Archives for category: Dining Out

I didn’t have the steak after all, but I did enjoy a wonderful duck liver parfait (patè to the rest of us) and a gourmet burger from their special fixed price menu for £11. Three courses – if only I’d had the room for them – are £15, and at that quality you really cannot complain about the prices. Wander from the fixed prices and of course things go up dramatically, but the quality is a constant so the choice is yours. The sea-bass looked, and I’m told tasted, incredible. Without doubt, it was a delight and will most certainly be receiving a return visit.

There were tales of daring-do and stories of shaggy dogs and memoirs of recent events, all of which were most entertaining. Senior Ball received a couple of gifts in advance of his birthday and was suitably pleased with them.

Sister Ball has a new – I hesitate to use the word car – in fact, I hesitate to use the word Rollerskate. What is the word I’m looking for. Something very tiny with wheels…. It’s a Smart car. You know, those ones that look like the were going to be a real car and the they got fed up after drawing the driver and passenger seats so just didn’t draw any more. In fairness to describe it that way, while accurate is to do it a dis-service. In actuality it is a very cute and practical town car. There’s no road tax to pay, has an automatic gearbox and a surprisingly large amount of storage for something that looks like it has none. At £10k for a brand new one with all the whistles and bells it seems like a very “sensible” acquisition. Whatever next!?

She was in fine form and is off to America for some work shortly. Senior Ball is in the market for a new laptop and after much discussion and contributions for his birthday, Christmas, next two birthdays and four Christmases after that it appears that he’s going to invest in a MacBook Air. And thank god for that says I. Sister Ball has been tasked with picking one up while she’s in the US, not least because the £850 that they cost here becomes £620 over there.

After lunch it was back to the ponderosa for a cuppa before they all headed off and Mrs G and I had half an hour to put our feet up and recover. It was short lived though an four or five hours later I was putting the finishing touches to a pack of materials that I’ve built in preparation for our Monday review. Still waiting from some input from our most recently re-assigned member of the team, so I’m entirely expecting to have more to do later today. I can’t wait.

Was very glad of the extra hour in bed this morning, but body clocks don’t adjust instantly, so I was Awake at 6am which is now 7. John Le Carrè meant I didn’t actually get out of bed until 8.30 though. Daughter was equally glad of it because she and her friends had an extra hour clubbing last night – but then she’s in need of the recovery time too I suspect. A difficult balance to find.

Today’s plan involves visiting the brown’s to help them understand the nuances (because it’s certainly not complicated) of migrating from their trudging PC environment onto their newly arrived iMac. They’re always fun to see and their two year old is a riot, so an entertaining time awaits.

So on that note, it’s time I knocked up some breakfast and got my life in gear again. Depending on egg supplies I’m thinking “the full English” but I might have to play hunter-gatherer first.

Until next time. Stay safe.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Dad, Dining Out, Family

Looking forward…

I can feel the knot of the noose tightening. The pressure is ramping up a little now. We spent time in the company of senior exec’s yesterday, which can often be un-nerving (see Dilbert for further details on how this usually works) .

We’re still striving to fit 3 weeks worth of work into a week – and that’s not working out to well obviously. And of course we’re somewhat hampered by the fact that it’s half-bloody-term. It’s annoying that it’s occupying most of my waking hours, but it’s what I do until I do something else.

Mrs G has a cold which has spoilt her plans for Friday. She was going to see our friend S who’s battling with the big C. Unfortunately as I’m sure you’re aware, chemotherapy messes with your immune system, making it weak, and the patient susceptible to viruses and diseases. The last thing S needs at this point of her treatment is a cold, and so it’s with sad hearts that they’re not going to get together on Mrs G’s day off. Here’s hoping the treatment pays off and S can get back to being the great gran, mum, wife and friend that she is. 

Daughter is weary and tired.  She’s not had a day off for the best part of two weeks and it’s starting to show. She needs a break the poor lamb, but she’s got a few days at the weekend that she’s looking forward to. I believe she’s even got a night out with the girls planned. Bless her. 

We’ve got a bit of a get together on Saturday planned too. It’s that time of year again when it’s Mr Ball senior’s birthday, so we’re all going for a bit of a lunchtime nosh up in a countryshire public house. Sister Ball is coming down from “that Manchester” and even the  in-laws are going to join us. Should be a giggle and even if you can’t chose your family – it’s fair to say that we’re very lucky to have family that aren’t just bearable, but are actually fun to be with so it’s something to look forward to. Still got to get the elder ball’s birthday present yet though. 

