It being the end of the year it's time to do the cliched looking-back-thing, however I find myself for the most keenly looking forward.
I'm not saying 2009 is heralding the start of a personal revolution by any means, it's just that I am certain that the new year will being change on a number of levels.
Firstly, I've decided to move.
I moved to my present location primarily because it was geographically central to all the various locations my training and subsequent police station posting. Since I made the jump down here and managed to get myself successfully signed-off as a 'proper copper'- I now find myself living a little out on a limb. Though it was convenient and central for training, now that I've settled into the routine of policing a rural market town, I am tiring of the 50-mile round trip to work and back, the time wasted on a very dull- A-class road and the petrol burned.
Socially, those who live over this way all have families and don't tend to go out that much. Most of the friends and colleagues I've made down here are clustered near where I work. Therefore if my colleagues are going out for a social, it's a real pain to organise transport or places to stay, even for a simple few drinks after a shift. It gets a bit lonely at times.
So sometime soon, possibly even in the next few months, I'll swap this rural market town for another.
Change has come on a personal level too. You don't have to be Sherlock to figure out the identity of the girlfriend and probably have heard by now that we've sadly split up. It's nothing for me to discuss at length here, I have far to much respect for her to do that, however I am probably blessed with the most amicable break-up that one could wish for. I've gained a close and precious friend for the rest of my life; that much is certain.
At work I've learned that I'm getting a new line-manager / Sargent in January which has come to a bit of a shock to all of us on shift. Looking at the rest of the shifts at the station we're probably the closest-knit and I feel like I'm losing a mentor who shepherded me though some really tough times at work. It's another loss that I'm taking quite personally.
Change on a number of levels then.
Perhaps my life needs shaking up a little.
As the great prophet Sheryl Crow once wrote:
"A change, will do you good."
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 01, 2008
Give me a break
The portfolio is handed in.
I’m mere days from being confirmed in rank.
It’s a relief on the one hand; free from the self-induced stigma of the extension, and the oh-so-welcome pay rise.
You’re the first group to gain the NVQ qualification gushed the training staff back in the mists of time when we commenced out training.
Wonderful. I’ve yet to meet any fellow candidate who was particularly thrilled at gaining the qualification, or more importantly ever wanted it in the first place.
An NVQ level four equals something like a foundation degree so I’m told. Another line on the CV should I ever change jobs. But what does an NVQ in policing qualify me for exactly?
Whatever. I don’t care anymore.
Just bring on the pay rise.
Work are cracking down more than ever on using the internet at work; outside of work any murmurings on Facebook and the like trickle back to the station at lightening speed.
The higher-ups increasingly seem to deny we have life other than what is spelt out in PACE.
Seems the public couldn’t care if we get a break either.
Recently I was in a supermarket on my patch. Granted I was on uniformed duty, but I was tired. Hungry.
I parked my patrol car outside and strode into the store to get some refreshments.
Immediately eyebrows were raised as soon as the customers got a glimpse of my uniform. I could almost hear the whispers: Ooo, where’s the shoplifter then?
None here today.
I meander around the aisles and then dutifully I queue up with my coke, sandwich and Kit-Kat. I grab a copy of The Guardian to read in the evening at home.
A couple of twenty-somethings shift impatiently behind me.
What he doing in here? Hasn’t he got time to be out on the streets? One says under their breath to the other.
I turn my head to look at them and bring myself up to my full 6’3” stature.
What I did say, casually:
Sorry, did one of you say something to me?
No, no… They fluster.
I turn back towards the checkout and hear a nervous giggle behind me.
I continue queuing and stride purposefully back out the store.
Mercilessly the radio remains quiet still.
What I should have said:
You try working eleven fucking hours without a break.
I’m mere days from being confirmed in rank.
It’s a relief on the one hand; free from the self-induced stigma of the extension, and the oh-so-welcome pay rise.
You’re the first group to gain the NVQ qualification gushed the training staff back in the mists of time when we commenced out training.
Wonderful. I’ve yet to meet any fellow candidate who was particularly thrilled at gaining the qualification, or more importantly ever wanted it in the first place.
An NVQ level four equals something like a foundation degree so I’m told. Another line on the CV should I ever change jobs. But what does an NVQ in policing qualify me for exactly?
Whatever. I don’t care anymore.
Just bring on the pay rise.
Work are cracking down more than ever on using the internet at work; outside of work any murmurings on Facebook and the like trickle back to the station at lightening speed.
The higher-ups increasingly seem to deny we have life other than what is spelt out in PACE.
Seems the public couldn’t care if we get a break either.
Recently I was in a supermarket on my patch. Granted I was on uniformed duty, but I was tired. Hungry.
I parked my patrol car outside and strode into the store to get some refreshments.
Immediately eyebrows were raised as soon as the customers got a glimpse of my uniform. I could almost hear the whispers: Ooo, where’s the shoplifter then?
None here today.
I meander around the aisles and then dutifully I queue up with my coke, sandwich and Kit-Kat. I grab a copy of The Guardian to read in the evening at home.
A couple of twenty-somethings shift impatiently behind me.
What he doing in here? Hasn’t he got time to be out on the streets? One says under their breath to the other.
I turn my head to look at them and bring myself up to my full 6’3” stature.
What I did say, casually:
Sorry, did one of you say something to me?
No, no… They fluster.
I turn back towards the checkout and hear a nervous giggle behind me.
I continue queuing and stride purposefully back out the store.
Mercilessly the radio remains quiet still.
What I should have said:
You try working eleven fucking hours without a break.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Close, but...
Barring any major catastophies I'm now led to believe that I should be 'signed off' within the coming month.
Just a few more lines of bullshit on my learning portfolio then a whole host of signatures and that should be it over and done with.
I don't know if I'll ever get the portfolio back into my custody, but I've already realised it'd make a pretty good draft-excluder...
So by 'signed off' I mean - confirmed in rank, and job, as a constable.
Those of you who have followed my story, somewhat muted as it is these days, will note that I haven't had the easiest route to this destination.
Though faults may have been my own, and those of others, my goal is within sight.
Now the question rears its head "What next?"
Just a few more lines of bullshit on my learning portfolio then a whole host of signatures and that should be it over and done with.
I don't know if I'll ever get the portfolio back into my custody, but I've already realised it'd make a pretty good draft-excluder...
So by 'signed off' I mean - confirmed in rank, and job, as a constable.
Those of you who have followed my story, somewhat muted as it is these days, will note that I haven't had the easiest route to this destination.
Though faults may have been my own, and those of others, my goal is within sight.
Now the question rears its head "What next?"
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Thirty-one years later
So yesterday I celebrated my thirty-first birthday. Another year older, another year wiser, they say. However, I cannot say I’ve felt particularly different at all for the last five or six birthdays now. My mind is firmly entrenched in my twenties and refuses to move.
I celebrated it down in Norwich with girlfriend & her lad; a nice yummy meal out at Wagamma’s, some thoughtful and quite original presents, a few cards. All -in-all how I like to celebrate birthdays really. Though I’m happy to attend big parties I generally don’t like to be the host or subject of one.
Birthdays are always a good time to stop and take stock. So where do I find myself?
Unmarried, but in the second year of a stable relationship.
‘Plodding’ away in a good job, however one that I’m still trying to figure out.
Not owning my own home, but quite happily renting one in these turbulent economic times.
With few savings, but comparatively little debt.
In close and stable contact with most of my friends and family, yet surprisingly lonesome all-to-often.
Having travelled to 23 countries, yet wishing to travel to many more.
However much things depress me, frustrate me, annoy me and perplex me at times. I sit back and consider… Well, things, could be a lot worse…
I celebrated it down in Norwich with girlfriend & her lad; a nice yummy meal out at Wagamma’s, some thoughtful and quite original presents, a few cards. All -in-all how I like to celebrate birthdays really. Though I’m happy to attend big parties I generally don’t like to be the host or subject of one.
Birthdays are always a good time to stop and take stock. So where do I find myself?
Unmarried, but in the second year of a stable relationship.
‘Plodding’ away in a good job, however one that I’m still trying to figure out.
Not owning my own home, but quite happily renting one in these turbulent economic times.
With few savings, but comparatively little debt.
In close and stable contact with most of my friends and family, yet surprisingly lonesome all-to-often.
Having travelled to 23 countries, yet wishing to travel to many more.
However much things depress me, frustrate me, annoy me and perplex me at times. I sit back and consider… Well, things, could be a lot worse…
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
The day I almost killed my girlfriend
...If I remember correctly, was August 25th, this year.
This was several weeks ago now, whilst holidaying in The Lake District.
Having spent our first day exploring the park, and enjoying a rare break in the otherwise abysmal weather, I sat in the car in Ambleside regarding the map with a furrowed brow.
Ambleside, is the main centre of tourist activity and commerce in the 'Lakes. It was early evening, the sun was beginning to dip behind the peaks, and we were some thirty miles away from our hostel where we would be spending the next few nights.
“There are two routes” I mused aloud, studying the road atlas “We can go the long way round, via the A593 and A595. Or...”
Then I paused momentarily as I traced a small unclassified road that took a more direct route, snaking through the centre of the park.
“...There’s this road here, there’s only one gradient chevron indicated in the atlas, and what’s more with the clear weather it should be pretty stunning scenery.”
“Ok, if you’re sure.” said girlfriend, perhaps more out of tiredness from a long day then perhaps genuine confidence in route planning skills “But it’ll be getting dark soon.”
“Oh we’ll be alright,” I reassured her, and her lad sat in the back of my car, “Trust me.”
