom was up 5 times last night and therefore so was I He's been really good about not scratching but is having an awful time of it. Despite his obvious illness, the missus has not allowed us (for I must be there to support my offspring) to lie on the sofa watching videos non-stop.

Swings and roundabouts

2006-02-03T13:19:00.000Z

Controlled Crying and the management of sleep are big business in the baby and infant business. Not surprising since it is a constant focus of my life and blog.

No.2 small person is still waking up in the night, but less freqently and the courageous minsterings of her mother have meant the marital bed is returning to its dualist nature.

However, His No.1-ness has increased his nocturnal waking by a factor of +1. This has gone along with his discovery that milk is the elixir of life and will drop everything to have a glug of the white stuff.

Last night was one to forget, if only I could. The cold weather - not as bad as Berlin - does make the nocturnal facilitation of a small bladdered boy a frosty experience. The shock of cold tiles on sling flopped feet left me unable to sleep so I lay awake contemplating double loop learning models for application to a work group of over 120.

I gave up after an hour as it wasn't making me sleepy enough and went downstairs to chant only to find a notice on the living room door "There is a mouse in here". I applied spotlight to all hidden areas and not finding any rodent did gongyo and then returned to Middlesex which did get me off to sleep at about 4.30.

His No.1-ness then wandered in at 5.30 declaring it was morning and that he wanted more milk. I manage to string him along until about 6.10 and then we had to get up and battle the frost.

Reflecting upon the day before, I reminded him of my colleague Ray who came with me to his nursery to talk about Chinese New Year. Ray is partially sighted.

"Do remember Ray's white stick?"
"Yes"
"Do you know why he has it?"
"No"
"Ray can't see very well and it helps him"
"OooooH!. I thought he had one leg"

Life is sweet, but milk goes sour.

AMOC aftermath

2006-01-30T14:08:00.000Z

My brain is aching like an unused muscle after a 1500m dash.

I didn't realise how tiring two days of thinking could be. I got home on Friday evening to find family plus Bethan and mum Sarah eating spaghetti bolognese in loud and messy form. Missus was remarkably supportive - I had worried that she might have crumbled under the strain of No.1 Son and the Galster. Granny C had "been an angel" the day before and Granpa J had come over to see grandchilds and celebrate a surprise birthday party. Thom had made a card and Thomas the Tank Engine cupcakes, one of which received a candle. Thom was also able to present a bottle of Granpa Juice.

I reverted to my usual nocturnal habits - get to the third story with Thom and fall asleep myself, waking up at 1am in order to brush my teeth.

Saturday and Sunday were spent ranting at Wanadoo (or Wanadon't as I shall now call them) who in their attempt to "upgrade" our local network lost us our telephone line and broadband connection. The phone line came back after 4 days, the broadband is gone and won't be back for a while.

Its amazing, when you do a google, how many people have had similar problems with wanadoo. i now have the direct number of the Customer Relations Specialist and i will use it if I don't get satisfaction (which includes at least 1 month free).

So I have to do all my browsing and blogging at work - whilst trying to do some work and thinking about my first assignment

Produce a written account of what in your own assessment you have learned from you own experience. Consulting is a complex process and it is often not possible, or helpful to separate it out into discrete chunks. You are encouraged to "tell your development story" and to demonstrate a clear orientation towards reflexive praxis through the way that your represent your reflections.

We will look for evidence of your learning capabilities in these following three areas:
The application of your learning to consulting practice
Critical reference to appropriate theory
Increasing personal awareness through reflexive practice.

Oh Hell!

AMOC 9

2006-01-26T22:15:00.000Z

Not a sci-fi programme from the US that has recently landed on CHannel 5, but the acronym of the Ashirdge Masters in Organisational Consulting (Year 9) that I have justed started.

i am sitting inan empty "internet cafe" in a business school library in a former monastery in the middle of Hertfordshire after a very nice dinner of onion and goats cheese tart, venison and multiple puddings.

First night away from the family for months and months.

Much much much to think and about and reflect upon.

More and more and more anon as I start ot use the Blog as a way to list and record my thoughts as I embark on this reflective programme of hopefully improvement.

Fantastically interesting people (and a tutor who played a CD of John COltrane's Meditations during the first meeting!)

WOw. More anon!!!!

More ThomThink

2006-01-25T10:48:00.000Z

in the bath..
"Thom, have you washed your face?"
"Yes"
"Then why isn't your face wet?"
"I used dry water"

Shahid 2 - the sandwich returns

2006-01-25T10:34:00.000Z

Shahid is now back with the sandwiches. There is a consistency in his cuisine as he is sticking with Tuna Mayo, a cheese croissant and a boiled egg. He is following the Rene Caryol series on BBC2 and cutting his spending down.

I have been cutting our spending at home to overcome the pending bankruptcy, poverty and general feeling that we can't afford the Tesco Value range. I used a site suggested by The Guardian to switch all our utilities and credit cards and phone line. Since then the phone line has gone down. That is thanks to our, to date, very good broadband suppliers who very kindly took over half of our local exchange in order to speed things up and in the course of this have f**ked up our phone and broadband.

Anyway my major coup this week has been to identify a source of home insulation - a skip outside our office - and nab, for free, 8 rolls of loft insulation, furthering the cause of recycling and keeping my money away from the DIY stores.

