To day the last day of May 2007, summer arrived with a clear blue sky and sufficiently warmth to sit on a bench overlooking the mouth of the river Tyne, wearing a light sleeveless jacket over a shirt. I then walked through the first two parks before taking an oblong route back via Azda where I could not resist three packs of baguettes/rolls for £1.
Having retired to bed at around 1.30-2am I woke before nine feeling very refreshed and relaxed after the excitements of the previous three days, the part week in Scotland, and the disturbed and unsettled experiences of the previous five months. Hopefully there is to be a more balanced working summer although if the pattern of last year is followed the work level will be adjusted for the time given to the outdoors.
Before going out I completed the monster volume on the Dutch experience some 8 card sets in one 100 pocket soft cover of mementos from the 1986 visit of one week to Zeewolde at Flevoland. I consumed the small baguettes divided to make four half slit rolls filled with a little lettuce and prawns, with the fourth some fine cut ham, and without margarine. I watched for the second time within the space of a year the Steel Fleet, a tale of courage and sacrifice as the boss of a shipbuilding yard in Holland appears to first colludes in the hijacking of a completed submarine and then goes down with the next, taking with him the Nazi High Command including the Dutch Administrator played by Valentine Dyall, in the most desperate of circumstances with his wife, played by Googie Withers, believing that he is not only a collaborator but a murderer of a patriot. An uplifting film but with a theme which is explored in every aspect in the TV series, the Secret Army.
The walk and the subsequent lunch, the inevitable siesta set the pattern for the day. I am still digesting two meal experiences. The first was a collective Chinese extravaganza where all the dishes were demolished and the bill was a pleasant surprise around £15 a head including and average of three drinks. The second introduced me to a new fish, a bream, which was a delicious new taste but not worth the doubling of the per head price, especially as the coffee was cold. Tonight I had stuffed red peppers as a starter and a Chinese style microwave concoction with chicken pieces and a pint of lager thus undoing any benefit from the morning exercise.
And now to a moan. On the last full day of the Scottish experience I purchased a Waterford Crystal Swan and on return discovered that it lacked the stated mark of excellence, a seahorse. The following morning I returned and insisted on reimbursement having been assured that there were no seconds issued for sale. The detour led to a significant lengthening of the journey after being caught up in the weekend holiday rush. I had difficulty in sorting out a contact point after discovering that Waterford (of Irish origin) was now part of Wedgewood and the internet site, US base, Eventually I found an English customer service contact and today the truth was admitted. The company had abandoned the seahorse, although it was not stated if this was for all items or just for the swans or the series, but not bothered to alter the insert which emphasised that the seahorse is the mark of authenticity and excellence. This is not good enough quite apart from causing me to question the retail outlet.
And back to something different again, another film Hart's War, a film which I think I have watched before while doing something else but this occasion gave it my full attention. This becomes more than the standard World War 2 Prisoner of War film with Bruce Willis in the role of senior officer of the US forces who seizes the opportunity to exploit the arrival of two Black captured flyers to create a situation which leads to tragedy, but why? There are several twists with is a bitter sweet justice in which dubious means appear to become justified by their outcome. Not a great film with plot craters but one meriting attention on a cold and rainy day in summer or when tired or lazy to do anything else more worthwhile.
And now to Big Brother which I avoided after the first nasty experiences of inconsequential people seeking fame by interacting in a competitive situation under some editorial control. Since then selection and direction has moved towards the bizarre and the sensational with a few normal people interested in the challenge or looking for something which their everyday lives cannot produce. The celebrity edition proved of greater interest, but also became a misuse of the time. This time I decided to watch the entry of half ma dozen teenagers, including twins, a couple in their twenties and early thirties and one aged in the 50's and another 60, all female. Tonight Friday the first male is to be introduced. The majority of the young women appear to be wastes of space although several will be fought over by the young and not so young men. There are those who have already contributed something to the rest of humanity but whether this experience will add more is in question. Yet I feel compelled to watch again tonight, the first indications of addiction and what is worse, the thought that I could do better, if I dared. It is 10.30am on a dull first day of June and I have missed out what has been really important because it has to remain confidential.
