It appears that the Catholic Church is having yet another restricted election on who gets to be next Pope.
With all of the modern technology that is available, why do a bunch of generally old men, average age of around 72 need to go to the Vatican to elect a new Pope?
Note: Only Cardinals younger than 80 are allowed to vote, if the 80+'s were allowed to vote, the average age would move up to around 78.
More important than this, can the Catholic Church continue to insist that women have no place in the positions of power in the Church hierarchy?
What would be a "good" first act for the next Pope, would be to reach out to all of the people who have been sexually abused by "celibates" in position of authority in the Church; firstly by apologising unreservedly to all of those people damaged by this abuse and secondly setting up a truth and reconciliation commission to reveal and remove all abusers from the Catholic Church.
However, this would be most unlikely to happen. given that even some senior members of the Catholic Church accused of, "coverups of cases of child molestation", are at the Vatican to vote. Notwithstanding this, the Catholic Church has a history of cover-ups and inaction stretching back through recent decades and in almost every country.
So given this unflattering history, there is little or no chance that the new kid (ha - ed) on the block would want to shine a light on this particularly dark underbelly of the Catholic Church.
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
Sunday, 10 March 2013
Underwear Rotation
What on earth are you on about now? Well, it is all about wear and tear. Simply put, each time that you put your pants (boxer shorts I'll have you know - ed) back in the drawer, put them at the bottom of the pile. Similarly with the socks, though sock rotation is generally less effective, especially if all your socks are exactly the same colour. Following these easy to follow steps can achieve the nirvana that is underwear rotation, every item gets worn and therefore worn at exactly the same rate.
Why on earth, would you want to do that. Well, most importantly it saves your "favourite" items from being worn out too quickly. So even the less well fitting (they shrunk in the wash, honest - housekeeping ed) items also get worn, and you are not left in the state of "Underwear Hell".
Now, "Underwear Hell", is that point at which all your favourite items are in such a shape, (tattered, holy, worn but enormously comfortable and reassuring - ed), that they have to be thrown away (or surreptitiously put into the pockets of other peoples coats in restaurants - evil ed) and you are left with all the ill-fitting and less comfortable items.
Throwing away favourite items is one of the more difficult tasks of modern life (eh? Elucidate please - ed). Well, with most items in modern day life, it is very clear when things need to be changed. Think of most of your electronic items, for instance, the TV, when it dies, it is simply a black and white issue (they still have them do they? - ed), in that it either works or it doesn't, so time for a new one.
Another example is when your personal (not too personal - ed) electronic device stops working there is usually little chance of getting it fixed (that difficult to find sewing kit, from that expensive hotel just doesn't cut the mustard in this instance - ed). So, it is simply a task of saving up all of those pennies and buying the latest incarnation from your favourite manufacturer of personal electronic items.
Funnily enough, to contradict this argument, the number of iPhones I have seen with cracked screens still being used is interesting. So, let us slightly alter the argument, maybe there is a correlation between how much an item is loved defines how long it will continue to be used before it becomes totally unusable and have to be changed.
Now, being a chap, the idea of having favourite boxer shorts does seem rather odd (surely not - ed). However, it is true, some pairs just fit that much more comfortably (snug - ed) and without underwear rotation these pairs would be worn out much sooner than they would have been without that rotation.
Now, when I need to buy new boxers, what I tend to do, is buy a new test pair (generally after much searching and heartache, never remember either the shop, or the boxer short serial number of the well fitting but worn pairs - ed), to try them out. If they fit and are reassuring comfortable in all the right areas, I go back to the shop and stock up, because once you find some that fit, you need to fill your boots with them, as you can guarantee that the next time you look for them, not only will they will have changed shape, material, but even your size 34" waists will no longer fit (He is convinced that 34" waist boxers are shrinking as the years pass - ed)
But, disaster can strike (and often does - ed), in this shopping frenzy of underwear renewal. What happens if the test pair that you have bought don't fit in that comfortable and reassuring way? (reassuring? - ed). Reassuring in the sense that everything is under control and gently cupped and there is no chafing. Having your vitals chafed is something to be feared.