Tomorrow I go back to school. More anon

Quartets for experiencing

2006-01-17T00:03:00.000Z

4 performances that I will never forget and by which all other performances are judged in the hope that I might once again experience the other worldly feeling of complete absorption, delight and wonder

1. The Mahabarata directed by Peter Brook
2. Tectonic Plates written and directed by Robert Lepage
3. Needles & Opium written and directed by Robert Lepage
4. A Minute Too Late written and performed by Theatre de Complicite

thom art

2006-01-16T16:21:00.000Z

Quartets for reading

2006-01-16T16:06:00.001Z

4 books i might chose if I was on Desert Island Discs and Sue Lawley decided to chuck the format out the window after over 40 years and allow me have 5 records and 4 books - of course I might want the 8 records, but if she held me down and threatened to pummel if I don't go with the new deal... well, this is what i would probably say, given enough time to think. As it is recorded they could edit the thinking time out so you wouldn't hear the threat or the thinking

1. Euclid's Elements
2. "Life a User's Manual" by George Perec
3. The Lotus Sutra
4. "Glass Bead Game" by Herman Hesse

Quartets for living

2006-01-16T15:49:00.000Z

4 places I have lived

1. Blackheath
2. Exeter
3. Ealing
4. Norwich

Last words

2006-01-15T19:46:00.000Z

There have been a few comments asking for my thoughts on Donna Tartt's "The Little Friend". I was a bit disappointed with it to be honest. I honestly can't remember much about "The Secret History", but seem to recall that after a tragic murder at the beginning of the book not much happens over a number of years while people go through some kind of rites of passage until not a lot of outcome at the end. Sort of the same as "The Little Friend". It does have a good last line though

"Say what you want to, I don't care" he said, "But she's a genius."
Pem laughed. "Sure she is," he said, as he headed out the door. "Compared to you"

which isn't bad

Not as good as my all time favourite from George V. Higgins.

"Fuck Nietzche." Beale said. "he's never aroudn when you need him"

Though I point you in the direction of this article finishing sentence from Gaby Wood's Observer article last week

equal-opportunity farting - now that's what I call progress.

Darkest before dawn

2006-01-13T11:04:00.000Z

The lurgy is now behind us, though all in the family have a propensity to snoring that hints at adenoids, but the sleep patterns are now completely shot. Despite Tuesday night's pub quiz -Thom Daddy drinks daddy juice and get wibbly wobbly) [also http://www.wibbly-wobbly.co.uk/gallery.htm is very weird], we came second a second week running which is consistent and provides 6 free drinks, and more importantly we beat our arch rivals Feeding the Ducks - when I managed to stay awake beyond 9 o'clock, each night has been a test of willpower to get beyond the third Thomas the Tank Engine story to the great Thom [listening to the radio in car as we got home from nursery there appeared Elliot Carter's Three Occasions For Orchestra: A Celebration Of 100 X 150 Notes - his first utterance was "That's spooky", then at the end "Its not scary really, Daddy. Its only music"] before I fall asleep on the big bed with the slightly disappointed Thom who wanted a fourth and fifth reading. Mademoiselle Gal's sleep pattern has gone out the window and she consequently wakes and screams at 3am most nights. Wednesday it took us nearly 2 hours to get her back to sleep properly.

So, the house is a mess, I've done no reading for the AMOC which starts in two weeks time, have not got through to the computer helpline to get them to put the DVD tray back in the DVD player - its great having kids, you can blame the damage from your own clumsiness upon them - not swept away all the gravel in the garden/backyard to make it cyclable for the intrepid Thom and birthday present, not fixed the broken leg on the dining room chair, not re-wired the video so that it actually works, not really lived much at all!

After a night awake (sleep patterns are shot to pieces, as I said) finishing the last 150 pages of The Little Friend and then starting Middlesex I was alerted this morning just before leaving for work by the phone. An 8 o'clock call is unknown in our household unless it is my mother wanting to ask me something which could wait until I have upheld the trust that my employers invest in me by turning up on time for work. I picked up the phone and was greeted by "hello, here is a song about rain" and there followed a Hebrew song about rain. At the end of it (about 3 minutes) I was able to confirm my sister in law of her complete insanity, speaking from experience of course. Though...

... at times like these I start to wonder in an RD Laing-ian way whether my own apparent insanity is actually normality

Quartets 5

2006-01-07T11:51:00.000Z

Four Quartets by TS Eliot
Quartet No. 1: Burnt Norton
Quartet No. 2: East Coker
Quartet No. 3: The Dry Salvages
Quartet No. 4: Little Gidding

Who am I?

2006-01-07T11:48:00.000Z

In Superhero terms I am Super(wo)man, the sort of righteous, indestructible do-gooder the world is crying out for. I use your uncanny powers for good, not ill. I amupright, resolute and just a wee bit boring.

How very true

Saying Hello..

2006-01-06T16:29:00.000Z

Thom is fascinated by language and is collecting hellos in different languages. He has English, Hebrew, French, Chinese (Mandarin and Cantonese) and, for some reason, York.

With talk of sharks and visiting cats and elves, the Yorkshire 'Ow do is now, according to Thom, that people in New York say "Owl Do" which, he says, is something that Owls do.

You do the math. Gei Weiss

Quartets 4

2006-01-06T16:23:00.000Z

My four favourite string quartets
1. Schubert Quartetsatz
2. Ravel String Quartet
3. Schubert "Death and the Maiden"
4. Janacek String Quartet no.2 "Intimate Letters"

Quartets 3

2006-01-04T20:47:00.000Z

With the help of my elf

Your Elf Name Is...

