Captain Courageous

I arrived in Bedfordshire last night, by way of India, where we were playing against a team still smarting from their defeat by England in the Twenty20 competition, and looking for revenge.

They won the toss, and elected to bat - which looked like the wrong decision when Rob knocked out the middle stump in his first over: 0-1.

That gave us a false sense of optimism however, as their batsmen dug in and scored steadily at a rate of over 4 an over - particularly Tandelki, who reached his 50 in the 15th over - and that just encouraged them to hit out even more, their 100 coming up in the 20th over (during which Tandelki was dropped twice - the kind of sloppiness in the field I thought we had eliminated. Harsh words were thought).

At last a wicket fell, when (leading by example) I held on to a catch from Phil's bowling: 108-2.

They continued to score well, until Tandelki finally fell, a sharp catch off Rob's bowling being held by Mincat: 121-3.

This brought about a collapse - Rob taking his third wicket when I held another catch: 129-5.

Rob returned the compliment the next over, holding a catch off my bowling: 130-6.

I bowled the next man: 130-7.

Rob got Druvad to nick the ball to Richard: 130-8.

He then got a clean bowled, for his five-fer: 131-9.

A classy yorker was dug out, but only for the ball to reach a diving Richard 131-10.It had looked at the halfway stage that they would be setting us a target nearer 200, so we did well to restrict them to 131, but even so, this could be a challenging target.

Our new opening bat, Ad, set off well, with some bright strokes, before being caught and bowled in the second over: 18-1.

The Indians were playing very aggressively, and it was no surprise when another wicket fell, ILTV being bowled: 27-2.

Batting at number 4 seemed to suit Christopher better than opening, as he and I pushed the score on well (indeed he ended up our second highest scorer) before he was caught: 62-3.

Richard too was caught, going for a flashy drive: 66-4.

Unbelievably, Mincat tried the same shot off the next ball, with an identical result: 66-5.

Half our wickets gone, and halfway to the target - but our main batsmen out.

Carol was caught out soon after, and we were in deep trouble, on 72-6.

Another sharp catch saw Ivy out: 80-7.

I was still in, but just had the three bowlers left to support me. Could we score 52 between us?

I was dropped twice on caught and bowled chances, but sadly Rob wasn't: 83-8.

At least my half century came up.I tried to keep the strike, but inevitably Phil ended up facing a fast ball, and was bowled; 102-9.

Thirty runs needed, and just Vicus and I to score them. They had pushed the fielders out deep - offering me singles, which would give them the chance to bowl at Vicus. I suspect this tactic would have worked eventually, but for some unaccountable reason their captain changed his strategy, and brought the fielders in close around my bat - which meant, as long as I didn't give a catching chance, I could score boundaries. I grabbed my chance, and struck four after four, until, eventually, we reached 133-9 and won!We are, naturally, still top of the table. Next week we play Australia, at Lords.

And So To Bed

In other news, I am going away for the weekend. I shall mostly be spending time in bed with some old friends.

Don't get excited.

That was a typo.

I shall be spending time in Beds. With some old friends.

Bedfordshire, that is.

I have printed a map, so that those who do not know the East of England can visualise the vast wide open plains that I shall have to traverse, scattering herds of Higgs Bison as I go.One of the churches I served in, many years ago, is celebrating its centenary this year. Actually, it's just the centenary of the current building (the previous church on the site burnt down in 1908). Before Vicus asks, no I wasn't the minister there in 1909, nor was I the person who burnt down the old church.

Anyway, they've invited me, as one of their previous ministers, to take the service there tomorrow.It's called The Square by the way, not because of the style of worship, but because the church is situated in Ashton Square.

It's a bit of a drive to Dunstable from here (as the map shows) so I'm leaving this afternoon to go to some friends in Bedfordshire, with whom I shall spend the night. After my service tomorrow I shall proceed in a northerly direction, and spend the rest of the day with my mother. So I won't be home until Monday afternoon.

Never fear though! A report of today's cricket match will still appear here tomorrow. There won't be a post on Monday morning, though - and neither will I be able to comment on the excellent posts you will all undoubtedly write in the next 48 hours. Or not until Monday afternoon, anyway.

Be good while I'm away.

