30.04.2002 - Let's be frank...
I was reminded today of a gaff made by a TV magazine programme presenter called Frank Bough. He used to present an early evening programme called Nationwide back in the late seventies / early eighties. After a cookery demonstration by Fanny Craddock and Johnny, her helper and husband, where they showed us how to make doughnuts the camera cut back to Frank for the link to the next item. After thanking the couple he cheerily proclaimed "...and I hope that all your doughnuts turn out like Fanny's..."
It's made me snigger to myself all day.
~link~
29.04.2002 - Fiddling about...
It was such a cold, wet and windy day here yesterday. I'd been lulled into a false hope that summer was only around the corner by the wonderful weather we've had recently. I so much wanted to go out on my bike but cycling ain't much fun in horizontal rain. Instead, I stayed in and tinkered with my website. I journeyed up so many css and dhtml blind alleys in trying to make small improvements here and there. About the only thing that actually worked after an enormous effort was the slide show of photographs I've added from the time when I was an actor.
Anyway... I'll let you be the judge of whether my labours were in vain.
~link~
28.04.2002 - Mind your language...
When you live with someone whose native tongue is different to your own you are reminded on a daily basis of the differences not only between the two languages involved but also between the two cultures. The bf is Danish and whilst the Danish language and culture have a lot of similarities to the English language and culture they also differ, as you might expect, in a many ways. Not long after we met I remember saying, "Watch yourself" whilst trying to squeeze past him with a bowl of hot water (don't ask!). This he found quite rude, where as in Britain (certainly in Wales) it should be translated as, "Excuse me." Equally, the Danes don't seem to apologise unless they've definitely done something wrong; inadvertently blocking someone's path would not warrant an apology. Here in the UK we seem to apologise for everything - our very existence and the space we occupy in this life must be regularly apologised for! The Danes seem quite direct in their language; they ask for what they want where as the Brits seem to talk in a code that never addresses issues directly but skirts around them. It's a code that anyone from these isles would understand instantly. Ask a Dane if he wants a drink and you'll either get a "Yes" or a "No." Ask a Brit the same question and you'll get something like, "If you're buying, I wouldn't mind - thank you." or "I've got quite a lot of work on but thank you all the same." We know they mean yes and no so why can't we say that? I suppose it's the reason we excel in diplomacy - never quite saying what we mean.
The Welsh language is something else again and many foreigners (especially the English) find it quite a harsh language with its myriad of guttural sounds. I think it's quite a charming language. A shining example of this is a Welsh slangword I heard for microwave: popty bing - popty meaning oven and bing being the sound it makes when your meal is ready!
~link~
27.04.2002 - And then, all our clothes fell off...
A group of middle-aged and elderly swimmers using a public pool in South Wales were alarmed to find that their swimming costumes started to fall apart whilst taking their dip. The swimmers claim that chemicals in the pool were so strong that their costumes just fell apart. I don't suppose it's so funny when you think what those chemicals could do to your skin when they can turn your trunks to soup. However, if you try and picture the scene, then you can't help but smile. So if you're stumped as to how to remove that wine stain on your favorite blouse or get those stubborn stains out of your kids clothing; take them along to Bridgend Recreation Centre - the only municipal baths that offers a free laundry service.
Washes whiter than white - guaranteed or your money back.
~link~
26.04.2002 - Dear Kitty...
I'm so worried about the swing to the right in the recent French Presidential elections. All of Europe should be wary when an important world nation such as France exhibits a taste for such extreme politics. Is Europe tiring of its socialist politics and developing a taste for a right wing agenda? Surely, we all need to stand up and be counted if we have any chance of stemming this fascist resurgence.
"Alarmed" - Swansea.
Dear "Alarmed",
Relax; you shouldn't worry about any right wing political movements in France. They're basically a weak nation and not to be trusted, not like us Brits. Mr Pen's policies are all well and fine and make some sense but they don't go far enough; he's too soft. He doesn't compare with some of our political masters of times past - Lord Tebbit and Baroness Thatcher could easily kick the living shite out of him. For Christ's sake, his middle name is Marie; what sort of name for a man is that? No, bring back Thatcher, I say - she had balls. What we need in this country is a strong leader again; a leader with discipline. Someone we can all be proud of who's going to put Britain and her Empire back on the map where she rightly belongs. Come on, isn't it about time we returned to good, old fashioned family values and the sanctity of marriage; I say block the Channel Tunnel and sort out the Reds and the Wets and the bloody Pinkos once and for all. Bastards, all of them.
Sympathetically yours - Kitty.
Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, Britain never, never, never shall be slaves... la, la-la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la...