Holly Cartwheels

What's Your Elf Name?

here are

Four Films I could see over and over, especially if I had the whole afternoon and wanted to go on somey trippy out of my head trip kind of thing, dude

1. A Matter of Life and Death

2. The Sacrifice

3. Blood Simple

4. Apocalypse Now

Quartets 2

2006-01-04T00:11:00.000Z

Four Children's TV personalities/characters that I would like to savage in the guise of my daemon animal
1. Barney
2. Little Cook from Big Cook Little Cook - he's the ginger one
3. Big Cook from Big Cook Little Cook
4. Josie Jump from Balamory

My TIGER DAEMON shows an unmistakable aura of
pride, resilience, and aggression. My balance
of impatience and inspiration make you a
creative leader, although you are prone to
dangerous extremes.

What Animal Would Your Daemon Settle As?
brought to you by Quizilla

Quartets, a beginning

2006-01-03T13:09:00.000Z

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. door to door boxer short salesman
2. Directeur des Concerts
3. leek planter
4. beachfront pierrot

Number Theory

2006-01-03T13:04:00.000Z

"Thom, you know that I love you very much"
"10?"
"No, much bigger than 10"
"100?"
"Much Much bigger than that, Thom!"
"Ah ... 32"

Christmas or Midsummer?

2006-01-03T13:01:00.000Z

25-12-05, Budleigh Salterton, Devon

apparently...

2005-12-29T19:50:00.000Z

... hippos are more dangerous than sharks in water, killing more humans than sharks every year in Africa ...

... not that you get many sharks Africa.

lurgy

2005-12-29T19:42:00.000Z

again a pause in blog as tiredness, fatigue or, as in this case, lurgy descends.

Gal has lurgy
Thom has lurgy but is getting better
Sarit has had lurgy

Now I have lurgy. And nothing like a 200 mile traffic jam of a drive after a week of nights broken by lurgy'd children and a lurgy'd wife not wanting to get up to help one feel more lurgy'd.

Even a trip to Tesco, which in certain parts of the Middle East appears to have the same mystical properties as Guiness has in parts of Eastern Africa, has done nothing more than make me feel more lurgy'd.

Christmas in Budleigh has been and gone - more anon, post lurgy.

freedom and incarceration

2005-12-19T16:39:00.000Z

Friday provided a rare glimpse of what real people do. Pupster No1 and the Puplette went for a sleepover at Thom's friend Lilith (3 years old a mixture of Czech, Oz and Southend on Sea). It was interesting to hear, on my whispered farewell that morning to Thom (he gets upset if he doesn't see and have breakfast with me before I go to work. This is very touching but the tantrum that erupts if he wakes just as I am going out the backdoor can be somewhat diverting - enough to make me miss a train, should I be catching one, which of course is quite rare as I am dedicated to bipedular transport), "Daddy, tonight I am sleeping with Lilith!". His harem is developing.

His mother and I were able to attend the first annual Xmas party of the SitCom Trials/SitsVac members, led by the Kev F Sutherland, artistic director of The Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre and caricaturist. Kev has been described a "Pant-wettingly funny". He is very nice but we managed to get away without any changes of underwear. We ate rather small pizzas in Soho listening to the Earl Lewis Duo , the leader of which (or should we say the one who did the talking - the other one said nothing) had hair that could only be described as James Brown meets loft insulation. We returned to Lilith's (myself driving, having restricted myself to the two glasses of wine in 4 hours) and pciked up a sweet smelling and curly topped Puplette who then allowed us to sleep through to 9.30. A delightful extesnion of our normal sleeping hours, but a bit of a bugger if you have to be off at 10am to your mum's for lunch.

Managed to make to her's with all on board (despite a hangover for one party) only 90 minutes late, something remarked upon by the 4 aunts and 3 uncles who were also present and hungry.

Thom was, by now, declining. Despite the provision of a new trainset (Tomy - not as good as Brio, IMHO), he became quieter and quieter, in need of more and more snuggles, finally saying in a weak and feverish voice that he wanted to go home.

Both he and, it transpired, I, had been hit by the general lurgy that is going around.

Sunday was spent with himself in and out of bed, on and off the sofa, in and out of the Tesco trolley as we shopped, and then in and out of the bath before being back in (and out at about 2.30 for a wee)

His first word this Monday morning were "Daddy, I am still poorly, I'm afraid".

I, of course, was cyclo-togged and ready to leave for another winding down for Christmas day at the office...

... of which, more (or less) anon. Or, as the Rabbi at the South London Liberal Synagogue said of Hanukah a week ago, OR my father (his Imperial Pompousity - to whom we travel on Christmas Eve) would say... in due course

new string old rope

2005-12-14T13:40:00.000Z

My neighbour 2 down the hill (the closest neighbour runs the local DIY shop in Ladywell and sometimes allows me credit) is Paul Klee. He's off to Germany for the Christmas holidays and has asked me to babysit his line for him. Very easy to look after just take for a walk once a day

As it is bring a string week at work, I thought I take the line in on my bike to the office.
Already a bit of a disappointment for the line, as Shahid is not in today. But I explained that Shahid is not bringing sandwiches in at the moment, so the line wouldn't be missing anything.

Have been for our constitutional already - round the block taking in the delights of the Polish Cultural Club, the Royal Geographical Society and a large white Mormon church. It is quite difficult taking a line for walk. You constantly get stopped by passerbys hoping to find out how long is a piece of string - but, as I have to say, you can't really be accurate. Where does a line begin and where does it end? At which point the line usually trails off and the passerby leaves, feeling puzzled and slightly hard done by.

I did try once to drive across the US in a hire car with the desire of getting myself lostin the desert (probably around Arizona) and then finding my way out before it got scary. Things didn't quite work out that way I had to take the train to San Francisco. Now, out walking with a line, it is impossible to get lost as it has this habit of not catching up fromthe moment you leave and you just retrace your steps before the street cleaners come by ravelling up.