Home on the Range.

The garden is filling out nicely. There are still areas of bare soil - but it's only the first year. There will be a lot more colour in another month or two, as the reds start to come out.

Anyway, here's how it looked (out of focus, my old camera) from one of the bedroom windows in August last year, just after I moved in.This is how it looked earlier this week (there's even washing on the line, to give it that lived-in look). The paths are nearly complete, and will soon be ready for a couple of inches of gravel.Oh, and while I was never going for self-sufficiency, I've had strawberries to eat every day for the last few weeks, there are over seventy tomatoes ripening on the plants, and this was my first raspberry (it was eaten ten seconds after this photo).

British Summer Time

My, the sun's hot, isn't it?

Serves me right for touching it.


That joke (c) Spike Milligan 1950.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I continue my gentle campaign to lose some weight and become fitter (kidney stones permitting) so that I may recover my old levels of athleticism and drive.

Whilst I still have ups and downs (even downs when I should be up), nevertheless mentally I feel more alert, positive and cheerful, for life is good, is it not?

If my body would just revert to its previous Adonis-like state, then I'm sure I'd have even more energy and positiveness.

For the last couple of days I've been cycling - only a few miles, but I'm gradually getting further and further, fitter and fitter.After bricklaying this morning I plan to lose a bit more weight. I'm having my hair cut.

The Tide Terns

I went for a walk along the banks of a Norfolk river the other day.

I already knew of the River Chet, which passes through the town where I used to live, and the River Waveney, slightly further south, but I must admit I'd never realised that the river flowing east out of Norwich is the River Yare. If I'd thought about it, it should have been obvious, given that it reaches the sea at Great Yarmouth (which should, of course, be Yaremouth, and possibly was, many years ago).The sun was shining, the birds were singing, it was all very pleasant.I even took time to just sit and watch. I couldn't sit still for long, of course, being a busy bee, but got my camera out of my rucksac, and took photos of the seagulls fishing.If you click on that last photo to enlarge it, you'll see the bird was succesful.

I don't know which variety of gull they are. Kaz says if they had blackheads they might be terns. Perhaps they should use more soap and water (I just thought I'd say that before Rog does).

Can you tell what they are yet?

What Do You Think, Delilah?

Hmmm.

I have been toying with getting my hair cut short again, as it used to be when I played cricket (it was so easy to control - no need to comb it after taking my cap off - and easier to keep clean too).

It has also been suggested that my longer hairsyle nowadays makes me look older. The fact is, of course, that I am older than I was - well, at least physically. Inside, of course, I'm still a child.

Of course I don't want to waste the £6.50 I paid for a haircut only a few weeks ago, so any decision can wait until it needs cutting again. Which may be this week, if you all tell me to do it.

2003
2005
2006
200720082009

Chips With Everything

We played this match in Southampton, so that Phil and Vicus didn't have quite so far to travel.

I won the toss, and elected to bat.

Sadly, Christopher was caught and bowled in the first over. I promoted him to opener this season as a reward for kindnesses shown, but that might not have been such a favour, as it has rather affected his form. I think next week we'll give Ad a try-out at the number one position: 2-1

The grass on the outfield was looking very lush - it was a real effort to drive the ball as far as the boundary, but Ad and I did our best, putting on fifty before he was caught and bowled: 52-2.

I too was C&B: 61-3.

Mincat was caught in the slips: 73-4.

Richard was caught by their keeper: 95-5.

ILTV was bowled: 95-6.

As was Rob: 111-7.

And Ivy: 112-8.

Phil was run out: 114-9.

Vicus was caught and bowled: 125-10.Our catering manager had decided to take the weekend off, and Phil had eaten the boiled fruit cake that Ziggo made last weekend, but as we were by the sea, fish and chips were on the menu, as well as a vegetarian option (chips and chips).

On our return to the field, Vicus got the first two wickets: 1-2.

Rob got the third: 3-3.

South Africa rallied slightly from that disastrous start, before Vicus achieved an edge to Carol in the slips: 29-4.

Phil bowled his man: 35-5.

Rob got an edge to Richard: 41-6.

I got a caught and bowled: 55-7, and a clean bowled: 55-8.