Chafed vitals... sigh, brings back the painful memory of a long distance cycle ride (Lands End to John O'Groats - bottom left to top right of Great Britain, around 870 miles - geography ed), once chafing has started, no amount of unguent being slapped on to the affected area can help. You simply need to stop cycling and air the affected areas until it all can heal. Unfortunately that was not possible. By the time I reached John O'Groats and tried to walk, I reckon you could have driven a motorway between my legs (so bowlegged was he - ed). (Stop wandering and get back to the point - circulation ed)
Where were we? Aha, yes, the striking of underwear disaster. This being the buying of a pair of boxers that do not fit very well. Some of you will say, take them back and get a new pair, that ain't gonna happen as shops don't like worn underwear back for hygiene reasons (saying that they have been boil washed and pressed doesn't seem to help - ed).
So, once you have bought an ill-fitting pair, you are stuck with them. But all it not lost because this is where Underwear Rotation really comes into its own. Even the ill-fitting pairs are going to get worn and eventually need to be replaced, they are not simply put at the back of the drawer and forgotten about!
In some loose sense it is like squad rotation in football (soccer, Alsaskan Ralph , soccer! - ed), even the players that are not quite as good are given a kick about.
So, I ask you, why are there not "Underwear Test Packs", which contain a single pair to be test driven (worn - ed)? So, if that single pair fails fit in an appropriate and safe manner (safe? - ed), you are only stuck with the single pair and not two or more of the blighters from the economy pack, that then have to be rotated until they in due course need to be replaced.
Afterthought
I have to admit, that sometimes I do cheat. The whole point of having playing the Underwear Rotation game, is that occasionally, their is the frisson of delving through the pile and pulling out a favourite pair and wearing those instead of the pair that has found its way to the top of the pile.
Note: this must be only done occasionally else, the whole system collapses in anarchy and confusion. You have been warned.
Why on earth, would you want to do that. Well, most importantly it saves your "favourite" items from being worn out too quickly. So even the less well fitting (they shrunk in the wash, honest - housekeeping ed) items also get worn, and you are not left in the state of "Underwear Hell".
Now, "Underwear Hell", is that point at which all your favourite items are in such a shape, (tattered, holy, worn but enormously comfortable and reassuring - ed), that they have to be thrown away (or surreptitiously put into the pockets of other peoples coats in restaurants - evil ed) and you are left with all the ill-fitting and less comfortable items.
Throwing away favourite items is one of the more difficult tasks of modern life (eh? Elucidate please - ed). Well, with most items in modern day life, it is very clear when things need to be changed. Think of most of your electronic items, for instance, the TV, when it dies, it is simply a black and white issue (they still have them do they? - ed), in that it either works or it doesn't, so time for a new one.
Another example is when your personal (not too personal - ed) electronic device stops working there is usually little chance of getting it fixed (that difficult to find sewing kit, from that expensive hotel just doesn't cut the mustard in this instance - ed). So, it is simply a task of saving up all of those pennies and buying the latest incarnation from your favourite manufacturer of personal electronic items.
Funnily enough, to contradict this argument, the number of iPhones I have seen with cracked screens still being used is interesting. So, let us slightly alter the argument, maybe there is a correlation between how much an item is loved defines how long it will continue to be used before it becomes totally unusable and have to be changed.
Now, being a chap, the idea of having favourite boxer shorts does seem rather odd (surely not - ed). However, it is true, some pairs just fit that much more comfortably (snug - ed) and without underwear rotation these pairs would be worn out much sooner than they would have been without that rotation.
Now, when I need to buy new boxers, what I tend to do, is buy a new test pair (generally after much searching and heartache, never remember either the shop, or the boxer short serial number of the well fitting but worn pairs - ed), to try them out. If they fit and are reassuring comfortable in all the right areas, I go back to the shop and stock up, because once you find some that fit, you need to fill your boots with them, as you can guarantee that the next time you look for them, not only will they will have changed shape, material, but even your size 34" waists will no longer fit (He is convinced that 34" waist boxers are shrinking as the years pass - ed)
But, disaster can strike (and often does - ed), in this shopping frenzy of underwear renewal. What happens if the test pair that you have bought don't fit in that comfortable and reassuring way? (reassuring? - ed). Reassuring in the sense that everything is under control and gently cupped and there is no chafing. Having your vitals chafed is something to be feared.