Frightening

2005-12-13T09:31:00.000Z

"Daddy can I have a chocolate?"
"Well, maybe when you have eaten all your supper, one will appear"

... nearly 4 year old pauses and then, with withering look, "No Daddy. Things don't appear. You have to buy them"

?

2005-12-12T23:11:00.000Z

"You and socks do not have a good karma" my wife has just told me.

Make of this what you will

Damsels in distress

2005-12-12T22:30:00.000Z

In another era it was ok for James Brown to declare "this is a man's world" and not be decried for excluding 52% (and rising) of the world's population. However, tonight - a Monday, a day without Shahid and his sandwiches (we await his return to work for he is part-time upon the morrow and news of breaded slices and tasty incumbents) - I feel fine (to quote JB once more) yet too many women seem unhappy.

The missus is downstairs chanting (nam myoho renge kyo). She went to a casting on Saturday and didn't get a recall and is subsequently feeling rather depressed.

Laydee Brockwell is missing the Shark and has been feeling unloved.

And the Shark is having to deal with compliments from Mrs N (sounds good, but is in fact well wierd) and has a sudden T-Shirt envy for across the Atlantic.

Und Die Elf von Berlin has a cut above her eye and a broken arm.

Only the Catster is having fun - swooning over Jude Law and seeing too many famous people for one Herne Hilliard to cope with.

Such is life. I sit here, hemmed in by a new computer purchased on the never never never tax efficient HCI blag from work, still working on this tired old laptop with little bits of paper stuck to the keys to indicate the Hebrew letters, hoping that the Mr Chong will turn up at the pub quiz with my drill so I can fix the chair I bought for my wife last year to shut her up about getting a new chair for the dining room (grand sounding, I know, but its a room and we dine in it - or rather we take evasive action from the Galster who is to table manners what Monica Lewinsky is to Bill Clinton - sloppy on the hand mouth co-ordination front) and that Pauline (Queen of the Jolly Jelly Fish) brings the beer tokens in tomorrow in order that the night is a cheap one, and of course, that Shahid brings news of sandwich flavourings only dreamt of by lonely souls wandering the edges of Archway, Matalan superstores, outlets for inexpensive and badly glazed flower pots, 1930s underground stations, victorian hotels with neon lighting hardly any younger, stucco'd pieces of house, John Lewis subsidiaries, parts of the DLR were unused track is passedand left un-noticed (except by me), churches with unfeasibly short spires, bits of the Thames where the water is never ever "choppy", steps that only go down, bridal paths with no vicars, brambles with no berries, buses with conductors, orchestras with bus drivers, hedgerows, some (but not all) suburbs of Medellin Colombia,and badly constructed sheds.

Previous Blog

2005-12-10T09:43:00.000Z

In true Laurence Stern-ian stylee, I gave the previous missive entirely over to Gal, the puplette (though not an American stringed instrument craftsperson). She favoured the space bar and a few choice keys as opposed to a more Cecil Taylor approach to keyboard skills. Measured and minimalist I'd say.

Gal's blog

2005-12-10T09:32:00.000Z

j hm mm z \ x x c h , n hbn tmbg nbjhb ndsd cx

All hope is lost

2005-12-09T11:20:00.000Z

Shahid has not been bringing any sandwiches in this week! My whole blog-purpose is lying on the kitchen worktop like a limp melted piece of iceberg lettuce. Yesterday he did have a panini (serrano ham in it) at the RSA as we were having a business meeting outside of the museum. Today he says he is having another business lunch and I hope to report back what he had to ear. His son Aadam has proffered this thought which I hope is some kind of sopp to our disappointment.

WHat kind of witches are there in the desert? Sandwiches

Shahid's sandwiches.

2005-12-06T13:54:00.000Z

Shahid has not brought any to work today. But he does inform me that he had fish and chips last night.

Frightening Christmas

2005-12-06T13:40:00.000Z

I went into Harrods yesterday to look for some perfume for the missus. I thought I might have a look at the Toy Department as planning for those "Oh My God, haven't got anythign for the kids" Christmas Eve moment. It was horrifying - the sheer excess. I can see why parents feel bullied into buying more and more for their kids. Putting a child in that environment is akin to pumping them full of Coca Cola and giving them a credit card with no limit.

On Saturday, me and Thom went to a school Christmas Fayre. Trolling round the second hand stalls, we managed to find some great bargains - Toy Story for 50p and a brilliant Thomas the Tank engine poster for 10p. I saw a table stacked with Thomas toys and I expertly steered Thom away. The terror of a screaming demanding child in the midst of a packed hall, is not something I can bear for long. We fled outside.

more wisdom...

2005-12-05T11:20:00.000Z

Thom, the nearly 4 year old, has pronounced that Cornflakes are snowflakes that are made of corn

some small steps..

2005-12-05T11:09:00.000Z

Gal - the puplette - took her first steps this weekend to her great delight. She enjoys an audience, so only performs when there are at least 3 people watching/supporting and then demands applause. Her cousin Tilly (though apparently she pre-named Anaglypta) is a month older and has recently started to walk as well. My step mother has suggested baby races in their hallway as part of the Christmas entertainments. I haven't seen the TV schedule yet, so I couldn't possibly comment

2005-12-04T22:09:00.000Z

... inspired by catster and the Laydee Brockwell, I share this view over Lewisham this week at about 7.05am. This is what we see from the kitchen window, should anyone be up at that time. The large triangle of dark on the right is the council flats and the smaller rectangle on the left is the monstrosity that is Lewisham's Citibank building. Imagine Centrepoint, without the charm or stature, standing midst a lowrise shopping centre of Arndale horror. Whilst Brockley can boast Spike Milligan and one of the four grooms in Four Wedding and a Funeral, Lewisham claims (in)famy) for the Jimmy White Snooker Centre, just above the Early Learning Centre on the High Street.