Vicus knocked a stump out: 60-9.

Phil finished the match off: 61-10.

Naturally we are still top of the league.

Hasta la Vista, Baby

I refuse to post a heartbroken, tear-filled tribute to Michael Jackson. I checked my CD collection, and see that I own not a single one of his. Not even anything by the Jackson Five. Nor do any of his tracks appear on my Spotify playlist. He was a singer. He had more money than all of my readers put together, and was able to enjoy his eccentric whims. Now he's dead. It happens to all of us. Did we see this sort of media hysteria when Beethoven died? I think not (and there was a real genius). Get over it.

In other news, I went to see the latest Terminator film (it was a Father's Day gift from my son).

I don't want to spoil the plot for the rest of you, but I will just say that it's a good thing that the machines don't have radios (or perhaps they use DAB, while humans still use long wave) because John Connor regularly broadcasts the plans of the resistance (the time of the next day's attack, for instance).

It's also fascinating that, several years after the nuclear attacks on major cities, there are still fires burning in the debris-strewn streets.

It's an easy target, I know, to nit-pick escapist fantasies.

Let no-one say I don't pick easy targets.

My Anniversary

I left my last real job (Director/Office Manager for a firm of insurance brokers) nineteen years ago this summer. Two years at theological college followed, then two more years working full-time as a Probationary Minister.

Then, fifteen years ago this very day, the 26th June (it was a Sunday) I was Received Into Full Connexion (don't ask) at the Methodist Conference in Leeds Town Hall:That evening, at Horbury Methodist church, I was ordained into the Presbyteral Ministry.
There will not be a party to celebrate.

Dave Scores Again

Blogging has not only brought me a new group of acquaintances, it has also brought me some good friends - and some very generous ones, who have given me many gifts, some of which I have mentioned here, and others that I couldn't possibly describe to mixed company.

One of the presents, which I really should have spoken of earlier, is that BMCC now have their own scoreboard. The Mr Murph Memorial Scoreboard was kindly donated by Rog, and I have just realised that I have never acknowledged the gift here.

I have never claimed my mind is perfect - for instance I certainly can't remember all the details of every cricket match I've ever played in, although the highlights of some are still vivid (I did start a website so that I could record them, for the days when my memory really does start to go).

I moved the scoreboard the other day, and thought I really ought to put a proper score on it. The obvious choice was the one real match of cricket that I have captained - back in 2006. My vague memory was that the team scored around 120, and lost 8 or 9 wickets. I could definitely remember that I top scored, with 28 (as it happens, that was my best score for them).

I set up the scoreboard showing a score of 125-8.

Looking through my notebook, I subsequently discovered that in fact we scored 126-9. My memory isn't that bad after all.

Chevals de Fer

Odd, isn't it, that one can live through a half-century of thrills and spills, and yet never notice the derivation of a common English word?

'Why no!' I hear you exclaim. 'Surely not!!'

In my sleeping-chamber (indeed, also on the walls of the stairway leading thereto) I have a number of early twentieth-century travel posters, originating from companies based in French-speaking areas. I illustrate one to illuminate you:

Chemins de fer de l'etat Egyptienne it says in its inscrutable Gallic way. Well, not entirely inscrutable to me, for have I not an 'O' level in the French language, acquired at the Gravesend Grammar School for Young Gentlefolk?

De - of.
L'etat - probably the state.
Egyptien - Egyptian, I would hazard a guess.
Chemins de fer - I remember this, it means railway. I also recall, in Wild West films of my youth, the Native Americans speaking of the 'Iron Horse'. Fer, I am sure, means iron (ferrous is doubtless from the same root) so Chemins probably means horses.

So, re-arranging the words into a logical English order, Egyptian State Railway.

Except Chemins doesn't mean horses. No doubt I was confusing it with cheval. It actually means way, road, track, or path. Chemins de fer means, literally, way of iron (eg: iron way). Then, and only then, did it strike me that's what we call our system too - our trains run on a path, or way, made of rails - so we call it a railway. A way of rails. I'd never really thought of it like that, but had just accepted the word as being one invented to describe the system which runs trains.


PS. Crepuscule, before you ask, means twilight, or so I fondly believe. No doubt my linguistically-gifted readers will correct me.