Chafed vitals... sigh, brings back the painful memory of a long distance cycle ride (Lands End to John O'Groats - bottom left to top right of Great Britain, around 870 miles - geography ed), once chafing has started, no amount of unguent being slapped on to the affected area can help. You simply need to stop cycling and air the affected areas until it all can heal. Unfortunately that was not possible. By the time I reached John O'Groats and tried to walk, I reckon you could have driven a motorway between my legs (so bowlegged was he - ed). (Stop wandering and get back to the point - circulation ed)
Where were we? Aha, yes, the striking of underwear disaster. This being the buying of a pair of boxers that do not fit very well. Some of you will say, take them back and get a new pair, that ain't gonna happen as shops don't like worn underwear back for hygiene reasons (saying that they have been boil washed and pressed doesn't seem to help - ed).
So, once you have bought an ill-fitting pair, you are stuck with them. But all it not lost because this is where Underwear Rotation really comes into its own. Even the ill-fitting pairs are going to get worn and eventually need to be replaced, they are not simply put at the back of the drawer and forgotten about!
In some loose sense it is like squad rotation in football (soccer, Alsaskan Ralph , soccer! - ed), even the players that are not quite as good are given a kick about.
So, I ask you, why are there not "Underwear Test Packs", which contain a single pair to be test driven (worn - ed)? So, if that single pair fails fit in an appropriate and safe manner (safe? - ed), you are only stuck with the single pair and not two or more of the blighters from the economy pack, that then have to be rotated until they in due course need to be replaced.
Afterthought
I have to admit, that sometimes I do cheat. The whole point of having playing the Underwear Rotation game, is that occasionally, their is the frisson of delving through the pile and pulling out a favourite pair and wearing those instead of the pair that has found its way to the top of the pile.
Note: this must be only done occasionally else, the whole system collapses in anarchy and confusion. You have been warned.
Friday, 8 March 2013
Bad O'Clock in the morning...
Sometimes sleep comes like a bolt from the blue, you are awake without a care in the world, the evening panning out much like you might have predicted and then you are overwhelmed by an express train of tiredness, with you eye lids growing so heavy so quickly that you barely make it up the stairs and into bed before sleep overcomes you (you did clean your teeth I hope - dental hygienist ed),
Now, this all sounds vaguely interesting (nope - ed), but I haven't got to the point of this yet, so for once you are a little ahead of yourself Mr. Ed, so hold you horses while I write.
The problem, isn't getting to sleep, that appears to be as easy as one, two, snore; it is for me at the moment twofold, firstly staying asleep and secondly not remembering my dreams. Of, late, I have found both of these two in an unpleasant duet whirling around me as I am cosily snuggled up in bed.
Waking from very vivid, technicolour, tiring, exhausting, busy, endlessly active dreams and then to being too tired to go back to sleep (too tired to sleep? - ed)
So here I am, at bad o'clock in the morning doing a brain dump of my current mental state, to try and get back into the right state to go back to sleep.
Now, on the sleep hygiene front (strange term, but means the use of best practice techniques to get you off to sleep and keep you there until morning - medical ed). Using a computer is bad, well, not quite as bad playing computer games before bed, as all that colour and noise (in the games that he plays - entertainments ed) is more likely to enliven the mind than calm it. But I believe, emptying the mind of the detritus that the latest dream has just flung up and getting back to a calmer state by dumping the thoughts on to a post does seem like a useful action, certainly for me at this moment, at this bad o'clock time.
So, that leaves me with glasses on and in my favourite warm towelling dressing gown, sitting at the table in the dining room (sounds so grand - housing ed) typiing away. The room smells of white spirit still, well it is the room that the oil painting is done in, and the last painting is still on the easel slowly attempting to dry. The palette covered with a piece of cling film, as that does a good job of (a) keeping the blobs of oil paints from drying out too quickly and (b) stops the cats from getting various parts of their anatomy covered in oil paint, as they are such investigative creatures (that'll be the curiosity in their genes - zoology ed).
The blue LED of the big computer, rather than the laptop that I am currently using, is blinking at me, this tells me that it, at least, is asleep. As for me, just too wound up for the moment to sleep. Bad o'clock in the morning, seems to be continuing.The Faithless song, "I can't get no sleep", is starting to intrude on my consciousness, which is definitely not a good thing, as it means that my mind is starting to wake up. Currently my head is feeling like a big empy Cathedral; roomy, quiet, cold and with the potential of a lot of echoes, should someone make a noise.