“Riiiiight.” Said Girlfriend – her alarm bells already beginning to ring. She stifled a yawn, nervously.
I put the vehicle in gear and turned the car towards Langdale, blissfully unaware.
The first twenty minutes or so proved to be a tranquil drive along narrow country roads, hemmed in either side by dry stone walls. The road hugged the valley floor and for all intents and purposes we could have been driving one of Postman Pat’s gently meandering rounds if only we’d hummed along with the tune.
Then the road began to climb, gently at first, but then gathering altitude in earnest. The valley floor was suddenly hundreds of feet below us. Girlfriend shifted uncomfortably in her seat….
Then she froze as we passed this sign.
“There are two routes” I mused aloud, studying the road atlas “We can go the long way round, via the A593 and A595. Or...”
Then I paused momentarily as I traced a small unclassified road that took a more direct route, snaking through the centre of the park.
“...There’s this road here, there’s only one gradient chevron indicated in the atlas, and what’s more with the clear weather it should be pretty stunning scenery.”
“Ok, if you’re sure.” said girlfriend, perhaps more out of tiredness from a long day then perhaps genuine confidence in route planning skills “But it’ll be getting dark soon.”
“Oh we’ll be alright,” I reassured her, and her lad sat in the back of my car, “Trust me.”
“Riiiiight.” Said Girlfriend – her alarm bells already beginning to ring. She stifled a yawn, nervously.
I put the vehicle in gear and turned the car towards Langdale, blissfully unaware.
The first twenty minutes or so proved to be a tranquil drive along narrow country roads, hemmed in either side by dry stone walls. The road hugged the valley floor and for all intents and purposes we could have been driving one of Postman Pat’s gently meandering rounds if only we’d hummed along with the tune.
Then the road began to climb, gently at first, but then gathering altitude in earnest. The valley floor was suddenly hundreds of feet below us. Girlfriend shifted uncomfortably in her seat….
Then she froze as we passed this sign.
“It’s too late to turn back now, we’re losing the light.” I decided, besides I didn't get a chance to properly read the sign.
I was more worried about the fact that twilight had come all too quickly.
Girlfriend meanwhile, reminded me calmly and firmly how much she really did not like heights in the slightest. Not one bit.
See, maths has never been my strongpoint, at least not when I’m focusing on driving anyway.
Girlfriend meanwhile, reminded me calmly and firmly how much she really did not like heights in the slightest. Not one bit.
See, maths has never been my strongpoint, at least not when I’m focusing on driving anyway.
That’s why I was never any good at calculating stopping distances. Another thing not to tell the Girlfriend I thought. So perhaps that’s why the full impact of 1:3 only really hit me when the valley floor really was hundreds and hundreds of feet bellow now, as we negotiated switchback after switchback.
The car slowed more and more as we climbed. This was going to take a while.
I’d met a few vehicles oncoming, lower down the valley, and they were tricky enough to negotiate a passing point. Stopping on this gradient would be the hill start from hell. In fact there wasn’t a chance to stop; there was nowhere to pull in. It was a case of attacking one bend after the other.
I’d met a few vehicles oncoming, lower down the valley, and they were tricky enough to negotiate a passing point. Stopping on this gradient would be the hill start from hell. In fact there wasn’t a chance to stop; there was nowhere to pull in. It was a case of attacking one bend after the other.
10mph, when you’re halfway up a mountainside, feels like 50.
I’d dropped down even into first gear at this point, and the engine was starting to sound like a norse god of thunder with severe Asthma.
I’d dropped down even into first gear at this point, and the engine was starting to sound like a norse god of thunder with severe Asthma.
I tried to put it into second gear.
The 1.6l engine gave an almighty sigh and began to shudder like it was choking.
Nope, that wasn’t going to work. First gear it would have to be then. For minutes on end.
This was not quite how it appeared on the map.
When we reached the head of the pass, before it dropped down into the next valley – I ventured to ask Girlfriend how she was feeling.
She didn’t reply.
I rebounded the question towards Boyo in the back.
“Yeah, cool!” he replied cheerfully, an answer which buoyed my confidence somewhat. He was clearly enjoying the views, whilst I couldn't afford to take my eyes of the slender ribbon of tamac ahead of me.
At least someone’s got faith in my driving skills I thought because I’m not so sure I can do this...
“Are you okay?” I tried to asked Girlfriend again.
“Mmmm.” Came a muffled reply from the passenger seat.
“What, sorry?”
“Just concentrate ok?!” Girlfriend shot back. I glanced at her – gripping the upholstery like she was sliding out of it towards certain doom - and then back at the road again. Ahead, I could see that we were gathering speed into another set of devilish switchbacks, this time to be tackled going downhill.
Girlfriend seemed to be listening to every whine and hum of the engine.
“I think your gearbox has gone.” She offered.
“Oh, thanks hon.”
Thankfully it hadn’t, but the strain was obvious on the car.
As we descended into the next valley I prised my nails out of the sterring wheel and began to relax a little.
“I think we’re past the worst of it, y’know.”
A mile or two later, the road began to climb once more.
Oh the penny dropped I forgot about the other pass.
And that, dear reader, is where I think in her mind at least, Girlfriend almost killed me.
Her first words upon descending into the relative of Eskdale?
“You owe me a double, of whatever alcoholic drink I choose.”
When we reached the head of the pass, before it dropped down into the next valley – I ventured to ask Girlfriend how she was feeling.
She didn’t reply.
I rebounded the question towards Boyo in the back.
“Yeah, cool!” he replied cheerfully, an answer which buoyed my confidence somewhat. He was clearly enjoying the views, whilst I couldn't afford to take my eyes of the slender ribbon of tamac ahead of me.
At least someone’s got faith in my driving skills I thought because I’m not so sure I can do this...
“Are you okay?” I tried to asked Girlfriend again.
“Mmmm.” Came a muffled reply from the passenger seat.
“What, sorry?”
“Just concentrate ok?!” Girlfriend shot back. I glanced at her – gripping the upholstery like she was sliding out of it towards certain doom - and then back at the road again. Ahead, I could see that we were gathering speed into another set of devilish switchbacks, this time to be tackled going downhill.
Girlfriend seemed to be listening to every whine and hum of the engine.
“I think your gearbox has gone.” She offered.
“Oh, thanks hon.”
Thankfully it hadn’t, but the strain was obvious on the car.
As we descended into the next valley I prised my nails out of the sterring wheel and began to relax a little.
“I think we’re past the worst of it, y’know.”
A mile or two later, the road began to climb once more.
Oh the penny dropped I forgot about the other pass.
And that, dear reader, is where I think in her mind at least, Girlfriend almost killed me.
Her first words upon descending into the relative of Eskdale?
“You owe me a double, of whatever alcoholic drink I choose.”
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Adele - Hometown Glory
Thing is, I hated her debut track - Chasing Pavements' - a track which suffered greatly from the radio overplaying it. This, however, stops me dead every time I hear it. A gorgeous, if melancholy track.
Samim - Heater
This has been out for ages now on the dancefloors, but it still captures the vibe of summer if you ask me.
It also reminds me of two things I seem to be missing of late:
1. a flight to somewhere exotic
2. a damn good ass-shaking bit of dancing
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Magnetic North
I’m a traveller at heart.
I love nothing more than journeying somewhere new, with all the sights, sounds and experiences that come hand-in-hand.
I’m at my most excited when about to leave these shores, and I’m often at my most depressed just after I’ve returned.
With all that said though, due to rising prices, recent expenditure and this whole ‘crunch’ business, the next two weeks will be spent strictly within these borders.
Usually that thought would depress me in itself, but because recent trips to see friends and family up north have often been so hurried, I’m looking forward to spending some quality time in and around the hills where I was born.
So the next few weeks are to be filled with walks, moors, ales, puddings, flattened vowels and significantly lower costs than anywhere south of the Watford Gap.
Also, I’m going to have the pleasure of Northernising two thoroughly East Anglian types, girlfriend and her lad, it’s an opportunity to look again at familiar places with new eyes.
Travel as much as you want; returning home, to where your heart really is, is always something special.
I love nothing more than journeying somewhere new, with all the sights, sounds and experiences that come hand-in-hand.
I’m at my most excited when about to leave these shores, and I’m often at my most depressed just after I’ve returned.
With all that said though, due to rising prices, recent expenditure and this whole ‘crunch’ business, the next two weeks will be spent strictly within these borders.
Usually that thought would depress me in itself, but because recent trips to see friends and family up north have often been so hurried, I’m looking forward to spending some quality time in and around the hills where I was born.
So the next few weeks are to be filled with walks, moors, ales, puddings, flattened vowels and significantly lower costs than anywhere south of the Watford Gap.
Also, I’m going to have the pleasure of Northernising two thoroughly East Anglian types, girlfriend and her lad, it’s an opportunity to look again at familiar places with new eyes.
Travel as much as you want; returning home, to where your heart really is, is always something special.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Live to work, or work to live?
Much as I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with my job, I think I certainly fall into the latter category.
One of the nice things about my shift pattern is that I work six days on, four days off. That may sound like a lot, but consider that the first day begins as soon as I knock-off at 07:00hrs and is mostly slept away in bed.
Four days off however does afford plenty of time to spend with the girlfriend. Although she’s happy to see me, the first day doesn’t exactly have much in-depth conversation short of me mumbling and complaining about sleep, or lack thereof.
Four days also affords plenty of time to plan stuff.
On this set of rest days we’ve managed to fit in a fair few things, despite her having to work 3 out of the 4 days.