2005-12-02T16:59:00.000Z

David Byrne's has a nice site and a lovely blog.

lunch with Dad

2005-12-02T16:47:00.000Z

it happened, it was fine. no bad news was imparted.

Dad has had a hearing aid for about 2 years now, without letting on to anyone - not that you would probably, not something you'd shout about really, unless of course the hearing aid wasn't working. Its a strange to see someone close to you whom you have known to be healthy and fit start to show concrete signs of deterioration. They are no longer perfect, they are no longer going to be there as you like them for the rest of time. Things change and its a bit scary.

I spent alot of time speaking up, not knowing whether to or not, whether he could hear me properly or not, whether he cared to listen or not. I asked him about it and he said he couldn't remember if he was wearing it or not (he wasn't it tourned out). And as he hasn't had it adjusted by the doctor since he got it, he thought he ought to get it done. It might help. Having siad which he is very happy as he has gone against all the reports from the BBC and got his freeview box to pick up channels down in Budleigh. He will be able to view Channel 5 for the first time since its launch.

Hasn't missed much.

We parted subverting one of those dad/son non-contact hugs, into a wave that was actually supposed to be an affectionate squeezing of hands. Quite touching really...

Shahid's sandwiches

2005-12-02T16:37:00.000Z

Shahid wasn't in work today, so we don't know the flavour of his sandwiches. We don't even know if he had sandwiches or decided, for health reason, to skip lunch altogether. There are, of course, limitless parrallel universes (such as imagined by David Deutsch and explored by Ken Campbell) where Shahid is actually eating every known and unknown type of food stuff and non food stuff. Therefore it could be said that this blog, in itself, is somewhat meaningless when set against the countless other similar (but not quite the same) blogs that are appearing in limitless universes.

2005-12-01T11:10:00.000Z

This is a great link courtesy of a number of fine friends and bloggers. The map above shows the places I would like to visit. Purplemafling suggests that we all paint the world, as well as the town, red. I agree that its a small world, but I wouldn't like to paint it.

Create your own map

Shahid's sandwiches

2005-12-01T10:23:00.000Z

Today, Shahid is eating cheese and rocket in his sandwich. He also brought in a hard boiled egg.

nearly 4

2005-11-30T23:16:00.000Z

Apparently, a milkshake is a shake that has milk in it. Also if you mix lunch and supper you get slunch. This is the wisdom of Thom.

Here endeth the lesson

Shahid's sandwiches

2005-11-30T12:15:00.000Z

A new series starts here today. My colleague, Shahid, says that whilst at college his sandwiches were so tasty that he sold them to other students.

Today he is eating a cheese and bombay potato.

More tomorrow

triggers...

2005-11-30T09:19:00.000Z

... Going to have lunch with my Dad today. There is always part of me that expects some bad news. I discussed this with the boss earlier. The words "James, can I have a word with you" and similar versions have the ability to strike a chill in my heart. She, the boss, had said these words because she just wanted to talk about the arrangements for my Masters next year. I had to explain that my initial reaction is always fear. Its the fear of being found out and told off for something I don't know I have done. This could be hang over from my younger life when there were a few misdemeanors - a healthy teenage interest in top shelf literature, burning down a few nearby farms, overthrowing some minor South American democracies, the usual stuff - which have now been either forgiven or forgotten (Clement Freud, the gourmand, former MP and quiz show panelist says that he never forgives but because he is getting old he does forget). But somewhere deep deep inside there is the apprehension that someone will find out something I did 30 years ago, wave it under my nose (metaphorically of course - I'm not sure you could literally wave the blighted lives of a few million south americans under a nose. Maybe you could do it one by one using a large crane with a net or a very large pair of (cushioned) barbecue tongs. But the queue for a few million people would be very very long and you'd need to bring in catering and possibly shelter (depending which time of year, of course). The transport arrangements would be very complicated as they would, probably, have to come across the Atlantic. For such a large number the use of a pre-fabricated travelator would really be perfect. i had hoped that when they built the new millenial footbridges across the Thames they would have added travelators - a really fun way to travel (natch) and very helpful for doing panoramic video shots of the London or railway lines (depending on what your own personal interest is. Thom, the bright nearly 4 old, is, as previously mentioned, obsessed with trains. So for his birthday on the 27th December, we'll probably just get on a train and see where it takes us. As we will be down at my Dad's (in Budleigh) we'll have the full play of South West trains.)))))

.. so anyway, lunch with Dad and whenever we see each other outside of seasonal visits, I fear news of bad import.

Glenda's shopping basket

2005-11-28T12:39:00.000Z

Not much in there other than 4 bottles of white wine. Two of which, I think, were Oxford Landing and dry. She was probably having the Chancellor over for a late tea

Glenda Jackson

2005-11-28T12:18:00.000Z

I was pushing a trolley round Tescos looking for green lentils (which make much better mujadara, since you asked) with two kids squashed into the kiddie seats and Thom says "We need Goats milk." The Goats milk is a left over from Thom's excema and colic - apparently goats don't get either and cows do, so stay away from the cows (lest we forget that they had cowpox before we got small pox, let alone chicken pox, or even monkey pox). I'm not a milk drinker in tea or coffee so could not tell you whether it does have a slightly goatee taste or not when heated.

