22 April 2002

There is absolutely no excuse for letting 15 months go by without a diary entry. I either haven't got a life, so therefore have nothing to report, or I have, therefore no time to write diary entries.... which alternative sounds better?

Well, significant recent news is that on Saturday David and I finally finished the rebuild of my little 3-wheeled open sports car, the Triking. Its been off the road for five years after a pretty nasty accident, where it tripped and fell over and broke one of its front legs. This happened about the time my marriage fell apart, and I had neither the time, money, emotional or indeed physical energy to do anything about it, so it sat under the carport getting sadder and rustier with each passing year.

Then last year, I girded my wossnames and got stuck in, repairing the front mudguard, replacing the front suspension including upper and lower ball joints (affording the opportunity of walking into the local motor factors and uttering the wonderful phrase "I need a ball joint cracker". I think we all do, sometimes), and taking the opportunity to get struts and stays rechromed. David got stuck into the bodywork, rubbing it down and respraying, and has been maniacally polishing everything polishable. Also lending moral and physical support when bits won't come apart from their respective pieces, and/or won't go back. Its got new carpet, and the connoly leather cleaned up a treat with a jar of Swarzfega hand cleaner (its all skin, innit?). We even resprayed the chassis before bolting all the front end and wheels back on. Its had new hand-made cables and just about every electrical subsystem replaced, and our friend Paul the Moto Guzzi engineer gave its carburettors a complete overhaul.

The MOT test was a giggle, with the whole garage wandering over to heap friendly scorn on my mechanical skills, ("You're rubbish, you are. These wheels are gonna fall straight back off again" - they were, too...) but awarding the certificate, eventually. They still can't believe I managed to drive it over there without any brakes. "What else is a gearbox for"?, I answered innocently, and "Besides, I had to give you enough ammunition for pouring scorn on my mechanical skills".

Now its looking pretty spic and span, and the denizens of Wadhurst were treated yesterday to the sight of David and I whizzing about in it grinning like loons. Next job, the Mosquito. Now that really *is* a mess, pore little thing...

8 January 2001

<sigh> Well, here we are back in sunny-but-significantly-less-than-warm Britain again. At least we didn't get delayed on the homeward flight, although the twelve hours scheduled wait in Bali Denpasar's transit lounge was a tad wearing. Whereas the flight out... Hang on, I'll put this in order.

We were due to take off from Gatwick Airport (or Gatport Airwick, as Nick, who used to work there, not particularly affectionately calls it - btw, thanks for the lift, Nick) at 7pm on Dec 16th. We checked in at 5-ish (pretty good for me, huh? David likes being early) and boarded on time. We then sat there for a bit. And another bit. And then a bit more. At some stage, A Voice told us that there was ... well, not exactly a problem ... but the captain wanted one of the engines checked out. So we waited a tad more (quite a large tad, as tads go), whilst the passengers seated on the appropriate side of the plane reported the progress of various bods scurrying up and down a ladder plonked beneath one of the engines, wielding flashlights and spanners and scratching their heads quite a bit. After another tad, the length of which I've conveniently forgotten in self defence, The Voice came back on the PA system and announced that we would be unloaded to allow us to wait more comfortably in the Airwick departure lounge. So off we dutifully shuffled, not without some disgruntlement and mumbling.

Status reports in the departure lounge were not very forthcoming, but at least we could smoke, and there were food vouchers for those who could stand queueing for three quarters of an hour to be allowed back past the security checks into the main concourse, where they found that the only hostelery open to cash in said vouchers was MacDonalds. Glad we didn't bother. Those with travel insurance noted (with a touch of schadenfreunde for those who didn't) that four hours had elapsed, and therefore their insurance payments had kicked in. Eventually the queue to get back in to the departure lounge cleared, and we were herded back on to the plane, where we sat awaiting developments. And sat. And, to pass the time, sat some more. More (or perhaps it was the same) people scurried up and down the ladder,and after an hour or so The Voice told us that the fuel had to be swapped from one wing tank to the other, necessitating the submission of a new load balance sheet to the Airwick authorities, who had then to process it. Six and a half hours after the advertised time, GA970 took off from Gatwick and set off for Bali via Bangkok, arriving there (predictably enough) six and a half hours late, and missing the connecting flight to Oz.

After milling about for a while (as a planeload, we were pretty good at this by now) we were issued with visas for Bali, loaded onto mini buses and delivered to the Bali Gardenia Resort at 4:30am, local time. Nice place. I can certainly reccommend it. David and I decided to hop straight into the pool (well, after changing into appropriate togs), where a couple of smiling staff members offerred to turn on the flood lights for us (we refused, poiltely but firmly) and open the bar (we accepted, ditto). The next twenty or so hours passed extremely pleasantly, until the minibus returned to allow us to resume the tediousness that is long haul flying, cattle class style.