Thursday in particular was excellent. Girlfriend maintains good communication and friendship with her ex-husband, who having met him a few times, I must concede is a very sound bloke. Indeed, one part of my brain is always thinking “Y’know, this is awkward;” every time we meet “He used to be married to my girlfriend.” But all the same I can’t fault him. I especially can’t fault a bloke who maintains good steady contact with girlfriend’s, his, son either.
So girlfriend’s ex-husband, who works as an engineer at a local RAF base, kindly extended the invitation to me to accompany them when the base’s annual friends & family day came around this year.
An excellent day was had by girlfriend, her lad, ex and I – perusing the stalls and watching an excellent flying display. Me being the quite the aircraft enthusiast reverted to a mental age younger than her son’s when the Typhoon slammed on its afterburners and the Vulcan cruised gracefully overhead. And as for The Red Arrows, they never fail to disappoint.
We managed to do some catching up at the cinema also and saw ‘The Dark Night’ and ‘WALL-E’. Two excellent films that show filmmakers at the top of their game in two very different ways. I could hark on about how truly brilliant both flicks are, but you should simply abandon any preconceptions you may have about either and go see. You won’t regret it.
An ice-cream here, a coffee there, but we did also go out for dinner here. Yum.
For the first time in a while I actually feel refreshed, mentally and physically, and ready to go back to work.
Let’s see how long that lasts.
One of the nice things about my shift pattern is that I work six days on, four days off. That may sound like a lot, but consider that the first day begins as soon as I knock-off at 07:00hrs and is mostly slept away in bed.
Four days off however does afford plenty of time to spend with the girlfriend. Although she’s happy to see me, the first day doesn’t exactly have much in-depth conversation short of me mumbling and complaining about sleep, or lack thereof.
Four days also affords plenty of time to plan stuff.
On this set of rest days we’ve managed to fit in a fair few things, despite her having to work 3 out of the 4 days.
Thursday in particular was excellent. Girlfriend maintains good communication and friendship with her ex-husband, who having met him a few times, I must concede is a very sound bloke. Indeed, one part of my brain is always thinking “Y’know, this is awkward;” every time we meet “He used to be married to my girlfriend.” But all the same I can’t fault him. I especially can’t fault a bloke who maintains good steady contact with girlfriend’s, his, son either.
So girlfriend’s ex-husband, who works as an engineer at a local RAF base, kindly extended the invitation to me to accompany them when the base’s annual friends & family day came around this year.
An excellent day was had by girlfriend, her lad, ex and I – perusing the stalls and watching an excellent flying display. Me being the quite the aircraft enthusiast reverted to a mental age younger than her son’s when the Typhoon slammed on its afterburners and the Vulcan cruised gracefully overhead. And as for The Red Arrows, they never fail to disappoint.
We managed to do some catching up at the cinema also and saw ‘The Dark Night’ and ‘WALL-E’. Two excellent films that show filmmakers at the top of their game in two very different ways. I could hark on about how truly brilliant both flicks are, but you should simply abandon any preconceptions you may have about either and go see. You won’t regret it.
An ice-cream here, a coffee there, but we did also go out for dinner here. Yum.
For the first time in a while I actually feel refreshed, mentally and physically, and ready to go back to work.
Let’s see how long that lasts.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
"If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs..."
ITV News in their typically scaremongering Daily Mail type-fashion declared this evening that before this recession is out "up to a million people are predicted to loose their jobs".
Two thoughts popped into my head:
- Where the hell did they pluck that figure from?
- As a colleague of mine mentioned earlier today “It’s quite a good time to be working for the government when you think about it.”
It’s a good time to be working in a politically sensitive job where, although there’s always someone who’s going to disagree with what you do, suggest that that they get rid of you altogether, or slim down your numbers, and they recoil in horror at the thought.
See I hate to gloat here, but as long as I get signed-off okay (still some 3-5 months away, paperwork permitting); my job security will be second-to-none. Once I get signed-off then I become harder to fire, which is useful also in a job where every second choice can result in criticism or disciplining if it all goes south. Once I get signed off, I shed my ‘probationer’ status and get an annual pay-rise of some £2500. Bloody useful indeed in this climate.
I think I must be one of a select band of ‘professionals’ living alone in rented accommodation – for which the housing market went way out of his reach several years ago. Sure I could have saddled myself with stratospheric mortgage a few years back, but without the financial security of a live-in partner, I would have been terribly vulnerable to interest rates and the like right about now.
“HOUSE PRICE SHOCK! - Rates plummeting at their fastest rates since... Last Tuesday!” scream the headlines...
That’s brilliant news if you ask me!
Houses should be about living in, not making profit on.
So with some fiscal prudence then, I’m actually poised to ride out any recession in a pretty damn good position.
It’s nice when things go your way for a change.
Apparently thousands of market traders are set to lose their jobs as the recession hits. My sympathy there is minimal; after all they helped get us into this mess in the first place.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Blue lines
Work remains the reason why I seem to blog a lot less these days, and why I have significantly less material to work with.
Damn, I wish I could spill what it’s really like for a modern police officer these days – how the praise from anything you do immediately gravitates upwards, and how if there’s any shit to be flung, you can generally tell it’s going to fall squarely on yourself.
How the thin blue line is worrying thin indeed at times.
How you’re often one decision from losing your job, but how much pressure you’re under to make that decision. And fast.
I’m approaching the end of my training, and as it tuned out I should have been looking to be signed off in August as a fully-fledged-and-significantly-harder-to-fire officer. As it turns out I’ve been extended for a few months into the autumn to give me a little longer to get my learning portfolio and get some operational issues in order.
Consider it like doing a university assignment and asking your tutor to give you an extension because of extraneous circumstances.
Some of these issues were under my control, or perhaps I could have changed if I really tried, others have been way out of my control.
Still, I do enjoy what I do and strive to be the best I can, however lady luck appears to have been significantly absent for me during the first part of the year. At least at work anyway.
I’m a few keystrokes away from telling you what it’s really like behind the uniform, but I’ve had my fingers burnt once before.
If you’re ever in my part of the world – come have a drink with me.
I’ll tell you what it’s really like.
Damn, I wish I could spill what it’s really like for a modern police officer these days – how the praise from anything you do immediately gravitates upwards, and how if there’s any shit to be flung, you can generally tell it’s going to fall squarely on yourself.
How the thin blue line is worrying thin indeed at times.
How you’re often one decision from losing your job, but how much pressure you’re under to make that decision. And fast.
I’m approaching the end of my training, and as it tuned out I should have been looking to be signed off in August as a fully-fledged-and-significantly-harder-to-fire officer. As it turns out I’ve been extended for a few months into the autumn to give me a little longer to get my learning portfolio and get some operational issues in order.
Consider it like doing a university assignment and asking your tutor to give you an extension because of extraneous circumstances.
Some of these issues were under my control, or perhaps I could have changed if I really tried, others have been way out of my control.
Still, I do enjoy what I do and strive to be the best I can, however lady luck appears to have been significantly absent for me during the first part of the year. At least at work anyway.
I’m a few keystrokes away from telling you what it’s really like behind the uniform, but I’ve had my fingers burnt once before.
If you’re ever in my part of the world – come have a drink with me.
I’ll tell you what it’s really like.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Best Man's Speech
Distinguished guests, ladies, gentleman, boys, girls and even monkeys (wherever they may be - in-joke... long story...). I’ve been dreading introducing the final speaker today; for that speaker is me.
When I began to write this speech, all of a couple of hours ago during the service, I imagined that the Best Man’s role to be somewhat comparable to that of being a Prime Minister. It’s one of those jobs that everyone would like to have a crack at, but when they realise the responsibility involved, and how closely your speeches get scrutinised, you’d think twice about taking it on.
As a Best Man then I am duty-bound then to sprinkle-in some mildly humiliating stories from the happy couple’s respective childhoods. Well, mainly Chris’ at least…. So when my brother here asked me to take on this job, the sense of honour I felt was mixed with a fait foreboding. How would he take it if I spilled the beans and the told the whole truth? How he was imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, how he escaped from a maximum security prison and survives today as a soldier of fortune and part-time member of Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force?
You’ll be glad to know, only half of that last bit is true….
Christopher * * * * was born to us in the year of our lord nineteen-hundred-and-seventy. The year when the Beatles Split, Monty Python exploded onto our screens and Apollo 13 came back alive.
The first of two brothers to be born to our eccentric little family, our English/Swedish parents decided to give him the straightforward rather traditional English name of Christopher – the complete syllables of which were only uttered in future when he was generally getting up to mischief. Whilst seven years later I was given the Swedish name of Ingmar, Chris was no doubt eternally grateful to have got the less-exotic name of the two – apparently the name ‘Jan’ was considered for him at one point, but knowing the Armed Forces’ tradition for ridicule he feared this would have translated into ‘Yawn’ by his colleagues. Chris rarely reveals his middle name – ‘Leif’ taken from our Swedish grandfather, fearing again that this might get lost in translation and that he may be dubbed ‘leaf’ by his colleagues.
According to the gospel of Wikkipedia – Christopher is the English version of a Europe-wide name derived from the Ancient Greek ‘Khristóphoros’ and the Christian legend of St Christopher. The name means “Christ-bearer”, or more literally “Bearer of the anointed one”. In modern RAF slang this apparently translates as ‘I hope to Christ he gets this thing fixed.’
Be it the occasional vaccum between his ears or his inexplicable childhood fascination with cranes, Chris’ desitiny you could say was always linked to the air from a very young age.