So anyway, Thom (who you'll remember is "nearly 4") says "There it is" displaying either remarkably developed literacy skills or a good memory for a brand image! We wheel over to the cold shelf and find the way blocked by a woman in a dark brown twin piece with a rather scraggy looking neck. I waited quietly exuding a "don't you realize you are in the way and I've got two small children who whilst being delightful and very attractive do encumber (today's zeitgeist) me greatly and you should give me priority" vibe. Eventually she moved off to the next shelf (the organic stuff) and turned around. It was our Glenda, resident of Blackheath and by this account regular shopper at Tescos Lewisham. I said to her. "excuse me. I think you're fab" and she said "Thank you very much".

The Sound of Silence

2005-11-28T11:51:00.000Z

Since my lack of bloggin' in the last few weeks, I am reminded of a small Columbian woman, half hidden by a guitar, sitting on my one time lawn singing Simon and Garfunkel songs round an improvised bonfire the day after Tony Blair came to power. House warmings don't come much warmer. Which reminds that we are trying to agree on the style of front door we want as the one we inherited when we moved to leafy Hilly Fields (or should that be hilly leafy fields - both re accurate) is a bit warped and not exactly the best for insulation and heat retention. The work we did getting a new boiler put in by the estimable Mr Chong is evaporating before our eyes (that is if we happened to infra red thermoscopic ones like in the film Predator). Colliding in a meaningful way with one's partner is a skill hard learnt. Collisions of course happen on a regular basis - the 3am "Your turn", the 8am "I'm going to work, I suggest you look after the kids", the 7pm "you bath, I read". But to find time when both parties are a) awake, b) unencumbered by kids, c) unencumbered by wanting desperately to be in bed and get some sleep before the kids are awake, d) unenhanced by red wine, is tricky.

... and I saw Glenda Jackson in Tescos on Saturday.

news from the undead

2005-11-16T13:00:00.000Z

... have had comments from a shark and a laydee asking as to why no blog. Brain deadness is not condusive to writing anything half way interesting. So apologies, yet again, for the lack of news. General fatigue but, more importantly, lack of brain time and good REM sleep are to blame.

sleep deprivation

2005-11-01T18:28:00.000Z

... apologies for the lack of blog (especially after my kindly rant at the catster and the laydee). The lack of sleep has caught up on me big time. Its not just a lack of hours (5 or 6 on average, instead of a healthy 7 or 8), but the broken nature. Imagine an early night, say 11pm, a bit of reading with the headphones on listening to Late Junction on Radio 3 and off to slumber by 11.15. 12am Gal wakes for a feed, 1am Madame comes to bed, 3am Thom "has the feeling of a wee wee", 4am Gal needs a feed. You get the picture. And there are no lie ins at the weekend - this is not a concept that has penetrated the mind of either the 3-nearly-4-year-old. And forget "Daylight Saving Time" - a bizarre concept that is only helpful to Scottish farmers - this is temporal virtuality that is beyond 48 months of being.

Apparently for every hours you lose from your regular sleep pattern you lose 5 points on your IQ until you make up the hour again. It accumulates as well so, on the basis that I have an average IQ of 100, I am currently in minus figures. This means that I am technically brain dead.

or most likely...

2005-10-24T08:17:00.000Z

...

Or...

2005-10-24T08:07:00.000Z

...?

Mrs N...

2005-10-24T08:05:00.000Z

... or her?

Mrs N...

2005-10-23T23:25:00.000Z

... perhaps?

And so not to bed

2005-10-23T20:37:00.000Z

The difficulty of conducting this blogging whilst in possession and being possessed by a near one year old who is growing into her teens with alarming alacrity despite the lack of years is taking its toll. An evening which should allow the pleasures of ironing shirts whilst watching Match of the Day 2, having shared a bottle of wine with a friend and fellow child sufferer, and finding time to put in an hour's chanting not withstanding the reading of a summary of Philip J Streatfield's The Paradox of Control in Organisations has gone somewhat out the window as the Galster has only just deigned to bed down for the night.

The missus is out at the The Sitcom Trials in town and I am fending for myself.

Got a short but slightly facetious comment from the Jazzshark. So to round things up ...
... the boss didn't get the job. She's over it already. What they wanted was a puppy to do their bidding whilst the boss is not the small canine sort. I am disappointed as it would have given me a better chance of promotion and, if I am honest and in contrast to my buddhist principles, we would have been in a better position to do unto the others as they have been doing unto us and other staff for a while now. Revenge is not a healthy desire, and you need to be pretty sure of yourself that what you call justice is not just revenge done up in a cape and silly wig.

On the horizon though is a Masters degree. I am hoping to start one in Organisational Consultancy (don't yawn) at Ashridge Business School in the new year. The boss suggested it and is supporting me to get on with it. Plenty of reading to do and so I am trying to create the habit of some reading every evening (except Tuesdays for pub quiz, natch). I start off with a bit of buddhist stuff to put me in the mood (!?) and then crack into social construction theory = one of those deep theories that underlies everything so when you do a search on google you get "the social construction of lesbianism", the s.c. of technology" " the evolutionary naturalistic epistemology of Donald T. Campbell". I haven't been reading as much as I would have liked because of the Galster and also the glass of whiskey that quickly impairs my cognitive faculties.

Anyway I'm wondering a number of things at the moment.
1. when are catster and codename lizzy likely to update their blogs.? After the Jazzshark's comment I am keeping tabs.
2. what does Mrs N - see also Jazzshark - look like?

Waiting over...

2005-10-19T20:16:00.000Z

... she didn't get it. More anon

waiting update...