I guess I could go back to bed and start counting sheep. Have tried that, but the little bleeders just look at me and say, "You want to jump that fence, do it yourself, baaaaa maaaare", which you have to admit isn't quite what you want when you are trying to numb your brain to sleep.
Strange thing is, it is generally not the getting off to sleep that is the problem. It is staying asleep once I get there (you don't actually go anywhere, you just twitch and snore on either one or the other side of your body, maybe with the occasional drool emanating from the side of your mouth - nightwatchman ed).
So, have I got enough of the detritus out of my head to allow me to mooch back and snuggle up back in bed. Hmm, not sure, let me give it another few minutes and see if the drowsiness moves back into my brain, like an Autumn fog, slowly covering the mental landscape, muffling the noises and sapping the colours of my waking mind and transporting me back to the Land of Nod.
Aha, ten past bad o'clock and still here. Seems a wind has blown up a notch or two and cleared the mental fog so keeping me awake. Luckily for me I suppose, is that this morning is Saturday, and this is the time that would be called, "Having a good night out", if I hadn't been to bed at all. However, that not being the case, it is 12 minutes past bad o'clock and all is not at all well.
So, where do I go from here. On a positive note (really - ed), at least there is the possibility of having a bit of a lie in once I do get back to sleep, after this somewhat irritatingly disrupted time. Wish it were as easy as that, but unfortunately, the lie-in cannot be any later than around 09:50, as the car is in a public car park and is only paid up until 10:00am, simply ran out of change to put it on any longer than that. For your information, we have no parking outside of the house (Victorian cottage on a narrow lane - housing ed) and so will need more money to be put into the ticket machine and the resultant ticket perched on the dashboard at the regulation height and distance, for the car to be allowed to stay where it is, otherwise, there will be blood, no, not blood just consequences (the traffic warden will come by and put a really expensive ticket on the windscreen - traffic ed).
(How is the brain now - medical ed), well definitely at the more tired than awake stage, might be best to finish this and slide back into bed and see if closing the eyes is fruitful (Sorry? What has fruit to do with sleep? - ed)
So, it is now just past half past bad o'clock in the morning and I am off to bed. I wonder if one of the cats has been kind enough to keep my side of the bed warm. (We must be told - investigative ed). If I remember I will let you know in tomorrow's (today's - ed) next installment. Good night, and I really mean that.
Sand, Sea and Broken Tree
Appears that it is time for another painting. Been a few weeks since last painting, Charlie The Dog, now complete, don't tell my sister-in-law Heather, as it still has to make its way surreptitiously to a wall in her house.
There is a photograph, that Bridget bought me some time ago, and it is framed and on our bedroom wall, called "Driftwood, Antigua", by Ian Cumming taken 2002. I prefer to call my rendition of it Sand, Sea and Broken Tree, so I have been thinking about whether I could have a go at unpacking the artistic licence once more and having a go at capturing it in oil
Unfortunately, for you all, I managed to get so carried away with it, I failed to remember to take photo's of the painting as it progressed (damn that music box, singing along to songs made me plain forget - music ed).
So, there are just two photos, one when it was mostly done, and one when it is almost but not quite complete, still feel the urge for a little more tarting up.
So here goes, first photo of painting....
More complete picture:
Reckon that the tree thickness is slightly wrong, and that the long straight branch is too long and too straight. Still unsure of the shadows. A bit more white in the cloud at the back left.
There is a photograph, that Bridget bought me some time ago, and it is framed and on our bedroom wall, called "Driftwood, Antigua", by Ian Cumming taken 2002. I prefer to call my rendition of it Sand, Sea and Broken Tree, so I have been thinking about whether I could have a go at unpacking the artistic licence once more and having a go at capturing it in oil
Unfortunately, for you all, I managed to get so carried away with it, I failed to remember to take photo's of the painting as it progressed (damn that music box, singing along to songs made me plain forget - music ed).
So, there are just two photos, one when it was mostly done, and one when it is almost but not quite complete, still feel the urge for a little more tarting up.
So here goes, first photo of painting....
 |
| Rather late in the day first photo of oil painting |
More complete picture:
 |
| Second step , closer to completion. |
But all in all not too shabby for a few hours work.