~link~
25.04.2002 - It's such a perfect day...
Lou Reed was right. I finished work early yesterday and went to collect my new bike. I spent the entire afternoon cycling around Cardiff. I'd forgotten what a liberating feeling cycling produces. And once I'd remembered that it's best to take up as much space on the road as possible so that cars don't drive you into the gutter, I had a wonderful time.
With aching legs I returned home and started working on my blog; changing it so that it is more reliant on CSS. Over the last few days I've hit numerous stumbling blocks but finally something clicked and it all fell into place. I know that there's more work to do on it but I'm happy enough to upload it. That's what you're looking at now - no frames and no tables, just CSS. Let me know if you come across any glitches, bugs or mistakes.
...Or just tell me what you think; I'd be happy to take advice from those more skilled in this than me (I suppose that means anyone and everyone).
~link~
22.04.2002 - Snap...
Darryl reports that his head hurts. So does mine... from trying to get to grips with redesigning my site without frames and tables.
...no post...
~link~
21.04.2002 - 2 wheels good, 4 wheels bad...
Yesterday I bought my new bike. It's a Marin San Anselmo... No, that wouldn't have meant anything to me a few days ago either but the bf recommended Marin as a good brand and after a bit of investigation on various bicycle websites, Bob's your uncle (Fanny's your aunt), I decided to go for the San Anselmo. It's being delivered this Wednesday and I can't wait. Cardiff isn't really a cycling city. The local authorities have provided cycle paths here and there and a bike trail but you don't really see that many bikes on the road. Compared to Denmark, where you sometimes feel like it's the main form of transport, Britain isn't really geared up for it. We don't have a cycling culture: there isn't the infrastructure or mindset and the laws favour the motorist. The car is king. We're a motor loving nation; lovingly choking each other to death on exhaust fumes - ashes to ashes, dust to dust and bumper to bumper. My last bike was stolen and I didn't replace it. I've missed it, especially when the weather has been good - lots of open countryside and beaches within easy reach.
Here comes summer...
~link~
20.04.2002 - Savage world...
Paul O'Grady (a.k.a. Lily Savage) has suffered a heart attack and undergone surgery, it was reported last night. Doctors are still concerned about his condition the report said. Lily has entertained millions through her TV appearances (Blankety Blank) over recent years and is one of the few acts to transfer from the gay pub circuit to mainstream television with minimal compromising of the character and of the material. I remember regularly seeing Lily back in '86 at the Prince of Wales (I think it was called) in Brixton and at a bar round the back of King's Cross Station. Lily used to host a regular amateur talent contest which was hilarious; sat there with her pint and chain smoking her ciggies, slagging the various acts off. Most "gay" acts, in making the transition to television, have been forced to change their act to such a degree that they lose their original humour and charm. Paul O'Grady managed to steer Lily through, what must be, a minefield and present a somewhat cleaned up version of his act yet still remaining very funny.
All the best to him. I wish him a speedy and complete recovery.
~link~
19.04.2002 - Living with God...
Erik Peeters, so his blog proclaims, lives with God. Each to his own, I suppose, but I don't think I'd like to share my domestic arrangements with The Almighty. Does he do his share of the housework? Is the phone always engaged with calls from numerous religeous leaders. Is the bath clogged with white beard trimmings? Does he talk in a low and booming voice when you're trying to watch the telly? No, I don't think I could put up with it: always judging people and proclaiming from on high. I'd rather live with someone on equal terms and you're never gonna get that sharing a small flat with someone who's omnipotent, are you? Sooner or later you'll start to feel inferior and then you'll end up resenting him. It's asking for trouble.
Perhaps Erik Peeters is dyslexic and actually meant "Living with Dog." Now that's a different story...
~link~
18.04.2002 - Health costs...
And so the media are in a frenzy about Britain's first direct tax increases since the Seventies. There are already cries about today's budget being a tax and spend budget and a budget on jobs. The penny that the Chancellor, Gordon Brown, is proposing to add to National Insurance will mean that the UK will be spending 9.4% of its domestic economic output on health; the highest in Europe. It will amount to a hike in health spending from £65.4bn this year to £105.6bn in 2007/08. Surely this badly needed shot in the arm for the health service is something to be proud of and long overdue. All this for an extra £3.70 per week on average earnings - what price health?
On a more personal note... tonight I electrocuted myself and plan to do it again before I go to bed! Fast approching 40 and feeling rather sluggish after the winter and lacking tone and definition after 3 years in job which demands I spend 8 hours a day sat on my butt, today I bought an electrical toner. I tried it when I got home from work and it's such a wierd feeling - my leg muscles contracting, seemingly, of their own volition. Is this cheating? Well, I'm not a gym queen; I joined a local gym a year or two ago and never set foot in the place after the initial guided tour. At least I'll use this, even if it is whilst sat in front of the telly watching Coronation Street. And with the the added benefits of cycling (I like cycling and I'm buying a new bike in the next couple of weeks) I might hit the dreaded 40 feeling good about myself.
