Getting Ready For The Year of Licence To Kill
Here's a little medley of fun photos from 2006 that sum up the year for me:
Well I think my chores are all done. I've got all the food we're going to need in, I have the wine. I've done a metric shitload of washing, I've tidied up my computer so it's a happy little beastie again. I've tidied much of the house and the kitchen is clean.
The last task was wrapping presents for the family which is also now done. My mum sent T a little present which arrived in the post wrapped in brown paper and string. I assume that there's regular wrapping paper underneath but I was struck by how lovely parcels wrapped in brown paper are. This led me to decide to use parcel paper (like the stuff my current sketchpad is made of) for wrapping the family presents. To jazz it up a little I thought ribbons would set the paper off nicely and chose the russet as a colour that would glam up the paper without clashing with it. I love getting and wrapping presents for the family and my friends. It's one of the few time that we in the West get a little "Japanese" about something. We're very cavalier here and don't take time on presentation and careful decision-making. Wrapping presents is like making sushi. The right elements have to brought together with consideration and style. It's a chance for everyone to express a little of themselves in a creative fashion. Wonderful.
So now I'm all done. I shall go for a walk up One Tree Hill in a few minutes, then get some mulled wine on the hob when I return ready for Tinseltroos' arrival. I'm so excited that we get to spend Christmas together. After that I shall be off on a bit of an odyssey to see the scattered family so blogging may well be light or non-existent for the next few days.
Because I almost certainly won't even have the computer switched on tomorrow, let alone have time for posting I'll wish you all a very happy Christmas holiday now. Hope you have a wonderful time.
This week there's been some thick fog in and around London. It's become newsworthy because of hundreds of canceled or delayed flights into Gatwick and Heathrow airports. For me it's meant rather pretty colours on my morning walks to work when the sky is cloudless.
A while back I complained that a Soho institution, "The Intrepid Fox", a goth pub on a site that had contained a pub for more than two hundred years had been forced to close, apparently because of plans by the new lease-holders to "develop" the building, I assumed into flats no-one could afford. That does not seem to have happened. The old building on Wardour Street is boarded up with "To Let" signs all over it. It appears therefore that these idiots have kicked out a successful business in order to try extort an even higher rent from some other luckless bastard and, having failed in this attempt, have been left with an empty building in a prime spot in Soho doing nothing. My tiny mind boggles.
In happier news, the Fox lives on. "The Intrepid Fox", complete with its iconic gargoyle over the door has re-opened just off Charing Cross Road. It's in a modern building which doesn't have the Dickensian charm of the old site but at least its spirit of individuality continues. We must be thankful for small mercies.
I hardly noticed but The Renaissance Monkey was one yesterday, and re-reading the entry it turned out to be quite prophetic. Happy Birthday little blog.
Looking at the entries though, a year ago today I wrote the first proper entry so today's the anniversary of actually doing something. A whole year of rants, screeds, piffle, hogwash and tripe (and recipes, though none have yet featured tripe). I hope someone apart from me was at least a bit entertained by some of it and if not, I'm very sorry but I don't see the standard of prose improving much in the next year.
Cheers! *clinks glass*
It's been a frenetic weekend and Monday. I worked Saturday (again) as progress on HPatOotP has been like wading through treacle in heavy boots recently. Fortunately I was able to finish by about 5 p.m. and head home to cook T some stuffed peppers for dinner.
Sunday was much better. We went to London Zoo. I cannot remember the last time I went to a zoo. I must have been pretty small though as I have only the faintest memory. In the manner of all good spiritual five year olds you have to choose favourite animals regardless of their endangeredness or whatever. I like the penguins (obviously), the tigers, the tapir, the giraffes and all the monkeys especially the golden lion tamarins, which have small grumpy faces somewhat akin to a pug.
Yesterday I wanted to give Jeff Bezos a big, wet kiss. T and I decided to get ourselves a Wii as our Christmas present to ourselves. Amazon had said that delivery would be on or around the 16th December as despite getting up early and going as fast as I could through the pre-order fiasco I missed the first delivery so launch day came and went with no Wii. Monday didn't. T received the games in the morning, which was clearly some sort of tease to get us even more excited and then upon returning from a meeting mid-afternoon there was a large Amazon box waiting on my desk. I almost burst with excitement, then I showed T and she almost burst with excitement, then as news of our arrival spread around the studio there were other pockets of explosive excitement, tinged with jealousy.
Upon getting it home we played Rayman Raving Rabbids and the Wii Sports. It became really obvious very quickly what a superb little machine it is. It's so socially driven. You wave the remotes you can see me holding around to perform actions in the games so it's immediately more expressive and physical than your typical console and it encourages people to join in. Sisoftroos also partook of the merriment and collectively we had hysterical fun, throwing cows, playing bowling, dancing with rabbits, filling rabbit's snorkels with carrot juice (natch) and so on. I think this console is going to be huge, it encourages non-hardcore gamers to play, and that's the key, it allows everyone to play, not just spotty fifteen year old boys (both actual and spiritual).