As a schoolchild, Chris would occasionally be so determined to avoid revision that he took to the air quite literally himself - by jumping out of our first floor window onto the back lawn in order to sneak past the parents and hang out with friends. Avoiding revision, I can attest, is certainly a family trait I share; I just never took it to quite such a spectacular level.
The aeronautical engineer in him began to assert itself during his teenage years when on Bonfire Night not satisfied with the “Oohs” and “Ahhs” of traditional firework displays. Chris and some of his friends would head down to nearby woodland and aim fireworks at each other purely for fun. He soon began to find a knack for jerry-rigging rockets and bangers to create his own ordnance to scare his friends and the local wildlife.
Chris eventually found safer ways to study aerospace engineering and take to the skies by joining the Air Cadets. He soon excelled as a junior officer and budding glider pilot and I am reliably informed that during these years he had many young female cadets’ hearts a-flutter. Suffice as to say that his favourite movie around this time was Top Gun, and I believe that in Nicky he’s finally found his Kelly McGillis.
Speaking of co-starring blondes, what can I say of Nicky, my new sister in law? I can start with how glad I am to welcome her into this crazy family of ours, how beautiful she looks on this truly special day…. And how sorry I am for Farnham Newsagents who have now lost all her umpteen wedding magazine subscriptions and find themselves struggling to balance their orders.
Looking at the happy couple, I wonder if love hath seen no greater sacrifice... For what greater token of love could there be than for Christopher to be here with his bride on this special day, and not cheering on his beloved Hull City in the Championship play-off finals with tens of thousands of other fans at Wembley Stadium.
*drape Hull City scarf around groom's neck*
It’s a funny thing for a younger brother to be proud of his older brother; it’s usually the other way around isn’t it? But I am immensely proud and honoured to have been asked to be my brother’s Best Man and to share this day with you all. For this day is the first day of the rest of Chris and Nicky’s life together.
All that remains is for me for me to ask you all to charge your glasses once more and rise to your feet as, Ladies and Gentleman, I give you the bride and groom.
When I began to write this speech, all of a couple of hours ago during the service, I imagined that the Best Man’s role to be somewhat comparable to that of being a Prime Minister. It’s one of those jobs that everyone would like to have a crack at, but when they realise the responsibility involved, and how closely your speeches get scrutinised, you’d think twice about taking it on.
As a Best Man then I am duty-bound then to sprinkle-in some mildly humiliating stories from the happy couple’s respective childhoods. Well, mainly Chris’ at least…. So when my brother here asked me to take on this job, the sense of honour I felt was mixed with a fait foreboding. How would he take it if I spilled the beans and the told the whole truth? How he was imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, how he escaped from a maximum security prison and survives today as a soldier of fortune and part-time member of Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force?
You’ll be glad to know, only half of that last bit is true….
Christopher * * * * was born to us in the year of our lord nineteen-hundred-and-seventy. The year when the Beatles Split, Monty Python exploded onto our screens and Apollo 13 came back alive.
The first of two brothers to be born to our eccentric little family, our English/Swedish parents decided to give him the straightforward rather traditional English name of Christopher – the complete syllables of which were only uttered in future when he was generally getting up to mischief. Whilst seven years later I was given the Swedish name of Ingmar, Chris was no doubt eternally grateful to have got the less-exotic name of the two – apparently the name ‘Jan’ was considered for him at one point, but knowing the Armed Forces’ tradition for ridicule he feared this would have translated into ‘Yawn’ by his colleagues. Chris rarely reveals his middle name – ‘Leif’ taken from our Swedish grandfather, fearing again that this might get lost in translation and that he may be dubbed ‘leaf’ by his colleagues.
According to the gospel of Wikkipedia – Christopher is the English version of a Europe-wide name derived from the Ancient Greek ‘Khristóphoros’ and the Christian legend of St Christopher. The name means “Christ-bearer”, or more literally “Bearer of the anointed one”. In modern RAF slang this apparently translates as ‘I hope to Christ he gets this thing fixed.’
Be it the occasional vaccum between his ears or his inexplicable childhood fascination with cranes, Chris’ desitiny you could say was always linked to the air from a very young age.
As a schoolchild, Chris would occasionally be so determined to avoid revision that he took to the air quite literally himself - by jumping out of our first floor window onto the back lawn in order to sneak past the parents and hang out with friends. Avoiding revision, I can attest, is certainly a family trait I share; I just never took it to quite such a spectacular level.
The aeronautical engineer in him began to assert itself during his teenage years when on Bonfire Night not satisfied with the “Oohs” and “Ahhs” of traditional firework displays. Chris and some of his friends would head down to nearby woodland and aim fireworks at each other purely for fun. He soon began to find a knack for jerry-rigging rockets and bangers to create his own ordnance to scare his friends and the local wildlife.
Chris eventually found safer ways to study aerospace engineering and take to the skies by joining the Air Cadets. He soon excelled as a junior officer and budding glider pilot and I am reliably informed that during these years he had many young female cadets’ hearts a-flutter. Suffice as to say that his favourite movie around this time was Top Gun, and I believe that in Nicky he’s finally found his Kelly McGillis.
Speaking of co-starring blondes, what can I say of Nicky, my new sister in law? I can start with how glad I am to welcome her into this crazy family of ours, how beautiful she looks on this truly special day…. And how sorry I am for Farnham Newsagents who have now lost all her umpteen wedding magazine subscriptions and find themselves struggling to balance their orders.
Looking at the happy couple, I wonder if love hath seen no greater sacrifice... For what greater token of love could there be than for Christopher to be here with his bride on this special day, and not cheering on his beloved Hull City in the Championship play-off finals with tens of thousands of other fans at Wembley Stadium.
*drape Hull City scarf around groom's neck*
It’s a funny thing for a younger brother to be proud of his older brother; it’s usually the other way around isn’t it? But I am immensely proud and honoured to have been asked to be my brother’s Best Man and to share this day with you all. For this day is the first day of the rest of Chris and Nicky’s life together.
All that remains is for me for me to ask you all to charge your glasses once more and rise to your feet as, Ladies and Gentleman, I give you the bride and groom.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The secret history of my place
With house prices being as utterly insane as they are, a single-earner like me finds himself renting a small house on the edge of a bustling little market town in the Midlands. I’m lucky that the monthly rate is relatively cheap for what it is and I’m surrounded by some quite pleasant neighbours at the end of a quiet little cul-de-sac.
One of the couples living next door I chat to quite often and we stood having a natter this afternoon in the sun, clutching gardening tools.
They’ve seen many tenants come and go over the years and they began to relate to me some of the stories of those who lived there.
Bearing in mind that it’s a house built in the last few decades and it’s in a quite respectable part of town…
I could have never have guess that the place had once been raided for drugs by the very force that I work for…
And that a baby had once been born in the front room!
They’re a very respectable couple, and I have no reason to disbelieve them.
I now look at the place a little differently.
One of the couples living next door I chat to quite often and we stood having a natter this afternoon in the sun, clutching gardening tools.
They’ve seen many tenants come and go over the years and they began to relate to me some of the stories of those who lived there.
Bearing in mind that it’s a house built in the last few decades and it’s in a quite respectable part of town…
I could have never have guess that the place had once been raided for drugs by the very force that I work for…
And that a baby had once been born in the front room!
They’re a very respectable couple, and I have no reason to disbelieve them.
I now look at the place a little differently.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Speech!
One week then, until I stand up in front of a room full of relatives, friends and relative unknowns to deliver a speech as my brother’s best man.
Dry throat, expectant faces, being the final speaker of the day… Let’s just say I’m not exactly looking forward to the prospect.
Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking I’m going to read straight from A4 double-lined sheets, as opposed to prompt-cards or straight from memory. Try as I might I’ll strive to maintain a bit of eye contact with the audience here and there.
I’ve been working on it for the best part of a month now but it’s a tricky beast to get just right.
Do I stray too far into humour and end up with tumbleweeds rolling past?
Or do I keep it serious and watch the heads drop into the leftovers of the wedding breakfast.
The temptation is to steal the best one-liners from the book I bought on this very subject; however the long-suppressed writer in me thinks I should be shot for even considering such a thought.
I think I’m going to tread down the familiar route of recounting a few amusing stories from my brother’s youth – steering clear of any taboo subjects such as ex-girlfriends and-the-like.
I’ve got at least several minutes to fill and I’m too much of a coward to take any more of a risk than that.
However, any clever ideas / tips you may have – feel free to stick them on a comment or email. Should the speech be satisfactorily received then I may even publish it on here in the long run.
Dry throat, expectant faces, being the final speaker of the day… Let’s just say I’m not exactly looking forward to the prospect.
Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking I’m going to read straight from A4 double-lined sheets, as opposed to prompt-cards or straight from memory. Try as I might I’ll strive to maintain a bit of eye contact with the audience here and there.
I’ve been working on it for the best part of a month now but it’s a tricky beast to get just right.
Do I stray too far into humour and end up with tumbleweeds rolling past?
Or do I keep it serious and watch the heads drop into the leftovers of the wedding breakfast.
The temptation is to steal the best one-liners from the book I bought on this very subject; however the long-suppressed writer in me thinks I should be shot for even considering such a thought.
I think I’m going to tread down the familiar route of recounting a few amusing stories from my brother’s youth – steering clear of any taboo subjects such as ex-girlfriends and-the-like.
I’ve got at least several minutes to fill and I’m too much of a coward to take any more of a risk than that.
However, any clever ideas / tips you may have – feel free to stick them on a comment or email. Should the speech be satisfactorily received then I may even publish it on here in the long run.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Out of breath
Every single time I come home from work, I do so with the best intention to be productive in the evening, following morning or whatever constitutes the gap between my next shifts.