My brother Snidge ferried us down to the parent's beach house (to which they have very sensibly retired), and we spent the next two weeks camping in their back garden, under a gum tree (yep, the story is true; the tree from which a possum did micturate upon the tent). My father seemed reluctant to accept that this was a reasonable alternative to sleeping in one of the very comfortably established spare bedrooms, but hell, we were on an adventure. I caught him muttering several time "bloody mad poms" as he passed by, by which I assume that he thinks I have somehow been infected with pommishness in some way. I scowled. David laughed.

Sister Jo & Ted came down for Christmas (Jo and I sang for mum's church choir at midnight mass on Christmas Eve - mum's a staunch Presbyterian, but the Catholic Church has wheedled her out of retirement to present a choral feast every so often), and we all had fun playing with nephew Lachlan's presents when he allowed Snidge and Alana to chauffeur him down on Boxing Day. A couple of days after that, David and I felt energised enough to borrow the Rav and visit Wilson's Prom and the Grand Ridge brewery, staying in the pub in Meeniyan (watch out for their monster steak sandwiches, if you're ever in the vicinity).

We spent the last five days (including New Year's Eve) in Melbourne, helping Minna look after her sister's very nice gaff (thanks, Lauren) whose chief delights at this time (with the temperature finally hitting the high thirties) included a pool and one of those fridges whose door dispenses cubed or crushed ice in a bottomless sort of way. Janet, Crissy, Fi, Jamo, Chris, Danny, Guy, Jo, Kybes, Dunc and Stacey helped keep the poolside looking occupied (I wonder whether I will put the photos of us doing Esther Williams impersonations onto the site?)

The trip back included a 12 hour wait for the connecting flight in Bali, for which we initially intended leaving the airport and tootling around for a bit, but decided to spend in the transit area when we discovered that we would have to check our baggage out and back in again. I think we'll go for the check out and in option if the circumstance arises again - 12 hours is about 6 hours too much, we were completely knackered at the end of it, and still facing an 8 hour flight to Bangkok and a 13 hour flight to the UK.

What is the received wisdom? I think it is that travelling west is much easier jet-lag-wise than traveling east, but I've always found the opposite to be true. Maybe its because I always seems to travel west to start a holiday, and east means that I have to go back to work. I certainly took a week to get to the point where I could stay awake past 8 o'clock in the evening once we got home. Then again, maybe I've got the received wisdom arse-about.

Anyhow, that's it for that holiday, but I'm certainly not going to wait another 3 years for the next one. Apologies to everyone we didn't get to see. Come and visit us instead, huh?

12 December 2000

Five days to go 'till Jaynee & David will be on a plane winging our way to sunny Oz, where we confidently expect shedsful of tucker and drinkie-poos to be hanging around pathetically begging us to consume them. Its a tough life, but someone's gotta ... etc ... etc. We're probably not going to catch up with everyone whilst we're out there, 'cos I've been gagging for a holiday for yonks now, and I basically want to lie in the sun, reading books and giving in to the tucker/drinkie-poos requests, so apologies in advance if we don't see you. First holiday in three years. A tad overdue, some would say. I certainly would.

Messiah at the Royal Albert Hall on November 24th - I booked a box again, and we drank quite reasonable quantities of bubbly whilst singing lustily. Well, I sang lustily. David and Nick rumbled something approximating the bass line during the Hal Chorus, Lorna dipped between sop and alto as the feeling took her, and Jan kept her trap shut apart from snorting when David waggled his eyebrows at me during the "All we like sheep" bit, which I was stupid enough to tell him beforehand that we had substituted alternative words for in school. Those of you who sang the Messiah in school will probably have done something similar - d'ye remember? "All we like sheep .... All we like sheep .... and mi-i-i-i-int sauce ..." Needless to say, David had threatened to do Welsh sheep-farmer-sheep-shagging mimes during this. He bottled out, as I'd put him in the front row of the box.

Work is chugging along quite well. We have 30-odd consultants (err, I meant that as "approximately 30" consultants, but thinking about it, a few of them have to be odd as well. Statistically speaking, of course. Not because I employed some of them) working on client sites, mainly in London, but also in Kazhakstan and Algeria. Alison and I are the only people who work in our own office here in Mayfair (yep, I'm updating my web site at work again). Alison is my PA, and has not only become very good at working out when I need a cuppa or a cigarette, but is also the best Mahjjong player I've ever come across, Wendy & Lorna included! She is also currently scanning in some photos to add to this site (check the Four Keys page) and so I've got a reasonable chance of sending out some Christmas cards in time this year. Yeah, Jaynee. Sure. We're taking a magnum up on the London Eye tomorrow, so it'll be interesting to see whether we mutually blackmail each other successfully - she dislikes her photo being taken almost as much as I. (The London Eye is that big ferris wheel thingy on the Thames. The Thames is that river that ... you get the picture. Why should the tourists have all the fun, we figure).

Finally, for those of you who knew that David has been quite ill this year, we are pleased to report that he's all better now. Thanks to all for your help during a few difficult patches.