Well – no chance of me getting to 750 words today – far too much todo..

Pooh’s on the phone, so I’d best get on with it. Stay safe. 


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Birthday, Dad, Daughter, Dining Out, Mrs G, Starfleet

Stuffed & Mounted

Of course with a title such as the one above, the regular reader might think I was about to refer to the neliphunt that Pooh and I have caught.  Read on…

Oh, Em and might I even venture, Gee – to use the vernacular.  I was doing fine wandering between the various stalls, laden with delights from all across the country. The odd dipp of an oil, or the snippet of some cheese. A square of chocolate, a snifter of vodka and so on and so forth. And then we espied the Cider and the Sausages…..

Actually, in truth we skipped the cider. We were after all “on our bikes” and thus in charge of a vehicle on her majesty’s highway – and besides, we’d already been at the vodka…. and the brandy…  But the sausages in a bap – I should have walked away.  I should have mustered up the strength to say “No thankyou” but it wasn’t to be.  

Sausage

“Two of those tasty looking things please!” I was heard to say.  A nice perch on the fake lawn and 30 minutes later I was quite literally “Stuffed”.  All that remained to be done was clamber aboard our trusty steeds and cycle home – thus “Mounted”.

See what I did there?

…and on the way we had to pass Gloucester’s latest piece of Street Sculpture, which appears to be some sort of tower, not too dissimilar to the rusty needle that they’ve already built, but this time without rust…  and a bit fatter…  I wonder what it “means” ?

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Happy Days.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Dining Out, Gloucester, Mrs G

Torn and bloodied from the fight….

….I find myself absolutely shattered. I’ve spent all afternoon wrestling and scrapping with the dreaded beast but to no avail. I’ve been unable to best it alone. In the end I needed a helping hand from pooh to finally put it to rest. It seems that my laptop just isn’t powerful enough to import the final element into such a large cost case. Bloody software.

By the end of the day the weather was turning too and rather than a nice bright evening that we’ve been experiencing of late, it became dark and over cast and made any further painting in the kitchen impossible. You can’t paint in electric light – Essex fact.

Daughter was baby sitting for Auntie S, Mrs G had corrie’s to catch up with. I had a wealth of reading list to work through. As a special treat we availed burger star of a take away for dinner. It’s not right, but I can justify it with the inordinate amount of cycling we’ve been doing of late, the condition of the kitchen and the overwhelming evidence that it is ‘not McDonald’s’ and is made from very fresh ingredients. It was lush in a very naughty way.

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Today sees me having to make a trip to the dentists. A filling. Nothing serious, just my contribution to his yacht fund I’m sure.

I’m hoping for a quieter day today, and if time permits I may try and jot down my thoughts on Google+. I’m particularly surprised at the number of tech heads who are leaving Facebook and twitter in their droves it would seem. I’m already hearing reports of several million new users to G+ in this week alone… And it’s only Tuesday!

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Have a great day.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous

Categories Daughter, Dining Out, DIY, Facebook, Mrs G, Twitter

Toasted Wheels

That was unexpected. Not at all part of the plan.

Saturday rolled around and Mrs G and I cycled to town to do a couple of little jobs. It was a beautifully warm day and no sign of any rain. By lunch time we were both starving and so took a trip out the far side of the city to a new-ish place in the docks… “On Toast”. You’ll never guess what their main food line is of course, but it is the only one of it’s kind in the country and is the home of the “Mars Bar on Toast”.

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I briefly considered it and then plumped for the “Hawaiian” which is actually a Ham & Pineapple toasted sandwich. Mrs G had the Canadian which is Brie & Cranberry by mistake. The owner misheard the order and graciously replaced it with Brie & Bacon on his second attempt. Free refills on the coffee and a great seat looking over the docks makes this the perfect little snack shack and I have no doubt when they launch it as a franchise it’ll crop up everywhere and be gratefully received.

On the way home I suggested a quick look in “Go Outdoors” which is like B&Q for out-doorsy people. Tents, Boots, coats, rucksacks, fishing gear, climbing gear and bikes to name just a handful of their offerings. What I wasn’t expecting to do was buy another bike, but that’s what happened.

You may recall that I bought a couple of bikes a few months ago, one for Mrs G and one for myself. Now somehow or other daughter has pretty much commandeered Mrs G’s wheels and so Mrs G often either takes mine or ends up walking. Well, this just won’t do really, so now she has her own – or will do once it’s ready – and very pleased about that she is too.

