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...
Monday, April 28, 2008
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.
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