My well-intentioned plans keep falling by the wayside on a daily basis.
Today I worked from 07:00 through 18:00. I set off for home thinking
“Yeah, I’ll do some learning portfolio work tonight.”
Returning home with 40-min each way commute added onto the already 11hr shift, and not discounting the 30-or-so mins that I voluntarily stayed behind in order to get some of my workload all-square…
Arrive home, cook a meal and then next thing I know it’s slipping past 21:00 and I find myself flopping down in front of a monitor over here, or a television over there with a drink.
And then I really should get some sleep.
Few hours of rapid-eye-movement later and then I simply turn around and head in the other direction.
Or so it feels.
One of the reasons I chose policing, and one of the reasons I do adore this more crazy of jobs, is the fact that no two days are the same. There’s always somewhere, someone, or something new to tackle. If it wasn’t for that fact that I really would be going mad of late.
I mean, how do office workers cope?
I have a spectacular lack of drive out of work; I’m just simply exhausted.
Apologies readers, bear with me...
My well-intentioned plans keep falling by the wayside on a daily basis.
Today I worked from 07:00 through 18:00. I set off for home thinking
“Yeah, I’ll do some learning portfolio work tonight.”
Returning home with 40-min each way commute added onto the already 11hr shift, and not discounting the 30-or-so mins that I voluntarily stayed behind in order to get some of my workload all-square…
Arrive home, cook a meal and then next thing I know it’s slipping past 21:00 and I find myself flopping down in front of a monitor over here, or a television over there with a drink.
And then I really should get some sleep.
Few hours of rapid-eye-movement later and then I simply turn around and head in the other direction.
Or so it feels.
One of the reasons I chose policing, and one of the reasons I do adore this more crazy of jobs, is the fact that no two days are the same. There’s always somewhere, someone, or something new to tackle. If it wasn’t for that fact that I really would be going mad of late.
I mean, how do office workers cope?
I have a spectacular lack of drive out of work; I’m just simply exhausted.
Apologies readers, bear with me...
Monday, April 28, 2008
Taking a breather
Thanks for the well-wishes over text, email and blog.
Dad was discharged yesterday evening after convincing his doctors that basically that he'd be a lot more comfortable up north, in familiar surroundings.
Thankfully this meant I was able to drive him to my house (roughly halfway) where he was able to get a proper night's sleep before continuing north this morning.
He assures me he's now back to rude health again.
I did have great plans this evening of catching up on study, reading and the like now I'm back to being on my lonesome.
However I find myself doing little of note this evening.
I'm just tired...
Dad was discharged yesterday evening after convincing his doctors that basically that he'd be a lot more comfortable up north, in familiar surroundings.
Thankfully this meant I was able to drive him to my house (roughly halfway) where he was able to get a proper night's sleep before continuing north this morning.
He assures me he's now back to rude health again.
I did have great plans this evening of catching up on study, reading and the like now I'm back to being on my lonesome.
However I find myself doing little of note this evening.
I'm just tired...
Sunday, April 27, 2008
It never just rains...
Well April jut gets better.
No sooner do I get my car back…
Return from my uncle’s funeral…
Than my father falls ill with an irregular heartbeat and gets rushed into A&E.
Problem is that we were visiting girlfriend at the time down in Norfolk.
He’s been admitted to hospital here…
But I’m due on shift at 07:00 tomorrow, some 50+ miles away.
Girlfriend has to head down to London for a work course.
Essentially, Dad potentially may be kept for another night in an unfamiliar county.
Picking him up and visiting him may be over a 100-mile trip.
And rumours are that visiting hours are heavily restricted at this place due to a MRSA-type-outbreak.
Wonderful.
No sooner do I get my car back…
Return from my uncle’s funeral…
Than my father falls ill with an irregular heartbeat and gets rushed into A&E.
Problem is that we were visiting girlfriend at the time down in Norfolk.
He’s been admitted to hospital here…
But I’m due on shift at 07:00 tomorrow, some 50+ miles away.
Girlfriend has to head down to London for a work course.
Essentially, Dad potentially may be kept for another night in an unfamiliar county.
Picking him up and visiting him may be over a 100-mile trip.
And rumours are that visiting hours are heavily restricted at this place due to a MRSA-type-outbreak.
Wonderful.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Further journal entries
More random journal scribbles from my recent trip to Munich and Liechtenstein...
"The hum of tens of different languages drifts by on the re-circulated air, broken occasionally by hearty laughter from a seemingly disproportionate number of stag party hoards marching past."
"A phalanx of fire emergency vehicles just whizzed past the end of this set of gates with blue lights and sirens wailing. Yikes, I’m about to board a flight in the next few minutes… Where the hell were they going?"
"The Olympic Park was packed full of people on a bright spring day; strolling, eating hot dogs and walking actual dogs too."
"A supposedly Greek temple in supposedly English gardens then, but beautiful and serene it is. Or at least it was until some little devil spawn decided to shatter the peace."
"And on to one of Munich’s numerous beer-halls for the Starkbierfest – literally ‘Strong Beer Festival’ – for a couple of tankards of bloody strong ale, all to the tune of a Bavarian band playing traditional drinking songs and random covers of American oldies."
"Seems like I’ve caught a travel bug. Quite literally. The last 36 hours I’ve been running a temperature, getting aches in all sorts of funny places and generally sniffling like Niagra. I blame the Aussie couple coughing behind me on the flight like they had a case of SARS, or the fantastically obese German guy to the front who also coughed, spluttered and generally occupied my airspace. This means that my usual ambles around the city have been reduced to a zombie-like shuffle."
"Two observations about Germans and Munich:
1. Germans don’t really observe queues as religiously as your average Brit
2. You’re never more than a few blocks from a bakery in this town"
"Packed and caught the train in plenty of time. So, all to plan so far. Worryingly so."
"Packs-on-backs we walked over the bridge into Liechtenstein from Switzerland crossing quite probably one of the most low-key borders you’re likely to find. Country number 23 it is then. And a very small one at that."
"Realising quite quickly that not very much was going to be open, we made priority #1 getting a ‘souvenir passport stamp’ – interestingly from the Art Museum in town as the Tourist Office was shut. How does that work?"
"Not being a keen skier or having ever skied before full-stop I was unfamiliar with the chair lift operations generally. When the safety bar swung back up instead of clicking into place I was left grasping at thin air, tens of meters off the ground, halfway up the peak. I quickly figured out the mechanism whilst gulping down alungful of air and vowing that I should really figure this Ski-lark out some day soon."
"Pizza is on the menu in this town, and the owner of the place has a quite brilliant mullet..."
"Having practically ‘done’ the country in one fell swoop, we shrugged and popped over to Austria for a quick coffee."
"This being Liechtenstein you could bank on the national art gallery being open, but little else at that."
"The trolley guy on the train entered our carriage singing. Nobody really batted an eyelid. That is until the guy, who was clearly an African immigrant, started joking to passengers in a mix of German and English with some spectacularly borderline comments about slavery and-the-like. Being British I treated this with a raised eyebrow or two, and said nothing, but my liberal American friend across the table could not stop her jaw from quite literally hitting the floor."
"Compared to many cities, Munich doesn’t exactly make it straight-forward to get from the city to the airport. On a wing and a fare-dodge I got here having realised halfway into the journey that I’d bought the wrong ticket at the station. No wonder they want to build a highly expensive and controversial Maglev train line to the airport then. Amen to that. The confusion that began in the city continued at the airport where rather than going for gates 1-99 say, Munich goes for alphabet soup, with various stages before your flight liberally sprinkled around all four corners of the airport."
"The hum of tens of different languages drifts by on the re-circulated air, broken occasionally by hearty laughter from a seemingly disproportionate number of stag party hoards marching past."
"A phalanx of fire emergency vehicles just whizzed past the end of this set of gates with blue lights and sirens wailing. Yikes, I’m about to board a flight in the next few minutes… Where the hell were they going?"
"The Olympic Park was packed full of people on a bright spring day; strolling, eating hot dogs and walking actual dogs too."
"A supposedly Greek temple in supposedly English gardens then, but beautiful and serene it is. Or at least it was until some little devil spawn decided to shatter the peace."
"And on to one of Munich’s numerous beer-halls for the Starkbierfest – literally ‘Strong Beer Festival’ – for a couple of tankards of bloody strong ale, all to the tune of a Bavarian band playing traditional drinking songs and random covers of American oldies."
"Seems like I’ve caught a travel bug. Quite literally. The last 36 hours I’ve been running a temperature, getting aches in all sorts of funny places and generally sniffling like Niagra. I blame the Aussie couple coughing behind me on the flight like they had a case of SARS, or the fantastically obese German guy to the front who also coughed, spluttered and generally occupied my airspace. This means that my usual ambles around the city have been reduced to a zombie-like shuffle."
"Two observations about Germans and Munich:
1. Germans don’t really observe queues as religiously as your average Brit
2. You’re never more than a few blocks from a bakery in this town"
"Packed and caught the train in plenty of time. So, all to plan so far. Worryingly so."
"Packs-on-backs we walked over the bridge into Liechtenstein from Switzerland crossing quite probably one of the most low-key borders you’re likely to find. Country number 23 it is then. And a very small one at that."
"Realising quite quickly that not very much was going to be open, we made priority #1 getting a ‘souvenir passport stamp’ – interestingly from the Art Museum in town as the Tourist Office was shut. How does that work?"