Sunday has seen a visitation from cousin P with G, K and little A (or Boo as she’s referred to). Daughter has become her new best friend, which was very funny and very cute, unlike Barney who is clearly no longer a child friendly cat. He is “of an age” and doesn’t enjoy being prodded or poked any more.

Granny and W joined us all for lunch and Granny had planned to be home in time for the Wimbledon Men’s Final. She likes a good natter, almost as much as she likes tennis (although there is nothing, and I mean nothing that she loves as much as tennis). He nattering resulted in her not leaving in time and having to suffer the glory of the Final in Full HD. She was very comfortable with it and we were all (except Mrs G – who physically detests the game) happy with the result. Well done Djokovic. Nice job.

There were a couple of emails but nothing too demanding, so the work situation is definitely on the wain. Monday sees me handing back the tennis related job (which I’d barely started, but this is the way of resource management) and trying – and failing – to reduce our costs for Pooh and I’s big adventure.

Fun times.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Daughter, Dining Out, Family, Mrs G, Sport

Midweek Madness

Finally made it as far as Wednesday, and to be honest I’m feeling worn out already. It’s been hectic in the wake of the Badman and I’s recent bout of sitting in a tree and waiting.

Monday night found me whizzing off in the roller skate to Kate Middleton’s educational hometown of Marlborough.  Needless to say she wasn’t about, but good old Johnnie was along with A (who’s father-in-law has passed on, and we will be visiting with next week for the funeral – just as an aside, there’s been alot of that about lately, and here’s hoping that we’ve seen the end of it for a while).

So having spent sometime with Mrs H and the kids, including a particularly enjoyable bedtime story in the form of Mr Mischief, we headed off to a local curry house in the middle of nowhere.

The Palm Indian Restaurant is an excellent eatery, and highly recommended should you find yourself “out in the sticks” and in need of sustenance.

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We ate and caught up with the general goings on which when all is said and done made for a superb way to spend an evening. Clearly something we don’t do often enough, but then if we did it all the time, I suspect we’d appreciate it far less. We rounded off the evening with a quick beer and a game of “Heads or Tails” (far more complicated than it sounds) in “The Lamb Inn” on the parade in Marlborough.

Tuesday had the badman and I meeting up at my hollowed out volcano.  As we’ve been playing the role of a sleeper cell so well for the last week or so, it was long overdue that he should get the grand tour of our armaments and in particular the sentinent rabbits that patrol the grounds on the look out for agents trying to infiltrate the base and gain knowledge of the grand schemes within. He’d passed the background security checks, and was blindfolded for the last leg of his journey to the hidden base, so luckily he still doesn’t know exactly where it is.

He also had to get his Bike serviced at a local garage, so it made perfect sense. 

We got some good work done and had a bite to eat down at the docks before returning to the lair and planning an assault on a local Starfleet office on Wednesday.

In point of fact, the Wednesday trip was all about our Mid-year reviews with our soon-to-be-retired manager. I for one will miss him, just because in the short time I’ve worked with him, he’s helped me through one of the toughest times I’ve had since joining the Starfleet crew.  I’m not going to go on about it – you can get snippets of it from elsewhere in the blog – but he’s been a most helpful rock, along with the badman. Without them I’m pretty certain I would have lost all faith in the exploration of deep space and probably have beamed down to an isolated planet to be consumed by tribbles (and troubles no doubt).  As a result of their efforts my eyes have been opened to the wider, more useful and appreciated elements of Starfleet and as such I’m no happy to be here.  

The review went well, and past pain is all but forgotten. I feel I can’t let this moment pass completely without giving a nod of thanks towards Stretch as well, for it was he who pointed out the need for the role that I now fulfil. As such I owe him more than just a couple of beers of thanks…. possibly as as many as three and a half.

But he can save them up for the next time our paths cross. They won’t be forgotten.

In the evening, being in such a good mood as a result of the review I decided to treat Mrs G and Daughter to a visit to one of our local eateries for a spot of dining out.  A “trip to the teddy” actually means we’ll go to the King Edward the VIII public house for a bite to eat and a go at the quiz.  Food was poor as was the quiz, but we didn’t care. We have eachother and so a good time was had by the three of us.  Good times.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Badman, Beer, Dining Out, Gloucester, Socialising, Starfleet, Stretch, Wiltshire

Breathing

All in all the examination of the blue prints for the new engine requiring dilithium crystals seems to have gone relatively well so far. I use the word “relatively” in it’s truest sense of the word. It really is all relative. Given the circumstances.

