Birthday weekend is nearly over; Friday saw John and Kev here and Chinese food eaten, whisky drunk, and Roger Waters' 'In the Flesh' DVD watched. Bed at 2 am or something like it. Saturday morning, down by the river for coffee. Saturday night, a sanity break - and Sunday morning, up at 7.30 to be out on the bike along the river to Hampton Court and then back on the East Molesey (i.e. this) side of the river. Very few people around.
Today, a different bunch of friends turn up and I cook lunch, then after seeing Susan back to the station drop in at the Wetherspoons, but decide not to bother after waiting interminably to be served.

There's also been some writing albeit interrupted by much online research re Spanish anarchism which led to looking up the old Moviment D'Esquerra Nacional (now apparently part of the Catalan Green movement) and finding a Wikipedia article in what I thought was Portuguese but turned out to be Galician (it's very similar).

Tomorrow I have an Occupational Health assessment. What will happen after that remains to be seen.

Fearing the worst - that anarchists had indeed arrived - I found a small crowd, or a crowd of small people, clustered around a pair of tiny men, who, stripped to the waist, and their hands bound with cloth, were skipping around and occasionally punching one another. O'Malley, like an ocean liner among sailing boats, strode towards me.
"My cousin Declan," he said, "was a boxer. He used to box from the other side."
"You mean ..." I said, picturing a deceased Declan manifesting like ectoplasm in the ring just long enough to dab a jab at an opponent, then vanishing away. Would his weight class be Deadweight?

I may not be doing NaNoWriMo but I am writing. No, it isn't "The Long Red Time" but you'd be wrong to assume it isn't related; my usual obsessions with Lost Tribes, weird shit, and setting everything in the past. Of course there is research to be done, in this case into anarchism in Spain in the early 20th century. It's also the first thing I've set in Spain since 'Rain' in 1992, and that was set in the 1960s. Which is a waste of familiarity if you ask me; I've lived in Spain as well as Greece and to add to that my Spanish is a lot better than my Greek (and Angela is learning Spanish also; opportunity for practice). In this case I'm also using Catalan because it's set in the Catalan Pyrenees although there's a lost-race language allied to Basque (pardon me, Euskera) floating around as well.
I haven't even been to Spain since 2002 and that was a daytrip across the (now uncontrolled) border from France, as in recent summers I've been to Greece again and again. Have been known to advise people on where to go in Barcelona but my information is several years out of date. Must be time for a return visit.

Tags: languages, spain, writing
Current Mood: working

No Tun for me because I am revising for tomorrow's PRINCE2 (that's Project Management) exam. The course has been intensive and already involved one exam and several mock papers. I have had to pass up the monthly CAMRA branch meeting as well as tonight's Creative Writing class (that doesn't clash with the Tun, last time I went to the Tun from it).
So glad when the weekend comes and I'll be able to go to lproven's birthday drinks (in a pub I haven't been to since 1994).

To mark the introduction of the new recycling bins something strewed rubbish all the way up my garden on Tuesday night. Either it was a fox or else it was someone chucking a bag over from another garden: but why chuck a bag full of non-food waste into someone else's garden unless you're a wazzock? Ah, that would explain it. Fortunately I put gloves on before venturing out to clear it up.

And at the end of the week it's the festival of vandalism, or so we're told; it seems that eggs and flour are not being sold to young people as they use them to attack the unwary. A new one on me was that Hungary's Proclamation Day (23 October) has become an excuse for rioting, so we're not alone in having an otherwise innocent day co-opted by yobs. Why do we have Halloween here at all? I tend to stay in on the 31st - fortunately as I've mentioned earlier the unwary could think my terrace is one house instead of three with the doors to the end houses being at the side. And the way the house is laid out the front can be dark while the rear is in use (you can't do that with a through lounge!). Either stay in or go to the pub at the end of the road.

For a quiet weekend it's actually been productive. Friday night, went to the Twickenham Beer Festival, good (not just 'ok' as I said somewhere else). Saw various people some of whom are on LJ.
Saturday, went to the garden centre and bought hellebores and a heuchera and planted these. Still need to replace the shed as it is now a lot more visible due to trees being cut back nearby and it is very tatty indeed. But still. Possibly a toolbox and a bike locker would do instead of a shed as such.
Saturday night, to the Honest Cabbage to see Sunday's Child who were also more than ok. Much kudos for the version of 'I will survive' performed on a kazoo and rattly things (maraccas?). It was hardly their fault that there was almost no audience.
And today. A slow morning marked only by turning back the clocks (my new bedside clock-radio does it automatically which is nice) and going to the supermarket. Mid morning - yes, it was raining, but Susan phoned and fortunately persuaded me to meet her for a walk in Richmond Park. As she doesn't know the park at all we needed to see some of the highpoints so went to the Isabella Plantation, through the area to the north of it (and saw dozens of deer), then to Pembroke Lodge where we had tea and cake, very civilised. Also looked through the telescope at St Paul's Cathedral. It had long stopped raining.
Back to Norbiton station with a comfortable five minutes before her train - the opposite of Vauxhall Syndrome by which whenever I'm going home from central London I seem to get to Vauxhall station when the Kingston train has just left.
Now I've written out my presentation for the interview on Tuesday and am spooling down ready for tomorrow.

Tags: music, park, pubs, weekends
Current Location: front bedroom
Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: Sunday's Child - "A love like this"

I wondered why my BTInternet mailbox seems to be letting a lot of spam through. It's just come up with an error message "Error training spam filter." Is it refusing to sit or fetch, then?

Last night, over to Islington to set up a friend's new computer. Then off to a pub (the Coronet, a very large Wetherspoons) and then Club Distraction at the Lord Nelson. Any night that can line up Tanz Mit Laibach and Love will Tear us Apart is ok by me. Yes, getting back took several hours but it wasn't quite the same as last week - I stayed over, this a.m. we went and had breakfast in a caff near the Emirates Stadium, then my journey home took me via Kingston town centre where I bought a copy of 'Norwegian Wood' by Murakami and also some groceries. The actual travelling bit was easy even if once again I just missed the Kingston train at Vauxhall (I'm sure this does happen more than you'd expect).
Club Distraction was good - the usual relaxed Gothic attitude even if no real ale - but these places keep being further away! At least in this case I had somewhere to crash out afterwards.

Tags: music, pubs
Current Location: bed
Current Mood: resting

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7668070.stm

It's taken me four hours to get back from Northampton (where I've been to Newcon). Coach from N/n because there were no trains; train from Milton Keynes to somewhere on the outskirts of London, tube to Willesden Junction, tried to get a train to Richmond but there weren't any, more tube, nearly missed the train at Vauxhall because they changed the platform from 8 to 6 ...
Why do the public transport companies seem to think that running public transport on a Sunday is a hobby? Let's think about having engineering works on a Monday, say, or a Wednesday, for a change. "But people need to get to work"? Yes, but they also need to get around on a Sunday and some of them also need to get to work.

At one point last night I was distinctly going to cut my losses and go home even though I'd paid for the hotel room. For some reason I never did. The Ibis Hotel charging me for breakfast didn't put me in a better mood either, nor did the basic functionality of the room with its view over a concrete rooftop expanse and its level of comfort lower than my own bedroom.

Tags: cons
Current Location: Living room
Current Mood: annoyed