Whilst painting, I was listening to a couple of, "Acoustic 3", CDs - some great tracks, no idea who by or the name (so that was a useful bit of information then - ed), might listen to it again, and let you know later. One that grabbed me and pulled me up/down/around for a couple of minutes. Wow.
For now, Friday evening beckons with a crooked smile on her face and a knowing look in her eye. So enjoy your weekend. When the picture is complete will add another photo for you possible delight!
Afterthought
Ian Cumming has an online portfolio where the photo I have used as the basis of this painting lives. At this point in time it is the last photo visible in the portfolio (so perhaps the oldest? - ed)
Whilst painting, I was listening to a couple of, "Acoustic 3", CDs - some great tracks, no idea who by or the name (so that was a useful bit of information then - ed), might listen to it again, and let you know later. One that grabbed me and pulled me up/down/around for a couple of minutes. Wow.
For now, Friday evening beckons with a crooked smile on her face and a knowing look in her eye. So enjoy your weekend. When the picture is complete will add another photo for you possible delight!
Afterthought
Ian Cumming has an online portfolio where the photo I have used as the basis of this painting lives. At this point in time it is the last photo visible in the portfolio (so perhaps the oldest? - ed)
Thursday, 7 March 2013
Cameron's Not For Turning
David Cameron the UK's Primer Minister (well actually only the English PM, because you have to exclude Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland as they have their own first ministers - agitprop ed), has just stated that the deficit reduction plan that is playing out in the UK is going to be stuck too come what may.
It sounds close to the, "You turn if you want to, the lady's not for turning", that PM Margaret Thatcher famously said at the Conservative Party Conference in 1980 in the depths of the worst recession (in living memory up until that point, the current recession is even worse - economics ed) of her leadership.
In my opinion Mr. Cameron's was a fairly well balanced speech, but there were a few parts that caused me to do a little finger waving and mild expostulations at the TV. What really got my goat (thanks (?) to Ralph the Alaskan for the latest picture of what appear to be you skinny dipping in a lake) was the idea that the coalition has cut "in-half" the amount of income tax that "hard working families", on minimum wage pay .
But, but but, why on earth are people on minimum wage paying any income tax at all? The minimum wage is not a living wage anywhere in this country and particularly not in the southern half of the UK.
Some quick, back of the spreadsheet calculations show that a minimum wage earner grosses £11,884.80 per year and actually takes home (after tax), £10,442.66. (See below for hopefully correct calculations - maths ed)
'Da Government' (tm) own definition of poor is, "A family is considered to be officially poor if they are living on less than 60% of Britain's median (average) level of household income."
Britain's gross median (average) income in the year 2011-12 was £26,312 giving a post tax amount of £20,254.16. So anyone with a net income, of 60% or less of this figure, £12,152 is officially classified as poor.
So figures for the tax year 2011-12, I have demonstrably shown that people on minimum wage even though they are deemed as officially poor, are paying not only income tax but national insurance as well.
How on earth have we got ourselves in this situation where those defined as and actually poor are paying any taxes at all? (answers on a postcard are not accepted - marketing ed)
Calculations
Minimum wage in the UK (2012) for over 21's is £6.19 an hour.
Take a working week as 40 hours.
Let say 240 working days a year.
So, given the above, the minimum wage earner doing one job, would have a gross income before tax and national insurance of 240 * 8 * 6.19 = £11,884.80 per year.
Now, taking into account income tax (using 2011-12 year for tax rates) of £881.96 and Employees National Insurance of £559.18 (an income tax by any other name is still an income tax - economics ed) . Lead us to a total of £1,441.14 of tax.
So the net income of this minimum wage earner is £11,884.80 - £1,441.14 = £10,443.66
Thanks to thesalarycalculator.co.uk for working out the tax and NI costs for tax year 2011/12. What a handy little tool you are.
Other assumptions: a single wage earner doing only one job. They get paid for the 8 Bank Holidays a year.
Afterthought
To be fair, I thought that this was a no brainer of an argument, that those on low pay should obviously not pay any taxes on income as they were too poor.