PPS. I've just remembered that our colonial cousins speak of a railroad - same idea.

Czecho-Slovakian Bentwood

OK, for those who wanted to see it, here's my new oak dining table.The top opens up, to become twice the current size, but I couldn't be bothered to take everything off it, just for these photos.
Of rather more interest to me is the bentwood chair, visible in the second photo. I didn't buy seats to go with the table, as there is nowhere in my house to store four more chairs. I'll probably look for some folding ones. However, I thought I ought to have something to use immediately, and remembered the old chair I had stored in the garage.

I acquired it back in the late 1990's, when one of my churches closed - I thought I'd keep it as a memento. It was in poor condition then - almost black with dirt and varnish. Having been stood in the sun in a porch for five years, with a plant pot on the seat, and then flooded twice in the last few years hasn't done it a lot of good either.

Last weekend I partially stripped it (but not right down to bare wood - I wanted to leave a bit of a patina of age) and varnished it - it's come up quite well. Whilst doing so, I noticed a paper label stuck to the underside of the seat:That intrigued me, and so I carried out some investigations. Mundus and J. & J. Kohn Ltd. it says. Well, in 1849 Jacob Kohn (1791–1868) and his son Josef Kohn (1814–84) founded a factory for the production of wooden building components in the Vsetín area of Moravia. They began a successful campaign to dispute Michael Thonet’s patent of 1856 for the production of bentwood furniture, and, in 1867 they set up a company in Vsetín [in what is now Czechoslovakia, but was then Austria {Czechoslovakia was created in 1918 from territory that had previously been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire}] for the manufacture of bentwood furniture.

By around 1900 the company employed 6,300 workers, who were producing 5,500 pieces of furniture per day. At the Exposition Universelle of 1900 in Paris the firm first presented models designed by Gustav Siegel (1880–1970), and from then on bentwood furniture ceased to be an anonymous mass-market industrial product and became part of the Arts and Crafts Movement.

In 1914 J. & J. Kohn merged with Mundus AG. My chair, then, must have been built after 1914.

However, the label also says Czecho-Slovakia. This was the official short-form name of Czechoslovakia during several periods of its history: 1918 to 1920 (according to some sources until 1923), late 1938 to 1939 and April 1990 to December 1992.

Clearly this chair wasn't produced after 1990 (I was minister at the church where the chair came from, from 1992 until 2000, and it was an old chair when I started work there). It was probably therefore either made in 1918-20, or in 1939 (or an old label was stuck on it). However I can’t imagine chairs were being imported here from Czechoslovakia during WWII - and therefore I conclude this chair comes from the period immediately after WWI.

This is particularly fascinating to me, because I have read a number of books about Eastern Europe in the 1920's and 30's and have become quite interested in this particular time and place - so to think I actually own (and sit on) something from there appeals to my romantic nature. I wonder what stories it could tell (if it could only talk).

Exceedingly Good

Something Z said last week reminded me of a book I received as a prize many, many years ago.

Just to show you what a good boy I was, you will note that, despite having read the book many times over the years, the paper covers are still intact, albeit a little grubby.
What a goodie-goodie.

Sweets in Kandy

My kidneys were causing me a lot of pain yesterday. I'd really rather not have been playing, but I couldn't find a substitute at short notice. I did agree to play, but said I'd be batting at number 11 (and hoping I wouldn't need to bat) and resting in the outfield, and not bowling.

Sri Lanka won the toss and elected to bat. Bowling turned out to be hard work on a flat and unresponsive wicket. We toiled in the sun to little effect, until, eventually (in the 11th over) Mincat held onto a catch off Phil's bowling: 26-1.

The next over Rob managed to get a nick to carry to Richard: 27-2.

This brought Joyewordine in, who immediately started attacking the bowling aggressively.

Eventually, Christopher got another edge to Richard: 63-3.

Ivy held a catch off Vicus: 70-4.

She then caught Joyewordine, off Christopher's bowling: 81-5.

Christopher next achieved an LBW: 81-6.

Vicus hit the off stump: 84-7.

Ad (who had been attacked quite ruthlessly by the batsmen) got his first wicket for the club, with a catch by Mincat: 96-8.

