Of Rustling Up a Good Story

At the beginning of the year as part of my goal setting I decided to change my reading strategy. The idea now is that every new book I pick up to read must be completely different to its predecessor. My last book was "Winning!" by the former England rugby coach, Clive Woodward. My latest is "The Other Side of the World" by Arthur C Clarke. I''ve never read any sci-fi before and I have to say I've been nicely surprised. He writes a great story. It's not as heavy on the brain as I though it might be and, as you might expect, the book takes the reader onto journeys and to places in your mind you might not otherwise get taken to.

Clarke is best known for the classic "2001 a Space Odyssey". I went to see this film a good few years ago in Dublin with a friend. Sat next to us was a guy who was eating a back of crisps. Normally, this would only irritate me but in front of a film that was intended to transport you to another world aided by some of the most wonderful classical music this world has ever produced I found it infuriating. I took lots of deep breaths thinking this was probably me being irritable again. But I wasn't the only one. Unprompted, my friend suddenly seemed to snap and turned to him and said politely "Please would you mind not rustling that bag it's very noisy and distracting?". Caught at the very point of retrieving his next handful of crisps,
the poor fellow was so shocked and embarrassed that he kept his hand in the bag for the rest of the film too scared to take it out in case it made any further noise. Perhaps we were the only two in the history of cinema to come out of 2001 Space Odyssey laughing...

Of Talkin the Talk

Yey! The week's barely begun and I've managed 40 lengths of the pool or put another way 1 km of forward motion through water. Credit for this must go largely to my self appointed swimming coach, Brucie baby, (featured middle of the picture) who swam with me all of the way this morning. Bruce fell off a roof a good few years ago and can hardly walk but he can swim well and boy can he talk! (-most of it in a hard Ulster twang that takes some deciphering!)

For some reason the first 10 lengths of the pool are just hell. The next 10 are tough but easier. Thereafter your muscles seem to fall into a rhythm of their own and you feel like you can go on forever.

We're now talking about entering an open water race off the north coast of Northern Ireland. It's held in April and you're not allowed a wet suit but you do have a guy in a canoe alongside you in case hypothermia sets in apparently. I wonder if swimming with a hot water bottle strapped to your under carriage is considered cheating. Must ask my coach....

Of Jacqueline, Jackie and Jackson

As I type this I'm listening to Puccini's "O Mio Babbino Caro" played by Ophelie Gaillard. I'm not sure I've heard anything quite so soothing and easy on the ears in a long while. I don't think I've heard so much passion in someone's playing since Jacqueline du Pre did her legendary recording of Elgar's Cello Concerto.

I seem to be having something of a musical weekend without really trying. Yesterday evening one of my neighbours, Jackie, called round with two CDs for me of music by a few brass instruments. She plays a French Horn and is keen for me to have her turn up at a Legal-Island event and play either speakers or delegates into the conference suite on her Horn. So far I've listened to about 30 tunes. They're all great but I'm not convinced there's any there that really suit a legal conference. Mozart's Rondo Horn Concerto in E Flat (that's the one where you can't help but see foxes and hounds darting about everywhere) stands out most so far but will it work? I think we may chicken out here and simply pipe some Michael Jackson tune through the loud speakers instead....

Of Vital Statistics

I swam another 30 lengths in the pool today. That's the 5th day in a row which means my calculations are as follows 30 x 5 x 25 metres = 3,750 metres which, if I keep this up, = good bye flab or should that be "Au Revoir"?

Of Dinner, Dinner & More Dinner

I went for a business dinner last night. Guests included the Minister for Employment and Learning. The poor critta was sat right next to me for a good part of the evening so he if he didn't know who Legal-Island was beforehand he certainly did by the time he escaped from the table. I liked the man a lot. He was witty, funny and very self-deprecating. I felt for him too. He's been in the post for just 5 five months but we were giving him a hard time for stuff he has little or no control over. He has to face elections in a few months too so I couldn't help but wonder whether he thought it at all worth his while getting on top of his new departmental brief.

Still on the subject of dinners I'm entertaining next Monday again. One of my goals this year was to organise 12 dinner parties. This is No.3 which means two sets of guests have already gone through the process and survived to tell the tale - though what tale they tell about their experience is a matter of great conjecture. I'm planning to do Celery and Onion soup followed by Vegetable Crumble finished off by Rhubarb and Apply Crumble. In fact, come to think of it that's too much Crumble - better get the recipe book out and try something else over the weekend.

The best Crumble I ever ate was at school. It was topped by pink custard which though ghastly to look at was actually very nice. In fact, I think that was the best thing about that school. A recent chance encounter has prompted me to think a lot about my school days and why they were so bloody awful. Maybe they weren't because memories play tricks on you - although the memory of being caned for forgetting my 10p to pay for the woodwork I was taking home is still strong and very real. I wonder where that teacher is now - in a retirement home or a prison?

Hey ho school days hey - nothing like em.

Of the BBC n Me

I was watching "The Human Planet" last night whilst texting a friend of mine on my mobile. I don't think I've ever watched such a beautiful programme and shouted out "Wow" involuntarily so many times in one hour. It's packed full of beautiful cinematography and lovely shots of people enjoying Mother Earth. Well done the BBC say I.

A friend of mine from Spain used to complain about the British a lot. She said they had a poor sense of style and I think she might have been right. She said they were rotten cooks and had an awful diet and she was right. She said the Brits had questionable taste when it came to internal decor (carpets in the bathroom used to horrify her) and how they behaved after a night out drinking was nothing short of a national disgrace. Eventually I lost patience and asked her what if anything she liked about Britain and her immediate reply surprised me : "The BBC - it's the most fantastic institution in the world" And she was right.

Of Testing Personalities

A while ago my coach asked me to complete a personality questionniare and promptly sent me through the relevant web link. I made a mistake and tried to complete it whilst on a call to a business partner in Dublin. Multitasking - guys yes I know...Apparently I clicked all the wrong radio and submit buttons and the psychologists who analyse these things say they have seen nothing like it. I'm allowed one more go. If I mess up again I will be the only person in history ever to have failed a personality test :). Oh the pressure.....