Roll on Saturday! I know its Garuda, but I've decided I like the idea of taking loads of time to get anywhere, and stopping loads of places whilst we're doing it. No, really, I mean it. And yes, we will be dropping aspirin and slapping on the nicotine patches for the non-smoking bits. Poor David. His first long-haul, and I'm making him do it cattle class on Garuda. Hey, there are compensations. He gets to sit next to me for 28 hours.

8 August 2000

Well. Where do I start? Welcome to Flake, Rhody, SmallGodMatt and fellow author Guido. There, that's a good start.

One of the reasons I don't update this diary is that I feel guilty about doing it at work : ) The real reason, of course, is that I'm living a spectacularly hedonistic lifestyle, and I'm just too nice to tell you all about it, 'cos you might feel jelly beans. Alternatively, I might still be the same lovable lazy git you all remember. OK, quick news flash before I try and sort out this blasted internal I-Modem... Jaynee has a new job at European Project Consultants (jaynee@europeanprojects.com), with a nice office in Mayfair 'n' stuff, and is well chuffed with it. Jaynee is even more chuffed with the fact that David has moved in with her and cats, but not as chuffed as Honor, who is getting ridiculously possesive about he whom she considers to be her human. To the extent that she's even growling at Greebo to protect David from him. Made me roll up, that one did. Great big lad like David, being defended by itty bitty kitty who's normally scared of her own shadow...

Needles to say, David is not displeased himself (yes, I did mean to spell it as "Needles"; its a quip. Stay on your toes, you lot). Last tidbit - David and I are planning on being in Oz for Christmas (the cats' godfather Rog will be in house- and cat-sitting mode), so hope to catch up with loads of you then. Right. Back to that Bl**&&£$"@@@###ed modem.

7 March 2000

Gotta tell you about this one. First piece of info: As you know, Greebo and Honor are 'inside' cats, and therefore have a litter tray. The unmentionables in this tray get scooped up by yours truly into a placcy (carrier) bag, and deposited in the Sulo (dustbin). Sometimes, when I couldn't be bothered to put shoes on to walk out to the bin over the pea beach (gravel), or its cold outside and I haven't got much in the way of clothes on, I just leave the bag outside my front door (which is at the end of a private driveway, not on the road), and bung it in the bin when I next go outside.

Second piece of info: My mate Tony, who is now retired, walks up to the shop every morning to get the paper. He also gets papers for the favoured few, and drops them off on his way back (this includes the Four Keys, which is at least a quarter of a mile out of his way, but he's just one of Nature's nice guys). When he added me to his list for the Sunday paper (bliss - paper in bed without having to get up), I was quite chuffed (pleased), so I try to make an effort to leave a bit of breakfast out for him on Sunday morning. David and I have been experimenting with Sunday breakfasts (Canadian maple syrup poured over bacon on a stack of fresh pancakes, eggs Benedict on muffins, the standard croissants and smoked salmon, full English fry-up, you know the sort of thing), and Tony has scored hot cross buns, croissants, etc over the last few weeks. Placed in a bag or a plastic container, outside the front door, which he then takes home and shares with his wife Joan.

Tony is on the Four Keys crib team, as are David and I. We went down to the Keys last night for a crib match and Tony beamed at me and insisted on buying me a pint. "Bloody marvellous, that was" he said. "Huh?" sez I. "That muesli" he said "Joan loved it." I stared blankly for a bit, then started gibbering in horror, 'cos I hadn't managed to get up in time to put any brekkers out last Sunday, but it had been very cold on Saturday night, and then the whole pub exploded with laughter. Its going to take me a long time to live that one down.

18 February 2000

26 October 1999

Little blister Jo is getting along famously at http://www.paterson-pettus.com.au tho' they haven't got her pic on the web page yet. Shame, Shame.

Trevor Sivies has been busy - see his home page at http://www.mindspring.com/~tjsivies and the site at http://www.fastcamusa.com

Jaynee is now the webmaster at http://www.post26.com . I've had another birthday, and am now presumably wiser. Dunno how you're s'posed. to tell, tho'. Am also going out with rather splendid chap called David, who does not have access to the internet. I'm spending a week in Milan on business soon - any tips for places to see\eat? Feel free to flood me with suggestions, Duvianis. I'm still not in the top 15 list in The Lounge, but I've had a few requests to join me in The Kitchen.

Anyone not yet using SETI@home? Download it from http://setiathome.ssl.berkeley.edu/ . You can join my team, if you want (d'ya wanna be in my gang, my gang, my gang... Gods, I'm sooo competetive). Right, that's enough for now. Don't want to spoil you.

28 July 1999

23 June 1999

13 April 1999

5 April 1999

26 March 1999

15 March 1999

26 February 1999

21 January 1999

3 January 1999

27 December 1998

17 December 1998

4 December 1998

18 November 1998

2 November 1998

27 October 1998

21 October 1998

13 October 1998

12 October 1998

11 October 1998