2005-10-19T09:15:00.000Z

... still waiting.

waiting update

2005-10-18T11:35:00.000Z

... still waiting

London waiting

2005-10-17T19:49:00.000Z

What to whilst others make up their minds, how to kill time whilst others try (or don't) to fall asleep. When I managed orchestras I would always go to the head of the road and gaze longingly as if the mere act would speed the tardy musician to his/her session. If you did this often enough they always arrived except in one case where they had run off to become a chartered surveyor. I do know of someone who has run away to play checkers - he never mentioned it to anyone. The boss had their interview today - managed to arrive 5 minutes late as their mobile phone had a clock that was slow. This gave us all a bit of a fright and I had a wander round to look for them (note the royal we to disguise his identity) and then went to chant. I chanted and prayed for about 40 minutes. If he/she/they gets the job will it have been on account of my chanting (http://www.sgi.org)? Not directly, the main cause for the success will have the boss themselves. But the chanting will have helped, I believe, to make the right causes for the success to take effect. How can I prove this? Tricky, and it is something I have to struggle with each day as I chant. Does this actually do any good? I've certainly seen some changes in friends and fellows Buddhists, I've heard the most remarkable stories of they have managed to gain jobs, kidney transplants, happiness through chanting. And if I don't have these great changes, is it because it doesn't work or because I didn't chant enough?

OK, let me share a secret. I have a target for my chanting - I want to be the Head of Training at my august organisation by the end of the year with a nearly 50% payrise. Its quite a target. It would mean a big boost to esteem, influence, and the ability to break even at the end of the month.

I received a piece of guidance from another Buddhist. He told me of the Buddhist principle of kyo chi gyo i. Kyo is the objective we wish to achieve, chi is the wisdom we chant for in order to achieve it, gyo is the action we then take and i is the position or status we achieve as a result. Its sort of like a mystic performance management system. Where we arrive and what we achieve (i) is dependent upon our actions, and we chant to ensure that we take action based upon wisdom, wisdom that is rooted in our buddhist faith and practice - respect for life and the value of life, respecting all people as buddhas, working for peace throughout the world and the happiness of all humanity.

My objective to be Head of Training is, with the help of my chanting, leading me to raise my game in order to be worth the position. In that sense, getting the job itself is irrelevant, as the achievement will be to reach that level. The causes I'll have made along the way will lead me to this job or if not something better for my life and for the value I can bring.

... but for now, the kids are snoring. A delightful sound. I have a house to keep and some brakes to change on my bike.

D Day

2005-10-17T08:42:00.000Z

And So Sunday passed in its now normal manner, aside from the dash to Liverpool Street with Sis in law trying to catch her flight back to Israel and the kid-strewn birthday party of a lovely art dealing friend in one of those new developments in Deptford = cf www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/archers/ as I believe Lilian Bellamy's nefarious son James had invested money in one of the blocks overlooking their place = morning at Synagogue where the missus teaches Hebrew to the kids, then Dulwich Park for more 2-3 wheel adventures for Thom as he prepares for manhood and a 4th birthday and Gal develops her stunt baby credential by going head first down slides whilst her mother screams.

But now 'tis Monday... And the boss is being interviewed today for the big job. Fingers are crossed across the world.

Keep yours crossed too...

... More anon.

Sodding Saturdays...

2005-10-15T18:19:00.000Z

... a pig of a day.

I finished the last blog at about 10.30am and had done so much already that I foolishly felt some kind of pride. Oh, how it comes before a fall!

A day of waiting whilst others decide what to do - didn't Lenin say something like life is what happens when you are making plans or maybe it was Burn the kulaks! - and then not much of it happens because it is usually too late.

Did manage to sit in the car on a red route (a London aberration that hinders traffic, gives ideas above their bus station to omnibus drivers and takes business away from traders on the high street) for an hour with my dozing daughter whilst the missus haggled over a broken chair leg with a trader in what John Lewis calls maharani furniture.

The rest of the day was traffic jams and check out queues whilst I chauffered and shopped.

I ache in places that I knew that I had because I ached in them the last time I was this ****ing tired. The washing is still to be done, the bed time circus is calling me to Roll Up when all I want to do is Curl Up with some music or chat on the radio to lull me to oblivion.

Train track

2005-10-15T10:22:00.000Z

My boss is experiencing most unpleasant behaviors at work - being evicted from her office on 3 occasions. She is also up for the job of running the HR for our mighty non governmental public body. Not surprisingly she is having a mixed time of it at present.

I shared this the thoughtful Mr Thom who immediately asked me to construct the following SMS for Special Auntie Ron (as she is sometimes known).."I have lots of train track in my room and she can have some if she wants).

The evidence is above.

There have been a couple of downpours recently that put one in mind of monsoon seasons past or even NYC at present (see the ever bloggable http://jazzshark.blogspot.com). Water has been coming down the chimney so had to climb up and check the capping. Building advisors longtime-Chong(disconnected) advised a Chinese cap. Apparently this allows ventilation but not much fluid and keeps ones vents aerated. Not for the Dutch then? Thom the Builder manfully footed the rusty ladder as I climbed up on the roof, remembering Longton's advice "Don't forget Rod Hull". Realising I had left my XXXL glove puppet behind I retreated decided to explain to a worried wife and sister in law (whose presence is still evident) that nothing was wrong with water coming down the chimney. We were effectively capped and the minor water fall was no more than proof of the ventilationally appropriate building design.

Now to breakfast and a Saturday of tricycles ...

comments please - sharks included.

2005-10-14T21:23:00.000Z

... the cat has buggered off

2005-10-14T20:06:00.000Z

... back again. a liberal helping of formula milk and Gal is asleep. I am hoping that a long time epistolary chum from Tyneside by way of Medellin in Columbia will join the blogosphere. It would be illuminating to compare M&M wielding 10 year olds in Lewisham's greener valleys (by the DLR) with the gun toting drugs cartel of South and Meso America. Wife and sis in law are making potato soup - such is the richness of Hilly FIelds culture - for we are approaching another jewish holiday that almost certainly has a relation to, if not a sole reason for being in, eating food.