In the last 4 or 5 months my entire working knowledge of a business that I’ve grown to know and hate has been turned completely on it’s head. Things that had no bearing on my work, now do, and things that did now don’t… If you follow, which to be fair, unless you’re one of a very small number of professionals, you almost certainly don’t. Some of the star fleet crew might get it, but I am being deliberately vague to protect the innocent. Take this week for example. Now I was fully aware that these things happened, but until I’d been involved in them, I really didn’t have an understanding of what they actually do (as opposed to what I believed they do). The single most useful piece of learning I have from the last 12 months is a snippet from Scobi. In a nutshell: “Keep breathing, Don’t die”

Monday was an all day review of the whole blueprint from our planetary system with everyone who had anything to add to it in the first instance, along with a few that poked holes in it to see if they got bigger or smaller and generally tested the stitching.

Tuesday was a mad dash to update all the critical elements of the blueprint and get them into some formats that can be relatively (there’s that word again-Ed) easily shared with and understood by some of the other crew members.

Today started at silly o’clock (which is slightly later than stupid o’clock) and involved a certain amount of deck chair re-arrangement, tuning of the band and communication of understandings. This was followed by a journey to a local-ish outpost and a meet up with a couple of star fleet crew in the form of the badman and the artist. The badman has been slowly wearing himself out in the name of dilithium and is doing a great job of it. I’m trying not to hinder him and giving whatever support I can now that I’m allowed to get my hands dirty. The plan here is two fold. A) Not wear out the badman because there’s more to do still, so help shoulder a little weight if possible and B) Learn from what he’s doing so that at some point in the future I might be able to do the same. Right now B) seems like a pipe dream…. but it’s only been a week. As for A), I think I’m helping… but today I suggested the re-instatement of an age old tradition that has been long neglected over the past 5 years and that most definitely was well deserved and overdue for my erstwhile colleague. Namely a pub lunch. Why they ever stopped I don’t know. It’s as if they cleared off with the smoking ban, but regardless, while they may be a rarity, I reckon that the mere act of walking out of the building probably helped more than anything else. Sometimes you just have to stop.
Take a breath.
Look around.
Take a deeper breath.
Feel re-invigorated. Tomorrow will be more documentation preparation, further sharing of understandings, more furniture reorganisation and ice berg awareness sessions. The icing on the preverbal cake will be breakfast though. 🙂 🙂

More on that tomorrow.
Sleep well, breath deeply.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Badman, Dining Out, Starfleet

In pursuit of the commute

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Why am I doing this? Can someone remind me again please.

It was lovely to have had Friday off. The wedding went with but one hitch and that was the one that was supposed to happen so all is well on that front. It didn’t rain while we were outside, the kids that were present screamed in the appropriate parts of the service, the women all cried, the speeches were short (almost to the point of non-existent), the bridesmaids were gorgeous (not that I’m biased) and there was dad dancing. The dad dancing wasn’t from me due to the back strain, but ordinarily would have been.
In summary a very British wedding and not a sniff of royalty in sight.

Saturday was to have been Alleycats golf, but I very wisely rested instead, despite the peer pressure, and as a result the pain has eased. Although not fully recovered it’s well on it’s way and I have no doubt that as long as I’m careful this week it’ll be back (no pun intended – or existing) to normal very soon.
Keen to find out why Shep looks so miserable about the whole thing, especially as he has new golf clubs. 🙂

Sunday was all about birthday lunch with Mother-in-law. Always a pleasure, never a chore. General topic of discussion was what a terrible start to the year we’ve all been having. In truth it can only better, although on a couple of issues it most certainly will get worse. Personally I’m trying to stay away from hospitals, but that isn’t the case for some of the more frail members of the clan. Our thoughts are with them all.

Lunch was wonderful though. Rounded the day off with daughter and Mrs G on the sofa, a glass of red wine and dancing on ice. Not normally something I’d bother with, but they love it and it does have a smidgen of entertainment about it.

Now we have arrived at Monday morning. Back down to London for a 10am meeting. While 10am might seem like a leisurely start to the day (and when working from home it most certainly is) the logistics involved mean it’s actually quite a challenge.