There were 5 overs still to be bowled, but our top bowlers only had a couple of overs left - so rather than see Ad being punished any further, I dragged myself to the crease, and bowled four gentle balls - taking their last two wickets: 97-10.
I went for a lie-down (and some strong drugs) so have no idea what tea was like.

We only needed just over three an over, so I emphasised that a nice, steady attack was all that was needed.

Ad was given out LBW: 1-1.

Mincat was bowled: 5-2.

Against my better judgement, and perhaps under the influence of the drugs, I was persuaded that I should go out to bat now, to try to steady the ship. Christopher and I managed to do that, until he was bowled: 42-3.

ILTV was caught and bowled: 46-4.

Richard was caught in the slips: 62-5.

Carol was caught and bowled: 67-6.

I was bowled: 82-7.

Could our tail get the 16 runs we needed?

Rob was bowled: 88-8.

That was the last wicket to fall, and we ended winners, on 98-8.We are, naturally, still top of the league.That marks the halfway stage in the season. Next week we play South Africa again.

Testing Times

Regular readers will appreciate that I am becoming somewhat competent at playing the current computer game (Brian Lara Cricket 2005) which I use for BMCC matches - even playing at the hardest level, as I do, the opposition rarely score enough runs. Their main problem seems to be very defensive batting in the first half of the match - not going for quick singles (the observant amongst you will have realised that we have never, in any match, run anyone out).

I have toyed with buying the latest version of the game (which appears to be Brian Lara Cricket 2007) in which it seems that now the opposition do go for quick singles - but often suicidally, and as a result are too often run out. Even though the game has been reduced in price dramatically, the reviewers suggest it isn't worth buying.

The one area in which I have found the current game to be more realistic is in the test match setting - there caution and defensive batting are virtues, and it becomes a real effort to winkle the opposition out. Maybe - once the present one-day series has been completed, of course - we should just play test matches in future.


Update: It's 7.10 am, and my new dining table has just arrived. John Lewis said it would be delivered some time between 7 am and 2 pm today - so I don't think that's too bad. I bet they thought I wouldn't be up at this time on a Saturday, but I've been around and buzzing since 5.30, so there's no way they were going to catch me out.

Nature's Palette

When I said, a couple of days ago, that my garden would be a riot of colour next year, I didn't wish to imply that there's no colour in it this year - merely that the existing plants will have filled out, and more new ones will have joined them in the next twelve months.

There's been quite a lot of colour already this year - and lots more to come. Here are just a few shots of the garden yesterday:

Hair Today...

It's the 194th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo.

You knew that, though, didn't you?

Very well: ILTV asked for before and after (haircut) pictures of the back of my head.

OK.

Stepford, Norfolk.

Nothing much to report today - I started with a summer cold* yesterday, had a bad night's sleep and feel a bit down today (but that won't stop me bricklaying this morning).

Having nothing exciting to tell you, let me paint a picture of the place where I live.

Readers may have their own mental image of what life is like in a Norfolk village.

You are quite right.

The village in which I live is, though, a little out of the ordinary.

Eight or nine years ago a new estate was built at the north edge of the village. The several hundred (I suspect probably over 1,ooo) people living in this estate have effectively doubled the population of the village.

The estate is 'family friendly' (20 MPH speed limits, small parks at the end of each road) and so has attracted a large influx of younger-than-the-average-age-for-a-Norfolk-village.

I am the oldest inhabitant of the eight houses which make up my Close. The other houses are all occupied by young families, where the husbands leave for work early, leaving their wives to sunbathe topless in their gardens, and drift around the Close in diaphanous négligées.**

As you can imagine, I blend in well.


*It could be swine 'flu, but I shall keep going, manfully.

**From the French: négligé, literally meaning neglected. Hmm.

Setting the Tone

The granite setts that I have been bringing home to edge my garden paths are extremely heavy. I daren't put more than eight in the boot - by that time the rear of the car is sitting down on its suspension quite noticeably.

It has taken, therefore, quite a few weeks to collect enough to edge the entire path - but I have now, at least, completed the main path. I'm not sure whether there will be enough to do both side branches, but I will press on, anyway.