But it comes down to a "one size doesn't fit all", type of problem. Given the disparity in median income across the regions of the UK, if all of those on 60% or less of national median income did not pay any income tax, then this would disproportionately benefit some regions over others (up North in particular - ed)
However, those in work and on low wages (and paying income taxes) are at present eligible for various working tax credits to help boost their low income. So you have to ask yourself why is the government is taxing (clawing money from the poor - agitprop ed) them with one hand, then giving it or more back again in the form of working tax credits with the other (and causing a lot of cost in working it all out, overpaying, underpaying etc - ed).
You have to ask yourself, surely there is a simpler way than this?
It sounds close to the, "You turn if you want to, the lady's not for turning", that PM Margaret Thatcher famously said at the Conservative Party Conference in 1980 in the depths of the worst recession (in living memory up until that point, the current recession is even worse - economics ed) of her leadership.
In my opinion Mr. Cameron's was a fairly well balanced speech, but there were a few parts that caused me to do a little finger waving and mild expostulations at the TV. What really got my goat (thanks (?) to Ralph the Alaskan for the latest picture of what appear to be you skinny dipping in a lake) was the idea that the coalition has cut "in-half" the amount of income tax that "hard working families", on minimum wage pay .
But, but but, why on earth are people on minimum wage paying any income tax at all? The minimum wage is not a living wage anywhere in this country and particularly not in the southern half of the UK.
Some quick, back of the spreadsheet calculations show that a minimum wage earner grosses £11,884.80 per year and actually takes home (after tax), £10,442.66. (See below for hopefully correct calculations - maths ed)
'Da Government' (tm) own definition of poor is, "A family is considered to be officially poor if they are living on less than 60% of Britain's median (average) level of household income."
Britain's gross median (average) income in the year 2011-12 was £26,312 giving a post tax amount of £20,254.16. So anyone with a net income, of 60% or less of this figure, £12,152 is officially classified as poor.
So figures for the tax year 2011-12, I have demonstrably shown that people on minimum wage even though they are deemed as officially poor, are paying not only income tax but national insurance as well.
How on earth have we got ourselves in this situation where those defined as and actually poor are paying any taxes at all? (answers on a postcard are not accepted - marketing ed)
Calculations
Minimum wage in the UK (2012) for over 21's is £6.19 an hour.
Take a working week as 40 hours.
Let say 240 working days a year.
So, given the above, the minimum wage earner doing one job, would have a gross income before tax and national insurance of 240 * 8 * 6.19 = £11,884.80 per year.
Now, taking into account income tax (using 2011-12 year for tax rates) of £881.96 and Employees National Insurance of £559.18 (an income tax by any other name is still an income tax - economics ed) . Lead us to a total of £1,441.14 of tax.
So the net income of this minimum wage earner is £11,884.80 - £1,441.14 = £10,443.66
Thanks to thesalarycalculator.co.uk for working out the tax and NI costs for tax year 2011/12. What a handy little tool you are.
Other assumptions: a single wage earner doing only one job. They get paid for the 8 Bank Holidays a year.
Afterthought
To be fair, I thought that this was a no brainer of an argument, that those on low pay should obviously not pay any taxes on income as they were too poor.
But it comes down to a "one size doesn't fit all", type of problem. Given the disparity in median income across the regions of the UK, if all of those on 60% or less of national median income did not pay any income tax, then this would disproportionately benefit some regions over others (up North in particular - ed)
However, those in work and on low wages (and paying income taxes) are at present eligible for various working tax credits to help boost their low income. So you have to ask yourself why is the government is taxing (clawing money from the poor - agitprop ed) them with one hand, then giving it or more back again in the form of working tax credits with the other (and causing a lot of cost in working it all out, overpaying, underpaying etc - ed).
You have to ask yourself, surely there is a simpler way than this?
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Marwell Zoo Red Pandas
Now being Annual Ticket Holders at Marwell means that we can visit the zoo at the drop of a hat. In this case, yesterday we had to go to Chandlers Ford for a haircut, so more appropriately it was a visit to the zoo at the dropping of some hairs.
Well, when I say we, I mean, me and my better half. I didn't need to go to sit whilst hair was cut, but as the zoo is about 15 mins from Chandlers Ford, and for once it wasn't raining, how could we pass up the opportunity for another effectively free visit to the zoo! So, after the aforementioned haircut, and the, "Its suits you", "It looks lovely", and the, "You look magnificent", (done in the tones of River Song after she transforms from Amy Pond's friend Melanie into Alexis Kingston and looks in the mirror and expostulates, "I am going to be wearing lots of jodhpurs" - TV ed) we bought ourselves a cheap and cheerful picnic, as buying food at places of entertainment are generally too expensive and headed off to Marwell. However, before we reach the Red Panda's I need a slight detour.