Having retired to bed at around 1.30-2am I woke before nine feeling very refreshed and relaxed after the excitements of the previous three days, the part week in Scotland, and the disturbed and unsettled experiences of the previous five months. Hopefully there is to be a more balanced working summer although if the pattern of last year is followed the work level will be adjusted for the time given to the outdoors.
Before going out I completed the monster volume on the Dutch experience some 8 card sets in one 100 pocket soft cover of mementos from the 1986 visit of one week to Zeewolde at Flevoland. I consumed the small baguettes divided to make four half slit rolls filled with a little lettuce and prawns, with the fourth some fine cut ham, and without margarine. I watched for the second time within the space of a year the Steel Fleet, a tale of courage and sacrifice as the boss of a shipbuilding yard in Holland appears to first colludes in the hijacking of a completed submarine and then goes down with the next, taking with him the Nazi High Command including the Dutch Administrator played by Valentine Dyall, in the most desperate of circumstances with his wife, played by Googie Withers, believing that he is not only a collaborator but a murderer of a patriot. An uplifting film but with a theme which is explored in every aspect in the TV series, the Secret Army.
The walk and the subsequent lunch, the inevitable siesta set the pattern for the day. I am still digesting two meal experiences. The first was a collective Chinese extravaganza where all the dishes were demolished and the bill was a pleasant surprise around £15 a head including and average of three drinks. The second introduced me to a new fish, a bream, which was a delicious new taste but not worth the doubling of the per head price, especially as the coffee was cold. Tonight I had stuffed red peppers as a starter and a Chinese style microwave concoction with chicken pieces and a pint of lager thus undoing any benefit from the morning exercise.
And now to a moan. On the last full day of the Scottish experience I purchased a Waterford Crystal Swan and on return discovered that it lacked the stated mark of excellence, a seahorse. The following morning I returned and insisted on reimbursement having been assured that there were no seconds issued for sale. The detour led to a significant lengthening of the journey after being caught up in the weekend holiday rush. I had difficulty in sorting out a contact point after discovering that Waterford (of Irish origin) was now part of Wedgewood and the internet site, US base, Eventually I found an English customer service contact and today the truth was admitted. The company had abandoned the seahorse, although it was not stated if this was for all items or just for the swans or the series, but not bothered to alter the insert which emphasised that the seahorse is the mark of authenticity and excellence. This is not good enough quite apart from causing me to question the retail outlet.
And back to something different again, another film Hart's War, a film which I think I have watched before while doing something else but this occasion gave it my full attention. This becomes more than the standard World War 2 Prisoner of War film with Bruce Willis in the role of senior officer of the US forces who seizes the opportunity to exploit the arrival of two Black captured flyers to create a situation which leads to tragedy, but why? There are several twists with is a bitter sweet justice in which dubious means appear to become justified by their outcome. Not a great film with plot craters but one meriting attention on a cold and rainy day in summer or when tired or lazy to do anything else more worthwhile.
And now to Big Brother which I avoided after the first nasty experiences of inconsequential people seeking fame by interacting in a competitive situation under some editorial control. Since then selection and direction has moved towards the bizarre and the sensational with a few normal people interested in the challenge or looking for something which their everyday lives cannot produce. The celebrity edition proved of greater interest, but also became a misuse of the time. This time I decided to watch the entry of half ma dozen teenagers, including twins, a couple in their twenties and early thirties and one aged in the 50's and another 60, all female. Tonight Friday the first male is to be introduced. The majority of the young women appear to be wastes of space although several will be fought over by the young and not so young men. There are those who have already contributed something to the rest of humanity but whether this experience will add more is in question. Yet I feel compelled to watch again tonight, the first indications of addiction and what is worse, the thought that I could do better, if I dared. It is 10.30am on a dull first day of June and I have missed out what has been really important because it has to remain confidential.
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