"Not being a keen skier or having ever skied before full-stop I was unfamiliar with the chair lift operations generally. When the safety bar swung back up instead of clicking into place I was left grasping at thin air, tens of meters off the ground, halfway up the peak. I quickly figured out the mechanism whilst gulping down alungful of air and vowing that I should really figure this Ski-lark out some day soon."
"Pizza is on the menu in this town, and the owner of the place has a quite brilliant mullet..."
"Having practically ‘done’ the country in one fell swoop, we shrugged and popped over to Austria for a quick coffee."
"This being Liechtenstein you could bank on the national art gallery being open, but little else at that."
"The trolley guy on the train entered our carriage singing. Nobody really batted an eyelid. That is until the guy, who was clearly an African immigrant, started joking to passengers in a mix of German and English with some spectacularly borderline comments about slavery and-the-like. Being British I treated this with a raised eyebrow or two, and said nothing, but my liberal American friend across the table could not stop her jaw from quite literally hitting the floor."
"Compared to many cities, Munich doesn’t exactly make it straight-forward to get from the city to the airport. On a wing and a fare-dodge I got here having realised halfway into the journey that I’d bought the wrong ticket at the station. No wonder they want to build a highly expensive and controversial Maglev train line to the airport then. Amen to that. The confusion that began in the city continued at the airport where rather than going for gates 1-99 say, Munich goes for alphabet soup, with various stages before your flight liberally sprinkled around all four corners of the airport."
Monday, April 07, 2008
New Car Review - Peugeot 207
Peugeot’s update of the enormously popular 206 translates into an even sleeker and sportier supermini than its predecessor.
Trademark oval headlights frame a much wider grill, and gone are the bonnet vents that defined its predecessor. Strangely the Peugeot badge itself feels the need to dominate the front end (in case you ever forget what you’re driving). But ignoring the boisterous front-end, other stylistic refinements such as bug-eye light-clusters to the rear continue to improve on the successful 206-template.
This driver prefers usually prefers to fit his 6’3” ft frame into a slightly larger vehicle, but found the 207 surprisingly roomy inside with a good driving position. Tall persons would certainly feel cramped in the back; thankfully this one has been doing most of the driving. The cockpit is stylish, however in places not particularly practical. Peugeot have dressed much of the interior with non-slip mats to place items upon, leaving a miniscule glovebox to hide any valuables from immediate sight. I haven’t yet found out if items stay put when talking a particularly sharp corner at speed, and I’m not really looking forward to finding out either. The dials are all present and correct, finished in a black and silver colour-scheme that illuminates in street-lamp amber come nightfall. The trip-computer/audio system mounted on the centre of the console is forever chipping in with useful information whether you like it or not, and has options a-plenty to keep the average gadget-junkie occupied.
The 1.4l provides ample ‘nippyness’ and cruises surprisingly well on longer journeys. Acceleration is a little anaemic, and the ride is mostly quiet, but hit 4,000rpm and the engine growls like you’ve just stepped on its tail. Just don’t expect to win a drag-race off the lights in this model. Perhaps I’m not used to it, but the power-steering at lower speeds is worryingly light – I’m worried that I might sneeze it into next door’s garden when setting-off at times, but thankfully it weights down as speeds increase.
Going back to the interior though – the piece de resistance is the panoramic sunroof. Neatly hidden by tinted glass and a long telescopic panel at first, opening it fully transforms your driving view, whilst bathing the interior in natural light and managing not to make you feel quite as ‘naked’ as you might in a convertible.
All-in-all; a fresh and funky courtesy car, but hand-on-heart, I do miss my Ford Focus.
Trademark oval headlights frame a much wider grill, and gone are the bonnet vents that defined its predecessor. Strangely the Peugeot badge itself feels the need to dominate the front end (in case you ever forget what you’re driving). But ignoring the boisterous front-end, other stylistic refinements such as bug-eye light-clusters to the rear continue to improve on the successful 206-template.
This driver prefers usually prefers to fit his 6’3” ft frame into a slightly larger vehicle, but found the 207 surprisingly roomy inside with a good driving position. Tall persons would certainly feel cramped in the back; thankfully this one has been doing most of the driving. The cockpit is stylish, however in places not particularly practical. Peugeot have dressed much of the interior with non-slip mats to place items upon, leaving a miniscule glovebox to hide any valuables from immediate sight. I haven’t yet found out if items stay put when talking a particularly sharp corner at speed, and I’m not really looking forward to finding out either. The dials are all present and correct, finished in a black and silver colour-scheme that illuminates in street-lamp amber come nightfall. The trip-computer/audio system mounted on the centre of the console is forever chipping in with useful information whether you like it or not, and has options a-plenty to keep the average gadget-junkie occupied.
The 1.4l provides ample ‘nippyness’ and cruises surprisingly well on longer journeys. Acceleration is a little anaemic, and the ride is mostly quiet, but hit 4,000rpm and the engine growls like you’ve just stepped on its tail. Just don’t expect to win a drag-race off the lights in this model. Perhaps I’m not used to it, but the power-steering at lower speeds is worryingly light – I’m worried that I might sneeze it into next door’s garden when setting-off at times, but thankfully it weights down as speeds increase.
Going back to the interior though – the piece de resistance is the panoramic sunroof. Neatly hidden by tinted glass and a long telescopic panel at first, opening it fully transforms your driving view, whilst bathing the interior in natural light and managing not to make you feel quite as ‘naked’ as you might in a convertible.
All-in-all; a fresh and funky courtesy car, but hand-on-heart, I do miss my Ford Focus.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Picking up the pieces
So much for easing into the month of April with a few practical jokes.
After years of driving safely I had my first road accident yesterday.
Driving on an A-Class road in one of England’s less populous counties, even at a safe following distance, you don’t expect the articulated lorry in front of you to suddenly slow from approximately 40mph to a very sudden halt in order to let vehicles out from a side road.
I’m fine, although a little sore in places, but I’m no ambulance chaser and won’t be perusing anything beyond an insurance claim for the damage. My car however is rather poorly and is currently at accident repair centre awaiting some TLC.
I arrive into work late with the accompanying piss-taking, shrug, laugh and carry on. Spectacularly annoying it may have been, that’s quite literally one of life’s little knocks. It had to happen on April 1st didn't it?
I get home from work sometime just gone one o’clock this morning.
There are two texts on my mobile.
One was from the girlfriend checking up on me, following the shunt.
The second was from my mother and quite simply said:
CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN
I stared at the message for as the quiet realisation of the past few weeks sunk in. I glanced again at my watch and realised that the inevitable conversation could wait until the morning.
Ten hours later, with a clearer mind I called my mother and she confirmed that my uncle Kenneth passed away last night, following a frighteningly swift decline at the mercy of an aggressive tumour.
I have not the words for fitting tribute at this moment; but I loved him, and he deserved to know earlier than he did.
After years of driving safely I had my first road accident yesterday.
Driving on an A-Class road in one of England’s less populous counties, even at a safe following distance, you don’t expect the articulated lorry in front of you to suddenly slow from approximately 40mph to a very sudden halt in order to let vehicles out from a side road.
I’m fine, although a little sore in places, but I’m no ambulance chaser and won’t be perusing anything beyond an insurance claim for the damage. My car however is rather poorly and is currently at accident repair centre awaiting some TLC.
I arrive into work late with the accompanying piss-taking, shrug, laugh and carry on. Spectacularly annoying it may have been, that’s quite literally one of life’s little knocks. It had to happen on April 1st didn't it?
I get home from work sometime just gone one o’clock this morning.
There are two texts on my mobile.
One was from the girlfriend checking up on me, following the shunt.
The second was from my mother and quite simply said:
CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN
I stared at the message for as the quiet realisation of the past few weeks sunk in. I glanced again at my watch and realised that the inevitable conversation could wait until the morning.
Ten hours later, with a clearer mind I called my mother and she confirmed that my uncle Kenneth passed away last night, following a frighteningly swift decline at the mercy of an aggressive tumour.
I have not the words for fitting tribute at this moment; but I loved him, and he deserved to know earlier than he did.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The 300th
(Post, that is...)
*muffled cheers*
The main reason I probably don’t blog with the same frequency that I used to is that the main subject I wish to share with you, and how ever careful I was trying to do so before, is not something I can continue doing. Specifically since some Judas I work with somewhere keeps trying to get me stitched up for it, by reading these pages and going straight to a supervisor instead of coming to me first. Whoever you are, you’re a bastard.
I can speak of recent travel adventures however, and in a future post I’ll share some random scribbles from my journal (something I diligently do when travelling) regarding recent trip to Germany and Liechtenstein, with brief trips to Switzerland and Austria thrown in for good measure.
I’ve had some grim news in recent weeks though. One of my uncles is gravely ill with stomach cancer. He’s over in Sweden at the moment, and here in the UK I feel somewhat powerless to do much apart from keep in close contact over the phone and internet. I do hope to see him again soon, and god forbid should the worst happen sooner than expected I’ve negotiated through work to be able to take short-term emergency leave. I think my Dad said it best though in recent days when he stated “I think we’re a bit past the get-well card stage now.”
*muffled cheers*
The main reason I probably don’t blog with the same frequency that I used to is that the main subject I wish to share with you, and how ever careful I was trying to do so before, is not something I can continue doing. Specifically since some Judas I work with somewhere keeps trying to get me stitched up for it, by reading these pages and going straight to a supervisor instead of coming to me first. Whoever you are, you’re a bastard.
I can speak of recent travel adventures however, and in a future post I’ll share some random scribbles from my journal (something I diligently do when travelling) regarding recent trip to Germany and Liechtenstein, with brief trips to Switzerland and Austria thrown in for good measure.