Once the edging is complete (in several weeks time) I shall have to get a couple of tons (at least) of gravel, and spread it over the paths. I may swallow my pride (which normally insists on me trying to do everything myself) and accept Rog's offer of help, when that day comes, as it will all have to be barrowed from the front of the house (the only access point for a lorry) to the back. I may even ask my son, if he's free. Any other readers who want to join a gravel-spreading labour-gang will be most welcome (bring your own wheelbarrow and spade).

Here's an ultra wide-angle (OK, it's a composite of two photos) shot of my garden, taken in last night's thunder storm. You can't say I don't suffer for my art.

Le Tour de Norfolk.

Well, if I wish to get some semblance of fitness back, lose weight and have fun, then I need to do more than merely avoid the evil cupcake.

So I got my bike out, wiped off the mud deposited by two floods, and the dust from having sat idle for at least four years, oiled the moving parts and pumped the tyres up.

Then I did the same to the bike.

As you can see, it is a fine machine.
Note the a handy bag on the front for carrying small picnics, with map case on top.

Apparently, traveling on a bicycle at low to medium speeds (around 10-15 mph) uses only the same amount of energy that is required to walk (presumably not at 10-15 mph though). Air drag, which is, as we all know, proportional to the square of speed, requires dramatically higher power outputs as speeds increase.

I kept my speed down to 10 mph, to be on the safe side.

I only cycled a few miles the first time, but it was very pleasant.

Apart from the greenflies.

No-one Listens

Those who have been following this series closely will have noted that whenever we bat first we are always bowled out. In other words, we don't make full use of the 30 overs at our disposal. Before today's match a Mr Boycott dropped into the changing room to criticise our technique. He pointed out that we were wasting the opportunity to build up a really big score.

We promised him that we would concentrate on our defensive strokes, and refuse to give our wickets away easily. I won the toss, and decided we would bat first, to show Geoffrey what we could do, against a fairly aggressive Pakistan bowling attack.

Their very fast opening bowler hit Christopher twice, before getting the ball past him, and knocking his stumps over: 2-1.

In his next over he peppered Ad, before forcing an edge to 1st slip: 9-2.

ILTV edged to the keeper: 10-3.

Mr Boycott had started chewing his hat.

Mincat was next in, but she knows how to deal with a fast bowler, hitting a six and a four off the first over she faced - however he won the battle in the end, with another edge to the slips: 30-4.

Richard and I saw off the opening bowlers, but their second pair were just as crafty, and eventually Richard was bowled: 41-5.

I was given out LBW (Hawkeye shows that was a mistake): 65-6.

Fortunately their third string bowlers weren't quite as good, and Carol and Ivy were able to push on, until Ivy was out LBW: 91-7.

Rob was caught in the slips: 96-8.

Eventually they brought back their pacemen to finish off the tail, and Phil was bowled: 111-9.

Carol was finally winkled out, after a dogged 32: 131-10.
We had actually batted for 26·4 overs, which wasn't too bad (despite Mr Boycott's devastating criticism of our batting technique).

Tea was bread and cheese (Z's speciality).

Their first wicket fell with a caught-and-bowled to Vicus: 4-1.

Phil did the same: 8-2.

There were no further breakthroughs in the first 15 overs (after which teams usually start to attack) - but they were well behind the run-rate, on 27-2.

They did indeed start to attack, but eventually in the 22nd over I tempted Al Huq to hit a ball in the air, where Rob held onto it: 56-3.

Two overs later another of my balls flew to Ivy: 62-4.

In their penultimate over, Rob got their top batsman caught-and-bowled: 86-5.

Despite batting through their 30 overs, they finished on 94-5, and so we won.New Zealand lost another game, and so we're now clear on top of the league.Next week (the halfway stage in the league) we're away against Sri Lanka.

Dave Disobeys Two Women

Earlier in the week GSE ordered me to buy some M&S cupcakes.*
I'm not one to disobey a woman.

Then, on Thursday, another authoritative woman told me to buy myself a treat.

I had, as it happens, to go into Norwich yesterday. I looked at some new glasses, as the current pair aren't really what I wanted, but all the ones I really liked didn't suit my face. So I didn't buy any.