The weekend starts here...
... a two up, two down in SE London, with a cat on the shed.

jet engines

2005-10-14T19:50:00.000Z

how do you explain the jet engine to a nearly 4 year old? its difficult enough trying to explain why coal is useful to a steam engine, and why Dr Beechings destroyed so much of our legacy though the current thinking is that he probably saved the railways from complete banruptcy. I remember the tram station outside the Harris Bacon factory in Totnes from nearly 40 years ago - it has the corrollaric thrill that the Science Museum's marine section gives me in terms of strange deep water phobia....

,,, Gal is crying... give me a mo

Clifford's idea...

2005-10-14T08:14:00.000Z

.. for today is Respect.

Pingu put on a circus performance with the seal and his sister Pinga. They all got covered in blue paint.

Clifford's message

2005-10-13T09:14:00.000Z

Spent the early evening hours wiping surfaces and doing the dishes. Getting a bit house proud - along with a fear of deep water, == http://www.phobia-fear-release.com/phobia-of-deep-water.html (though if you check down the page you'll find that people have "an irrabbitional fear" - is this something to do with the new Wallace and Gromit film? While we're on this stream my common-law step brother-in-law (you do the math) was art director on Chicken Run. I don't know if he worked on th Were-Rabbit. Tragedy about the fire in Bristol but interesting to note that at the last big cinema release there were news reports that Wallace and Gromit had gone missing in a New York yellow cab - is there a link? A particularly active PR person? === I have a horror of mucky hands. Not good when you have pre-school kids. Knackered from the industiral cleaning I had to do... mother and the sister in law must have an irrabbitonal fear of jey cloths. Went up to read to Thom and we both fell asleep. Woke at 1am, brushed teeth and went back to sleep till 6. Thom has been waking up about 7.15. Just in time for Pingu and Clifford the Big Red Dog while I sit and chant.
Clifford's message today is "take responsibility". Pingu was pretending to be ill. A one-one draw on the child brain washing front, methinks

pub quiz

2005-10-12T14:13:00.000Z

Last night was the pub quiz. Jolly Jelly Fish came second, a point behind arch rivals Feeding the Ducks. ...surely Ralph Richardson played the Duke of Clarence in Olivier's film of Richard III?

current listening

2005-10-12T12:19:00.000Z

1. Anything that jazzshark suggests
2. Chavez Ravine
3. The Meters
4. and more frequently, BBC Radio 2?!

mea culpa

2005-10-12T12:04:00.000Z

I've been told off by a pedalling New Yorker to blog more. I feel I have to squeeze another aspect in to a life which if not busy is at least full of stuff. Also my doodlings and musings often tend towards the grumpiness that family life and work woes draw out of one. There are issues (how NYC!) at both - nothing earth shattering and why you, dear reader, should be interested in the slightest, I know not. A deep looming fear - sort of like the blue sea bit under a model boat in a glass case (more anon about my unnatural terror at the Victoria Deep Water Station) - is that all those who I love dearly yet kvetch (http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2002/06/01.html) about and those who I am not so keen on and would dearly love to see brought down a humane peg or two will, in some strange, yet possibly karmic, occurrence log in and read this. A light bulb would metaphorically switch on inside their head and my life would be spent trying to avoid them. Difficult if you are married to them.

What's the half-life of a blog? Will my kids be able to read it in 10 years time? Thom, number one pup at 3 and 3/4, finds his way round the internet like it was pre-programmed at the amniocentisis and has taught himself the hewbrew alphabet from an Israeli website. Number two pup, Gal, almost 1, seems to be developing the art of conducting.

2005-09-29T05:04:00.000Z

still up. Gave up on the idea of sleep and took the wooflette downstairs were she could wreck everything. 4.30 and two hours of calming had done nothing to get anyone, let alone the whole family, back to sleep. Started chanting (Nam myoho renge kyo - http://www.sgi-uk.org.uk) and within an hour little madame was yawning. The power of buddhism - if you can't convert them, bore them!

Its now 6am and London is waking up to one of its beautiful clear mornings as the sun stays on for a little longer in the UK. Who says global warming is all bad.

2005-09-29T04:52:00.000Z

Its a wonder that museums don't use babies as part of their security systems. The tiniest change in the environment - sound, heat, touch, smell - and they are screaming. The littlest puppy, Galbobwooflette, is teething. The high cheek bones, slight chubbiness and minimal teeth make her look a bit like a toy troll, her being bit on the mad side as well. 2.30am we
have an awakening and despite the meaured and calm entreaties of yours truly to "let her calm herself down" the mother is insistent that we pick her up. Pick her up, calm her, put her down, back to bed... scream. Repeat until brain dead. Number one puppy, Thombobwoof, joins in the fun as he now can't sleep with all the noise.

Its a perfect burglar alarm. Cots in every gallery, monitored by cctv, specially trained midwife/security guards - large crewcut men with walkie talkies and baby monitors. Burglars would have to enlist lactating mothers as the alarm calmers. I'm sure it would help with post natal depression as well as bringing in some useful cash.

2005-09-23T11:26:00.000Z

It seems to be virtually the only place to be. Everyone else is doing it - mainly in black, it seems unless your are the catster http://catster.blogspot.com/ who has taken the whole flat sitting aspect of her domicile to heart and turned into a purple cat if not a purple sharkhttp://jazzshark.blogspot.com/.