Alarm goes off at 5.45 giving me 20 minutes to get up and out the door. 30 minutes to walk to the station and a massive 10 minutes spare to get coffee and settled before the 6.45 departure. Arrives at London Paddington at 8.45 and it then takes a further 40 minutes (if all goes to plan) to get into the city proper on the tube which leaves me 35 minutes to make the 10 minute walk to the office and into the 10am meeting. Perfect.

Today however, I’ve been sat on the train at the station since 6.55 as it was late arriving. It’s now 7.18 and we’re just pulling out of the station so my 25 minutes of spare time has gone before I’ve even started. Unless the time is made up en route I will be late. Awesome start to the week.

The long list of reasons start with the speedometer not working, the central door locking not working and then some unspecified engine problem which had to be attended to by engineers. This doesn’t bode well for the rest of the journey. There’s also no hot food or sandwiches on board (as if I care!)

I also take the precaution of reserving a seat when I pre-book my ticket. I like to be forward facing at a table, just in case I fancy joining laptop club and preferably by the window. This is just for my comfort and is not essential. However, to really wind me up, why not accept the booking without comment and plonk me in an aisle seat, rear facing without a table…. Is it really that difficult ? I can see the table with no-one sat at it from here!

Ah well, at least I can feel self assured that we get value for money in rail travel in the UK. D’oh!!!


This post originally appeared here: Posterous
Categories Birthday, Coffee, Daughter, Dining Out, Family, Golf, Home Working, Mrs G, Public Transport, The Lads, Weddings, Weekend

And the winner is….

This evening sees the end, at least for another 9 months, of the terror that is the X-Factor. And thank heaven for that. So it’s not my honour, but perhaps my relief to announce the winner here and now, live on my blog so you can all get out and put a bet on to help top up your Christmas fund and not have to waste another two hours of your life sat in front of the telly. You won’t get that time back you know. Having said that the odds will be awful, so save your cash. Without further ado…
IT’S TIME…..
TO FACE…..
THE MUSIC!!
Really? Must we?… It’s like a sticking plaster on a hairy leg. Rip it off quick and the pain is harsh, but at least it’s short. In first place…. Simon “flat top blockhead high trousered v-neck t-shirted” Cowell.
You’ve got to hand it to him. This bloke is supposed to find new musical talent and get them noticed. That’s his job. What he’s done is turn his job into a TV show that makes millions.
Instead of him shuffling around the pubs and clubs of britain listening to acts in the hope of finding the next ‘big thing’ he’s convinced the acts to come to him. He’s let ITV film the entire process and persuaded the public that it’s not him deciding who is best, but them. Of course, if the public decide whose a good act, he has an instant popular artist before they’ve recorded a single track, or even signed a deal. The public are even paying to make the decision. Not only that but all the advertising for his new musical talent has been taken care of during the 3 month selection process. He’s now getting paid twice (at least) for just doing his job. Why don’t we all do this?
Well, the short answer is because it wouldn’t make very good television. But the long answer is, most of it’s already been done.
Take the two estate agents (Kirsty Conservative & Phil Tallchap) from ‘Location, location, location’ This is only ‘good’ (to use the term loosely) television because as a nation of nosey sods we get to look around other peoples houses, but again they are only doing their job of buying and selling houses.
There are countless (because I really can’t be arsed to count them all) TV chefs who instead of cooking food in restaurants, cook food on TV because the cameras are in their restaurants who are also busy getting paid twice. And with every TV series a chef does, a cookbook is sure to follow.
The book of the film of the t-shirt of the ashtray, of idea someone scratched on the back of an envelope while doing their day job and not actually working. In fact daytime TV seems to exist for these people along with Quincy (M.E.) and yet more Midsummer Murders. I know this because I looked at the schedules earlier in the week when writing about the revolting students… Sorry, I mean that the students that were revolting… Erm… Oh you know what I mean.
David Orange Dickinson the antiques dealer, more estate agents in ‘Homes under the hammer’ and a professional bear baiter – oops, I mean social worker, known as Jeremy Kyle. Its never ending, but the evil that is Cowell is most certainly thier king.
How do we get rid of him? We can’t vote him off. Or can we? There’s an Internet campaign to get “The Bird” (Have you heard the word about the bird?) to number one in the charts for Christmas so that Simon’s choice doesn’t. Well that must say something to the TV companies about how we feel about him?