Then I went to John Lewis to look for a dining table, for I still don't have one, and I would like, one day, to be in a position to entertain. They had one that would just fit the space I have, so I've ordered it. I'm not sure that's really what was meant by a treat, though.

I found myself inexorably drawn to M&S, where, lo and behold, I found their new cupcake display.
I have very low self-esteem. It's not helped by my poor body image, mainly caused by feeling overweight. I'm sure if I lost a stone I'd feel better, and be more energetic to boot.

I may have low self-esteem, but I have strong willpower. I walked away from M&S without buying anything.

I went to Primark instead, and bought a pair of jeans, for what with gardening and bricklaying I seem to be going through quite a lot of them.


*That link may not be what GSE had in mind.

Look Into My Eyes

After yesterday's test, which produced very fair and correct results, here's an absolutely inaccurate description of me:

Your Eyes Should Be Brown

Your eyes reflect: Depth and wisdom People find you to be: Loyal, honest, and comforting Your best trait: You are comfortable with who you are, and you don't pretend to be someone you're not What's hidden behind your eyes: A tender heart

What Color Should Your Eyes Be?


Hmm...

ISTJ

Last week I was asked to take a Myers-Briggs personality test (something I've always avoided in the past). For those who have no idea about what I'm talking, there's some basic information about it here.

I took it as honestly as I could, and only did research into the process and meanings after I had completed the thing.

To be honest, reading up on it afterwards, I could have told you the outcome without bothering with the test. After fifty years of gazing at my navel, I have a fair idea about my personality.

To quote from some descriptions of people with my classification:

They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuality is a watchword of the ISTJ. The secretary, clerk, or business(wo)man by whom others set their clocks is likely to be an ISTJ.

As do other Introverted Thinkers, ISTJs often give the initial impression of being aloof and perhaps somewhat cold. Effusive expression of emotional warmth is not something that ISTJs do without considerable energy loss...

ISTJs are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially when the second parties don't keep their commitments. But they usually keep their feelings to themselves unless they are asked...

As an ISTJ, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you take things in via your five senses in a literal, concrete fashion. Your secondary mode is external, where you deal with things rationally and logically.

ISTJs are quiet and reserved individuals who are interested in security and peaceful living. They have a strongly-felt internal sense of duty, which lends them a serious air and the motivation to follow through on tasks. Organized and methodical in their approach, they can generally succeed at any task which they undertake.

ISTJs are very loyal, faithful, and dependable. They place great importance on honesty and integrity. They are "good citizens" who can be depended on to do the right thing for their families and communities. While they generally take things very seriously, they also usually have an offbeat sense of humour.

The ISTJ is extremely dependable on following through with things which he or she has promised. For this reason, they sometimes get more and more work piled on them. Because the ISTJ has such a strong sense of duty, they may have a difficult time saying "no" when they are given more work than they can reasonably handle. For this reason, the ISTJ often works long hours, and may be unwittingly taken advantage of.

ISTJs have an excellent ability to take any task and define it, organize it, plan it, and implement it through to completion. They are very hard workers, who do not allow obstacles to get in the way of performing their duties. They do not usually give themselves enough credit for their achievements, seeing their accomplishments simply as the natural fulfilment of their obligations.

ISTJs usually have a great sense of space and function, and artistic appreciation. Their homes are likely to be tastefully furnished and immaculately maintained. They are acutely aware of their senses, and want to be in surroundings which fit their need for structure, order, and beauty.

Fair enough, I must say. In fact, spot on.

Judges 16: 17

I hope no-one needs me to explain today's heading. I'm sure Mr Google will give you the answer, if you can't be bothered to look it up in your Bible.

It was the hair at the back (which is where most of my remaining hair lives, and which, of course, I can't see) which was worrying me most - it felt very thick, and a bit too long. The nice lady barber in the mythical town of Yagnub agreed.

ILTV asked for some before and after photos. OK:
Mind you, having your hair cut is a bit like housework - a waste of time really, as Judges 16: 22 explains.

Sitting Pretty

Regular readers (a Mrs Trellis from South Kazakhstan) may recall the arbour I built earlier this year.Very few things in life are perfect (no, not even me! nor the things I build!!). In this case, the seating arrangement isn't ideal.