Being a chap/bloke/man, I tend to notice that I need a haircut when I try and walk through the door and my hair impedes me from doing so. Not quite strictly true, but I get it cut whenever it starts to bother me, or when Bridget says, "You are looking a bit Tufty". But I can never see how I look like a squirrel given the total lack of bushiness in my hair these days. (If I can dig out one of those photos of you in your formative years and put it up, then you'll know what bushiness is all about - ed).
Haircuts for me are just sooo simple these days, "Number 6 all over, tapered at the back and a neck shave please", there is a slight variant when the Summer sun pops out, I might move from 6 down to 4. What I do find disturbing is the, "Would you like me to do your eyebrows and ears".Yeugh. Keep your clippers out of those areas!
Anyhow, after having to queue, for what felt like forever; actually two minutes, in the biting cold before being allowed to present our annual passes' bar codes to be scanned so let into the zoo.
There is a spot in the zoo, where the Red Pandas live. I have been to the zoo at least half a dozen times so far and had never once seen the Red Pandas anywhere but as dark figures up in the branches of the solitary enclosure tree.
But yesterday, two, yes two, that is all of the Red Pandas, were on the ground. So, to commemorate this and to firmly entrench myself in the good books after ticking the lovely haircut boxes, I took some photos and a bit of video of the Red Pandas as is shown below.
Well, when I say we, I mean, me and my better half. I didn't need to go to sit whilst hair was cut, but as the zoo is about 15 mins from Chandlers Ford, and for once it wasn't raining, how could we pass up the opportunity for another effectively free visit to the zoo! So, after the aforementioned haircut, and the, "Its suits you", "It looks lovely", and the, "You look magnificent", (done in the tones of River Song after she transforms from Amy Pond's friend Melanie into Alexis Kingston and looks in the mirror and expostulates, "I am going to be wearing lots of jodhpurs" - TV ed) we bought ourselves a cheap and cheerful picnic, as buying food at places of entertainment are generally too expensive and headed off to Marwell. However, before we reach the Red Panda's I need a slight detour.
Being a chap/bloke/man, I tend to notice that I need a haircut when I try and walk through the door and my hair impedes me from doing so. Not quite strictly true, but I get it cut whenever it starts to bother me, or when Bridget says, "You are looking a bit Tufty". But I can never see how I look like a squirrel given the total lack of bushiness in my hair these days. (If I can dig out one of those photos of you in your formative years and put it up, then you'll know what bushiness is all about - ed).
Haircuts for me are just sooo simple these days, "Number 6 all over, tapered at the back and a neck shave please", there is a slight variant when the Summer sun pops out, I might move from 6 down to 4. What I do find disturbing is the, "Would you like me to do your eyebrows and ears".Yeugh. Keep your clippers out of those areas!
Anyhow, after having to queue, for what felt like forever; actually two minutes, in the biting cold before being allowed to present our annual passes' bar codes to be scanned so let into the zoo.
There is a spot in the zoo, where the Red Pandas live. I have been to the zoo at least half a dozen times so far and had never once seen the Red Pandas anywhere but as dark figures up in the branches of the solitary enclosure tree.
But yesterday, two, yes two, that is all of the Red Pandas, were on the ground. So, to commemorate this and to firmly entrench myself in the good books after ticking the lovely haircut boxes, I took some photos and a bit of video of the Red Pandas as is shown below.
Comments now anonymously welcome!
Seems that I had managed set up this blog to only allow comments from registered users of one kind or another.
Thanks to, "Esmerelda of Oz", for pointing that out to me! So I have tweaked the relevant little bit of configuration which now means that anyone can now comment, however there is a side effect, in that I now have to vet each comment before allowing it onto the blog.
Anonymity 1-0 Me
as, I will have more work to do (sigh - ed).
Thanks to, "Esmerelda of Oz", for pointing that out to me! So I have tweaked the relevant little bit of configuration which now means that anyone can now comment, however there is a side effect, in that I now have to vet each comment before allowing it onto the blog.
Anonymity 1-0 Me
as, I will have more work to do (sigh - ed).
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