The other things you should do… Dont vote on the show, never buy any music by any artist appearing on the show, or better yet, just stop watching. I know it’s difficult because we’re all so damn nosey, but you won’t die and you might actually learn something about real music. The next big problem is America. I’m sure I got this from wikileaks…

Just thank god we don’t live in the USA where the poor population are going to have the same… (I wanted to say television, but that would be unfair to John Logi Baird) …marketing machine foisted upon them. I’m off for Christmas lunch with me gran and the rest of the Wiltshire clan.
Enjoy your foggy Sunday and don’t watch the XFactor. Switch over and watch…. Oh god…. Really??? Strictly ???
Switch off the TV and go to the pub to drown your sorrows.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous

Categories Dining Out, Music, TV

To Humbug or not to Humbug.

Once more into the breach dear friends, once more. Thankyou Mr Shakespeare for coming up with the perfect phrase to describe how I feel about my imminent bout of Christmas shopping.
It’s that time of year and I suppose this weekend more than most is likely to be THE weekend of madness in shopping centres up and down the land. We’ve selected Cabot Circus in Bristol, as our retail outlet of choice this year, generally because it provides such an enjoyable experience. It’s easy to get to, usually with plentiful parking and is mostly undercover from the elements while leaving you with the feeling of being outside thanks to hit huge open spaces and interesting glass roof structures. There’s also two stores in particular that make it a worthwhile trip.
The downside however, will no doubt be the fact that the world and his wife will be out doing the same thing. Not only that, but they’ll have brought the kids, grandparents and family pets along with them too. I can’t wait… to get back home, and we haven’t even left yet.
Last night was a far more enjoyable experience. Mrs G had her Christmas dinner with work to attend. It was held in a quite posh hotel ‘up the hill’ in one of the villages. A pleasant spot. Son has his ‘Xmas Works Outing’ coming soon and of course Daughter hosts hundreds of them at the pub she works in when she’s not specialing.
My Xmas Works Outing is a much wilder affair. I work from home and while to many this may seem a sad and lonely existence, I’ve enjoyed it very much for the past 15 years or so (on and off). I had a bout of living in London and the US for a few years, but I recovered eventually. What this all means though, is that I don’t really get a ‘Christmas do’. It would be nice to catch up with colleagues both old and new and quaff a few pints to wash down a turkey dinner with all the trimmings and in days gone by that would most definitely have been the case, but the past 5 years have seen a change in attitudes towards such goings on.
In fact all forms of frivolity in the work place seem to be frowned upon. You can’t enjoy work anymore. The Health & Safety brigade along with the Political Correctors seem to have sucked all the fun out of working life and the bean counters have topped it off by going all ‘Scrooge’ on the employee entertainment and morale front. If your lucky, you might get a cold turkey sandwich in the canteen during December and they’ll probably still be hanging around in January too.
I’m not suggesting we should go back to the 70’s, 80s & 90s when it was quite normal for colleagues to be sleeping the effects of the office party off, at the office or to caught up to no good in the stationary cupboard. But at least people had fun. Now everyones too scared to appear to let their guard down in front of their boss for fear of future repercussions. It’s very very sad.
Being on my own in the office means I don’t have any of those trappings to hinder me. I also can’t get caught up to no good in the stationary cupboard, which I suppose is just as well. I can get completely slozzled without fear of looking stupid in front of the boss and I can sleep it off at my desk should I so choose (it’s in what would have been bedroom number 4 if I hadn’t used it as an office anyway). To this end, last night was my Christmas do although the company neglected to pay for it which is a great shame.
The only other human that’s around when I’m in the office is daughter so she and I went to a pleasant little pub up the road for a slap up nosh fest. The place was packed with people having their Christmas do’s all doing their best not to look like idiots in front of their bosses and all eating the same unappetising Christmas dinner. Each had a paper hat and bad cracker jokes.
I on the other hand, had a reasonable steak and ale pie (daughter had a reasonable steak) and the pleasure of her company. Far more enjoyable than any of the uncomfortable looking herberts pretending to be having fun. If only Starfleet had been footing the bill, it would have been a Christmas do to remember. Instead it was an enjoyable evening with Daughter.
I haven’t lost all hope. I actually love Christmas. Not so much the shopping and presents for presents sake side of it. Not the over commercialisation of it. But next year with a new role it’s entirely possible there could be a sociable set of people who aren’t over the top with the PC crowd, but I wont count my chickens just yet….
And now I must imitate the action of the Tiger, stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint Nicholas’ – Merry bleeding Christmas.


This post originally appeared here: Posterous

Categories 1970's, 1980's, 1990's, Daughter, Dining Out, Drinking, Home Working, How it used to be, Mrs G, Shakespear, Son, Starfleet