The back of the seat - where one leans against it if one is, as I am, a natural lounger - is the vertical back of the arbour itself. This forces one into an unnatural upright stance, almost as though the thing had been designed by posture experts.

Also, the back flexes slightly when one puts one's whole weight (12-and-bit stones) upon it.

What it really needs is a separate, slightly angled and more rigid back piece.

Using some more of the odds and ends of timber one finds in a man's workshop, your host has spent the last few days building just such an object, painting and fitting it:

Dave the Builder

What better way to spend a Monday morning than working in the fresh air?
Yes, I'm off shortly, to lay a few more bricks. I believe (unless plans have been changed over the last week) that we may be trying to fit into the wall a large ornamental piece, which came from some long-demolished stately residence.

I am a little hazy on its provenance. No doubt Z will explain all.

I may get my hair cut this afternoon.

A Black Eye

Well, after England's defeat by the Netherlands on Friday, clearly any result is possible in cricket. New Zealand had cunningly played an extra game mid-week, to try to ensure they would stay above us, even if we beat them today - sadly for them they had lost that match, thus at one stroke both foiling their plan, and giving us hope that they were not invincible.

New Zealand won the toss, and decided to field. I decided to use the same batting line-up that had performed so well last week and I aimed to set them a target of 150 (ie setting the opposition a run-rate of 5 per over).

Our hearts were in our mouths when Christopher was bowled first ball: 0-1.

Ad was run out: 8-2.

So was Mincat - we were starting to realise what sharp fielders the Kiwis are: 20-3.

ILTV and I settled down, and saw us past the 50 mark, until she clipped one to the keeper: 52-4.

Richard was bowled: 66-5.

Our target of 150 looked rather unlikely now.

Carol too was bowled: 81-6.

Well, at least I reached my half-century before we were all out.
Ivy and I pushed the score past 100 before she was caught: 127-7.

I too was caught, by a diving first slip: 136-8.

We were relying on the bowlers to get us up to 150 - they had plenty of overs to play with, but did they have the ability?

Phil was caught by the keeper: 139-9.

Vicus was bowled - but not before he and Rob had taken us past our target: 154-10.
Tea involved various combinations of stuffed emu.

With a competitive target we knew their batting line-up would feel under pressure, which intensified when Vicus took a wicket in the first over: 0-1.

Rob took the next wicket: 6-2.

They scored odd singles, but were steadily dropping behind the run-rate - after 10 overs they'd achieved just 18-2, and at 15 overs (the halfway point) they had dried up completely, on 21-2.

Finally they started to try to hit out - but that just gave our fielders more chances, the first being a ball struck firmly off Vicus, straight into Mincat's hands: 24-3.

Next ball Vicus held a sharp caught-and-bowled: 24-4.

Rob took the next wicket: 26-5.

I had a go too: 28-6.

And in my next over I achieved a hat-trick: 32-9.

Rob finished them off: 33-10.As you will see, we now head the league table. Huzzah!Next week we are at home to Pakistan.

Les Pantoufles

My, for want of a better word, 'slippers' are becoming somewhat disreputable. I do tend to forget to change into footwear appropriate to the the task I have in hand, be that decorating, slaughtering a bullock on the altar or the odd bit of gardening. Believe me, you wouldn't want to slip an unprotected foot into them:I have been looking for some suitable replacement for some time, but haven't found anything that matches my demanding standards.

Imagine my delight then, when my chap in the South of France sent me these wonderful items:You may note that they are made of 100% laine. You just can't get that sort of quality product for the discerning gentleman in this country.

Cheep Trills

Many of us, living in towns and cities, miss the dawn chorus.

Fear not, thanks to the wonders of the electric radio and/or the internets, you can hear it here, at Birdsong Radio.

'Ah, but,' my eagle-eyed readers will say, 'didn't I read that Birdsong Radio had gone off the air?'

You did indeed read that - in, for instance, this release from the Press Association. Even the BBC seemed to imply this.

However - and unlikely as it seems that the press in this country could ever make a mistake - this report is incorrect.

It is, in fact, Radio Birdsong which has closed, not Birdsong Radio.

I'm glad that's cleared up.