Saturday, September 30, 2006
Just back from holidays in the sun - this here is one of the many pictures I took. The holiday books I read while lazing by the pool, on the beach and standed at a train station in the back of beyond after being (almost) chased by bulls through a field, dodging traffic on a motorway and getting heat-stroke were as follows. In the order I read them, they were: Piers Morgan - The Insider (tabloid tittle-tattle, great fun); Paul Carter - Don't Tell Mum I Work On The Rigs, She Thinks I'm a Piano Player in a Whore House (derring-do adventures of a bloke who worked on the oil rigs); Jancee Dunn -But Enough About me (ex-Rolling Stone magazine journo and MTV veejay memoirs); Patrick Hamilton - Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky (this was really three books in one, saw it first on BBC3 and loved it to bits, the book of course was even better than the telly adaptation); Nicholas Evans - The Divide (I live in hope he'll write something as good as his first novel, The Horse Whisperer. So far, he hasn't); J K Rowling - Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince (still reading in progress, so far it feels a bit samey-same as the others).
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Having a haircut is always fraught when you've got hair as thick as mine. Will I come out looking like Nora Batty (again) or a young Sophia Loren?. Your guess is as good as mine. It's the stylist's decision. I just hope she makes the right one.
I can add another celebrity to my celeb-spotting world as yesterday I walked past Christopher Biggins on Tottenham Court Road. Surprised to see he's quite a big fella, tall and broad. Much bigger than he looks on the telly. I remember him best for his stint in the Rocky Horror Picture Show film but he's probably done loads of proper stuff since then.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
I love gardening and I love my shed. Inside it are the following items: a bike, lawnmower, strimmer, bags of compost and manure, an old milk bottle crate filled with flower bulbs wrapped in newspaper. There's also all kinds of - I don't know - stuff, in the shed. Things that have been there for years. Things that smell odd. Dead mice. An empty wasp nest.
Read a really interesting snippet in The Guardian - my paper of choice during the week. At weekends I read The Observer (usually up its own arse), The Independent (ditto but not as much) and The Mirror (gossip, scandal, tabloid tales). Anyway, this interesting snippet revealed the truth about The Green Door from the song taken to the charts by Shakin' Stevens and Frankie Vaughen. Turns out the green door featured in the film The Killing of Sister George and in real life was the entry door to one of London's first lesbian clubs - the Gateways. So the song is about a man trying to gain entry to the club via the green door, and of course he's refused. I love that sort of trivia, me. Yes, this picture is of a green door but is totally unconnected to the song, I just liked it.
Number 12 in a series of 406 of Things I Don't Understand. Wearing scarves with t-shirts, what's that all about? If you're cold enough to wear a scarf - well, put a cardi on and if you're warm enough to wear a t-shirt, you don't need the scarf.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Went to see Volver at the flicks this week. Am I the only person who still says flicks? Volver. It's the sort of film you can't stop thinking about at work the day after you've seen it. It's the sort of film you want to see again. The only word in Spanish I know is "hola" and "cerveza". Oh hang on, that's two words. Never mind. For the first time ever, I lost myself in a Spanish language film and ditched reading the sub-titles at one point just to listen to the language, watch the colours, the acting, the movement of it all.
Harvest time in the garden today, picked loads of crunchy green apples and ruby red tomatoes. What to do with 'em all? Take the apples to work tomorrow to share among colleagues. Delia Smith the toms into a soup with some of Nigel Slater's fab Foccacia this weekend, followed by apple crumble and ice-cream. Oh yum.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Wanting to own hand-made Venetian glass jewelry is one thing. Being able to afford it is another. At the risk of sounding like my blog’s commercial break I want to mention this fantastic glass jewelry – and it doesn’t cost a fortune. I’ve got some of these pieces already and whenever I wear the necklace or earrings, I always get compliments and I’ve passed on her details to so many people that I thought I’d put details on my blog to share the lurve. Have a look at the Hearts and Crosses website and treat yourself nicely.
There are high profile campaigns to kick out racism in football and more recently, a new campaign to kick out homophobia. Well, that’s ethnic minorities and gay men considered. But what about women? Where’s the campaign to kick out sexism in football? Sunderland AFC boast the highest proportion of female season ticket holders - maybe SAFC club mascot Delilah could champion the cause? What’s that? It’s all good, clean fun, you say? Try standing in a footy crowd at one of the many clubs that have “cheer-leaders” at half time, twirling and smiling and just hear the very nasty, sexually abusive comments hurled by the blokes in the crowd to the girls on the pitch. Sky TV know they have a winner of a programme in Soccer AM but should lose the anachronistic and sexist Soccerette spot. Either get rid of the Soccerettes or get one that’s got something to say for herself, someone who shows more personality than leg. And why are there never any female footy fans in the studio? Why are they all lardy lads?
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Pauline Quirke was interviewed on Soccer AM today. (I love Soccer AM but have to turn it over when the Soccerette comes on, it's too cringing for words. Girls - get a life, for gawd's sake! And why do they always look the same, week in, week out?). I've been a fan of Pauline's ever since she hosted Pauline's Quirkes on telly when I was a kid. And she had Flintlock as house band (the 70s answer to Take That?). Second thing on telly today which put a smile on my face was hearing one of my favourite songs used in an advert. Using famous songs in adverts is not always A Good Thing, especially when it's your musical hero and you feel they've sold out (you have, David Bowie). But when it's the Patsy Cline classic Walking After Midnight, and even if it is for a French beer that I don't like and never buy, it was still good to hear it on telly.
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