Do you think they make electric toners to firm the mind?
~link~
17.04.2002 - It's not the winning but the taking part...
Yeah...? Well, that's what they say. Yesterday my blog was selected for inclusion in BluWay.com's top 10 most interesting sites. Wow! BluWay (for those not in the know) are "the internet's largest lesbian and gay travel portal" - whatever that means. I think they should get out a bit more. The inclusion of my blog in their Top 10 and the subsequent mail I received from the editors are probably part of some automated and random selection process designed to flatter the recipient into using their services... or perhaps I'm just an old cynic. I'm probably doing them a huge disservice. Whatever... And to prove my place in the roll of honour of "the internet's largest lesbian and gay travel portal" I also get a star to proudly display on my site:
~link~
15.04.2002 - Southern Jutland living...
Back in the UK and already missing Denmark. This last week has flown by. If only work passed so quickly. I can't say that we did anything except relax - long lie-ins, a good book (London by Peter Ackroyd) and good food. There were two high points of the week. The first was a visit to Frøslev; a Nazi holding camp for Danes during WWII. From here they were sent to the Nazi concentration camps in Germany. It was very moving to read of the lives they led there, not knowing if they would be on the next train south. The other high point was a visit to Koldinghus where there was an exhibition of the work of English and Danish silversmiths; very intricate and beautiful work on display and well worth seeing if just to see Koldinghus itself. When I get time I'll post some of the photos we took.
In my post holiday gloom one thing has raised a smile - take a look at Bingobowden's page on extracts from the Queen Mother's Book of Condolence. Whether they are real or not... who cares...
~link~
08.04.2002 - Second leg...
Yesterday we got the train south to the bf's parent's house in Tønder. This week will be a quieter, more relaxing time. Tønder is a picturesque town in Southern Jutland, 3 miles from the German border. Over the years this border has changed position numerous times and so the town has both a German and Danish history. It used to be an important market town and port dating back to the Middle Ages. The sea has long since receded, leaving it high and dry but it is still a magnet for shoppers and the hoards of German tourists who regularly invade in their fleets of air-conditioned coaches; fists full of crisp, new Euros to spend on Danish trinkets and nick-nacks.
For now I'll leave it at that to battle with the German tourists on my way to the bank.
~link~
07.04.2002 - Copenhagen living...
Well, the first leg of our holiday is over. Copenhagen truly is a wonderful place. The whole city is cafe mad. Every street is graced with a cafe bar of some description: Cafe Sommersko, Krasnapolsky, Kafe Kys to name but a few. And the excellent weather encouraged Copenhageners into an al fresco cafe frenzy. You couldn't move for the Danish glitterati sipping their cafe lattes and glugging their Carlsbergs in the warm Easter sunshine. When we weren't (dis)gracing one of the cafe bars we were to be found at the Danish Design Centre or strolling around one of the city's many churches or monuments. Lots to do and see in an all too short week.
Yesterday we spent at Agnete's, another jewellery designer who works and lives on a beautiful farm, 40 minutes drive from the city. The Danish countyside radiates a goodness and wholesomeness in this spring air that justifies any claim to it being God's own land. Agnete's house dates back to the 18th Century and must be the very definition of what the Danes mean by hygge. Lots of homegrown and homemade food - a lip smacking leek and potato soup and a heaven sent rhubarb tart to die for.
From Thursday night's revelries after the exhibition opening we were invited to dinner on Friday evening. Claus (a goldsmith) and Inge (a doctor and authority on cancer) own a beautiful apartment right in the heart of the city - a stone's throw from the tourist packed, must see Nyhavn. Good food, wine, conversation and a hippopotomas skull!
Drank, smoked and laughed lots.
~link~
04.04.2002 - Exhibitionists...
We've been in Copenhagen now for just a few days and I've spent a fortune. Copenhagen is the most expensive European Capital next to London - my abiding memory thus far is of visiting cashpoint machines. The bf's parents opened their exhibition at Kunstindustrimuseet yesterday. The evening was attended by other notable Danish jewellery designers and lubricated by numerous bottles of wine. This was then followed by a meal at a nearby restaurant which we took over for the rest of the night - more wine and beer saw us entertained into the early hours.
I eventually fell asleep at a nearby bar we'd retired to. Embarrassing..!
~link~