I’ve had some grim news in recent weeks though. One of my uncles is gravely ill with stomach cancer. He’s over in Sweden at the moment, and here in the UK I feel somewhat powerless to do much apart from keep in close contact over the phone and internet. I do hope to see him again soon, and god forbid should the worst happen sooner than expected I’ve negotiated through work to be able to take short-term emergency leave. I think my Dad said it best though in recent days when he stated “I think we’re a bit past the get-well card stage now.”
Monday, March 03, 2008
Lufthansa Airbus trying to land at Hamburg Airport
This has been all over the news over here. Oh my god. Buy that pilot a beer!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Three weeks off
The plan is to...
Catch up on most of my lost sleep from the past six months
Decide if the new goldfrapp album is 'great', or 'meh'
Walk more
Do coffee more
Read plenty of books that I’ve had on my lengthy to-read list
Help girlfriend with all those little jobs around her place
Visit my brother
Help my brother with all those little jobs around his new place
Make my flight in time
Visit friends in southern Germany
Successfully plan and execute an assault on Lichtenstein
Try not to decimate last months’ surprisingly healthy pay-packet entirely
Catch up on most of my lost sleep from the past six months
Decide if the new goldfrapp album is 'great', or 'meh'
Walk more
Do coffee more
Read plenty of books that I’ve had on my lengthy to-read list
Help girlfriend with all those little jobs around her place
Visit my brother
Help my brother with all those little jobs around his new place
Make my flight in time
Visit friends in southern Germany
Successfully plan and execute an assault on Lichtenstein
Try not to decimate last months’ surprisingly healthy pay-packet entirely
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Once more, with feeling
Why that when something happens to someone these days, be it a tragedy or a victory, be it to a CEO or a housewife, do they stand before the massed media reading a carefully worded statement?
I understand that in these days of lawsuits gone mad, one has to chose one's words carefully, but doesn't anyone just react anymore? Say what's on their mind? What they really think? Not what's scripted best?
Call me cynical, but it's a shame when even a head teacher of a primary school has to lower his eyes to a written statement every second line whilst reciting in complete monotone regarding a tragedy.
Someone break the mould.
Next time something of note happens to you, and you're asked for an opinion, say what you really think.
I understand that in these days of lawsuits gone mad, one has to chose one's words carefully, but doesn't anyone just react anymore? Say what's on their mind? What they really think? Not what's scripted best?
Call me cynical, but it's a shame when even a head teacher of a primary school has to lower his eyes to a written statement every second line whilst reciting in complete monotone regarding a tragedy.
Someone break the mould.
Next time something of note happens to you, and you're asked for an opinion, say what you really think.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Bringing the noise
You're in a car travelling at the national speed limit on an single carriage way main arterial road that bisects a county somewhere in the northern midlands.
It's mid-afternoon.
Conditions are good; bright sunshine, good visibility, dry, only a slight breeze.
Traffic is fairly light; however you share your 1/2 mile section of the road with an articulated lorry and a few other cars in front of you, all neatly spaced using the two-second rule.
Your car is placed in the centre of your side of the carriageway. The road is straight for the most, although there are frequent hidden dips and blind hill-crests on this section of the road
Suddenly your happy drive is disturbed by the unmistakable two-tone siren, blue flashing lights, strobes and alternate headlight flashes of a police vehicle on an emergency call approaching at a high rate of knots behind you.
In front of you, it appears that other vehicles have taken notice of the emergency vehicle and are responding accordingly.
Do you:
- Maintain your current speed and position
- Maintain your current speed and move your position to the nearside slightly
- Maintain your current speed and move your position to the offside slightly
- Come to a halt, regardless of your location on your side of the carriageway
- Come to a halt on the nearside, in a dip in the road
- Come to a halt on the nearside, on the crest of a hill
- Slow down slightly and indicate in to the nearside, however not stopping
- Consider this a perfect opportunity to overtake the vehicles in front
The 'correct' answer I will reveal in due course. Suffice as to say I saw examples of ALL on the road today, during week three of my police driver training.
*sigh*
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Wombats - Moving to New York
Currently #1 on my mind's daily playlist during otherwise quiet moments of thought...
Thursday, January 24, 2008
A nicer kind of ticky-box
Idle day-off.
Feel free to cut & paste to yours.
I stole this from Rose.
Here goes.
* * * *
Level 1
() Smoked a cigarette
() Smoked a cigar
() Kissed a member of the same sex
(x) Drank alcohol.
Level 2
(x) Are/been in love
(x) Been dumped
(x) Shoplifted
() Been fired
(x) Been in a fist fight
Level 3
(x) Had a crush on an older person
(x) Skipped school
() Slept with a classmate
() Seen someone/something die
Level 4
(x) Had/have a crush on one of your friends who is now on Facebook
(x) Been to Paris
(x) Been to Spain
(x) Been on a plane
(x) Thrown up from drinking
Level 5
(x) Eaten sushi
() Been snowboarding
() Met someone BECAUSE of Facebook
(x) Been in a mosh pit
Level 6
() Been in an abusive relationship
(x) Taken pain killers
(x) Love/loved someone who you can't have
(x) Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
() Made a snow angel
Level 7
(x) Had a tea party
(x) Flown a kite
(x) Built a sand castle
(x) Gone mudding (offroading)
() Played dress up
Level 8
(x) Jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) Gone sledging
(x) Cheated while playing a game
(x) Been lonely
() Fallen asleep at work/school
Level 9
(x) Watched the sun set
() Felt an earthquake
() Killed a snake
Level 10
(x) Been tickled
(x) Been robbed/vandalized
() Been cheated on
(x) Been misunderstood
Level 11
(x) Won a contest
() Been suspended from school
(x)Had detention
() Been in a car/motorcycle accident
Level 12
() Had/have braces
(x) Eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
() Danced in the moonlight
Level 13
(x) Hated the way you look
(x) Witnessed a crime
() Pole danced
(x) Questioned your heart
(x) Been obsessed with post-it-notes
Level 14
(x) Squished barefoot through the mud
(x) Been lost
(x) Been to the opposite side of the world
(x) Swam in the ocean
(x) Felt like you were dying
Level 15
(x) Cried yourself to sleep
(x) Played cops and robbers
() Recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers
() Sang karaoke
() Paid for a meal with only coins
Level 16
(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
() Made prank phone calls
(x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
() Kissed in the rain
Level 17
(x) Written a letter to Santa Claus
() Watched the sun set/sun rise with someone you care/cared about
(x) Blown bubbles
(x) Made a bonfire on the beach or anywhere
Level 18
() Crashed a Party
() Have travelled more than 5 days with a car full of people
(x) Gone rollerskating/blading
(x) Had a wish come true
() Slept with a member of the same sex
Level 19
() Worn pearls
(x) Jumped off a bridge
(x) Screamed "penis" or "vagina"
() Swam with dolphins
Level 20
(x) Got your tongue stuck to a pole/freezer/ice cube
() Kissed a fish
() Worn the opposite sex's clothes
(x) Sat on a roof top
Level 21
(x) Screamed at the top of your lungs
() Done/attempted a one-handed cartwheel
() Talked on the phone for more than six hours (in one day)
(x) Recently stayed up for a while talking to someone you care about
Level 22
() Picked and ate an apple right off the tree
(x) Climbed a tree
(x) Had/been in a tree house
(x) Been scared to watch scary movies alone
Level 23
(x) Believed in ghosts
() Have had more than thirty pairs of shoes (not necessarily all at once)
() Gone streaking
() Visited jail
Level 24
(x) Played chicken
() Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on
(x) Been told you're hot by a complete stranger
() Broken a bone
(x) Been easily amused
Level 25
() Caught a fish then ate it later
() Made a porn video
() Caught a Butterfly
(x) Laughed so hard you cried
(x) Cried so hard you laughed
Level 26
() Mooned/flashed someone
(x) Had someone moon/flash you
(x) Cheated on a test
(x) Forgotten someone's name
() French braided someone’s hair
(x) Gone skinny dipping
() Been kicked out of your house
(x) Tried to hurt yourself
Level 27
(x) Rode a roller coaster
(x) Went scuba-diving/snorkelling
(x) Had a cavity
() Black-mailed someone
() Been black mailed
Level 28
(x) Been used
(x) Fell going up the stairs
() Licked a cat
(x) Bitten someone
(x) Licked someone - not in private places
Level 29
() Been shot at/or at gunpoint
() Had sex in the rain
() Flattened someone’s tires
(x) Rode your car/truck until the gas light came on
() Got five dollars or less worth of gas.
Feel free to cut & paste to yours.
I stole this from Rose.
Here goes.
* * * *
Level 1
() Smoked a cigarette
() Smoked a cigar
() Kissed a member of the same sex
(x) Drank alcohol.
Level 2
(x) Are/been in love
(x) Been dumped
(x) Shoplifted
() Been fired
(x) Been in a fist fight
Level 3
(x) Had a crush on an older person
(x) Skipped school
() Slept with a classmate
() Seen someone/something die
Level 4
(x) Had/have a crush on one of your friends who is now on Facebook
(x) Been to Paris
(x) Been to Spain
(x) Been on a plane
(x) Thrown up from drinking
Level 5
(x) Eaten sushi
() Been snowboarding
() Met someone BECAUSE of Facebook
(x) Been in a mosh pit
Level 6
() Been in an abusive relationship
(x) Taken pain killers
(x) Love/loved someone who you can't have
(x) Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
() Made a snow angel
Level 7
(x) Had a tea party
(x) Flown a kite
(x) Built a sand castle
(x) Gone mudding (offroading)
() Played dress up
Level 8
(x) Jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) Gone sledging
(x) Cheated while playing a game
(x) Been lonely
() Fallen asleep at work/school
Level 9
(x) Watched the sun set
() Felt an earthquake
() Killed a snake
Level 10
(x) Been tickled
(x) Been robbed/vandalized
() Been cheated on
(x) Been misunderstood
Level 11
(x) Won a contest
() Been suspended from school
(x)Had detention
() Been in a car/motorcycle accident
Level 12
() Had/have braces
(x) Eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
() Danced in the moonlight
Level 13
(x) Hated the way you look
(x) Witnessed a crime
() Pole danced
(x) Questioned your heart
(x) Been obsessed with post-it-notes
Level 14
(x) Squished barefoot through the mud
(x) Been lost
(x) Been to the opposite side of the world
(x) Swam in the ocean
(x) Felt like you were dying
Level 15
(x) Cried yourself to sleep
(x) Played cops and robbers
() Recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers
() Sang karaoke
() Paid for a meal with only coins
Level 16
(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
() Made prank phone calls
(x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
() Kissed in the rain
Level 17
(x) Written a letter to Santa Claus
() Watched the sun set/sun rise with someone you care/cared about
(x) Blown bubbles
(x) Made a bonfire on the beach or anywhere
Level 18
() Crashed a Party
() Have travelled more than 5 days with a car full of people
(x) Gone rollerskating/blading
(x) Had a wish come true
() Slept with a member of the same sex
Level 19
() Worn pearls
(x) Jumped off a bridge
(x) Screamed "penis" or "vagina"
() Swam with dolphins
Level 20
(x) Got your tongue stuck to a pole/freezer/ice cube
() Kissed a fish
() Worn the opposite sex's clothes
(x) Sat on a roof top
Level 21
(x) Screamed at the top of your lungs
() Done/attempted a one-handed cartwheel
() Talked on the phone for more than six hours (in one day)
(x) Recently stayed up for a while talking to someone you care about
Level 22
() Picked and ate an apple right off the tree
(x) Climbed a tree
(x) Had/been in a tree house
(x) Been scared to watch scary movies alone
Level 23
(x) Believed in ghosts
() Have had more than thirty pairs of shoes (not necessarily all at once)
() Gone streaking
() Visited jail
Level 24
(x) Played chicken
() Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on
(x) Been told you're hot by a complete stranger
() Broken a bone
(x) Been easily amused
Level 25
() Caught a fish then ate it later
() Made a porn video
() Caught a Butterfly
(x) Laughed so hard you cried
(x) Cried so hard you laughed
Level 26
() Mooned/flashed someone
(x) Had someone moon/flash you
(x) Cheated on a test
(x) Forgotten someone's name
() French braided someone’s hair
(x) Gone skinny dipping
() Been kicked out of your house
(x) Tried to hurt yourself
Level 27
(x) Rode a roller coaster
(x) Went scuba-diving/snorkelling
(x) Had a cavity
() Black-mailed someone
() Been black mailed
Level 28
(x) Been used
(x) Fell going up the stairs
() Licked a cat
(x) Bitten someone
(x) Licked someone - not in private places
Level 29
() Been shot at/or at gunpoint
() Had sex in the rain
() Flattened someone’s tires
(x) Rode your car/truck until the gas light came on
() Got five dollars or less worth of gas.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Highly commendable?
I couldn't make it to London today for the protest march and join some 22,000 colleagues marching on Westminster. However I support my colleagues 100% in getting the government to honour the independent pay award we are due. That's the 2.5% award we should have had in October, when it was due, 12 months after the previous pay award. Not the resulting 1.9% after three months drawn-out negotiation by the government.
I couldn't make it because I wouldn't have been able to get back for an award ceremony this evening which I had been invited to attend by the divisional command team. Unfortunately this had been planned months back, before the pay dispute flared up, but hey-ho.
Tonight I received a Divisional Commander's Commendation Certificate in relation to a serious assault last year, that I responded to with a team of officers. Suffice as to say enquiries resulted in arrests and justice was served.
A comment from a colleague stuck in my head from tonight
"The amount of times the job screws you over y'know, it's nice to get something back."
True.
I've had Newsnight on the TV in the background and they just did the paper-review of the first editions.
"20,000 police officers protesting on the streets" screamed the headline of the Daily Express "where are they when you need them?"
Everywhere.
I couldn't make it because I wouldn't have been able to get back for an award ceremony this evening which I had been invited to attend by the divisional command team. Unfortunately this had been planned months back, before the pay dispute flared up, but hey-ho.
Tonight I received a Divisional Commander's Commendation Certificate in relation to a serious assault last year, that I responded to with a team of officers. Suffice as to say enquiries resulted in arrests and justice was served.
A comment from a colleague stuck in my head from tonight
"The amount of times the job screws you over y'know, it's nice to get something back."
True.
I've had Newsnight on the TV in the background and they just did the paper-review of the first editions.
"20,000 police officers protesting on the streets" screamed the headline of the Daily Express "where are they when you need them?"
Everywhere.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Two-thousand-zero-eight
Party over?
Oops!
Out of time.
[The other night I partied] like it was two-thousand-and-eight.
(With thanks to Prince)
Christmas was...
Different.
It comes with the territory that as an emergency service worker, chances are you're going to be working whist others are out having fun, sleeping, eating etc...
I worked Christmas Eve and Christmas Day nights for my sins, coming off-shift into Boxing Day morning.
Christmas Eve was ridiculously busy. Very little goodwill on the streets to men or women really. Fights going off all over the place and a colleague accidentally gave me a facefull of CS-spray during a scuffle.
Lovely stuff.
Christmas Day night was thankfully very quiet indeed and most of us disregarded the mounds of paperwork, patrolling and chilled out for a change. We all brought in food to nibble and had a bit of an impromptu buffet in the station. I'd slept most of the day before that, I was home alone and to be honest if I hadn't have watched the Doctor Who christmas special I wouldn't have noticed it was Christmas at all! So to have some sort of festivity later on was nice and heart-warming.
Boxing day, early hours, I drove up to the parents in East Yorkshire. Presented myself about 09:00hrs, chatted over a cup of tea for about a half-hour before collapsing into bed. Woke up around 16:00 and helped the family get snacks & drinks together for the 'clan' get-together at our place a few hours later. After much chat, food, drinks, Jenga and board games I once again collapsed into bed.
27th - Relaxed. Did very little. Perfect.
28th - Mother & I hit the sales. Bought very little really apart from a new colour printer, and even that was from a Tesco Extra!
29th - I hung out with friends back Yorkshire-way who I hadn't seen for ages. All good fun, good company.
30th - Unfortunately it was back to work. Drat.
New Year's Eve, as luck would have it, I was on earlies. This meant that even with extended workign hours this allowed me to finish at 18:00 and still have time to drive down to see girlfriend and celebrate with her. Along with her lad we went round to some friends of hers for chat, drinks and board games for the evening. A good night was had by all. I was awoken at around 01:30 by the girlfriend as I'd fallen asleep on the hosts' sofa. They did however cut me some slack when it was pointed out that I'd been up since 05:00 the previous morning.
New Year's Day - Back to work at 15:00, however still plenty of time to sleep off the hangover and drive up back to work.
How did you celebrate yours?
Oops!
Out of time.
[The other night I partied] like it was two-thousand-and-eight.
(With thanks to Prince)
Christmas was...
Different.
It comes with the territory that as an emergency service worker, chances are you're going to be working whist others are out having fun, sleeping, eating etc...
I worked Christmas Eve and Christmas Day nights for my sins, coming off-shift into Boxing Day morning.
Christmas Eve was ridiculously busy. Very little goodwill on the streets to men or women really. Fights going off all over the place and a colleague accidentally gave me a facefull of CS-spray during a scuffle.
Lovely stuff.
Christmas Day night was thankfully very quiet indeed and most of us disregarded the mounds of paperwork, patrolling and chilled out for a change. We all brought in food to nibble and had a bit of an impromptu buffet in the station. I'd slept most of the day before that, I was home alone and to be honest if I hadn't have watched the Doctor Who christmas special I wouldn't have noticed it was Christmas at all! So to have some sort of festivity later on was nice and heart-warming.
Boxing day, early hours, I drove up to the parents in East Yorkshire. Presented myself about 09:00hrs, chatted over a cup of tea for about a half-hour before collapsing into bed. Woke up around 16:00 and helped the family get snacks & drinks together for the 'clan' get-together at our place a few hours later. After much chat, food, drinks, Jenga and board games I once again collapsed into bed.
27th - Relaxed. Did very little. Perfect.
28th - Mother & I hit the sales. Bought very little really apart from a new colour printer, and even that was from a Tesco Extra!
29th - I hung out with friends back Yorkshire-way who I hadn't seen for ages. All good fun, good company.
30th - Unfortunately it was back to work. Drat.
New Year's Eve, as luck would have it, I was on earlies. This meant that even with extended workign hours this allowed me to finish at 18:00 and still have time to drive down to see girlfriend and celebrate with her. Along with her lad we went round to some friends of hers for chat, drinks and board games for the evening. A good night was had by all. I was awoken at around 01:30 by the girlfriend as I'd fallen asleep on the hosts' sofa. They did however cut me some slack when it was pointed out that I'd been up since 05:00 the previous morning.
New Year's Day - Back to work at 15:00, however still plenty of time to sleep off the hangover and drive up back to work.
How did you celebrate yours?
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