No.401 Of Churchill & Handbags

I'm reading Max Hasting's "Churchill The War Years" at the moment. Hastings claims that Churchill rather enjoyed the War in a kind of my-time-has-come sort of way. "History" he said "will be kind to me because I intend to make it".

It's easy to forget that Churchill was responsible for some really bad calls both in the early years of the War and before. He was, however, the last Prime Minister ever to have killed anyone in a war situation and was therefore a consummate soldier/warrior. His PA used to claim that whenever the Luftwaffe were overhead in London she'd stand as close to Churchill as possible because she felt so safe in his presence. I suppose that's different to a lot of leaders since. With Thatcher they used to say you always had to be at least a good handbag distance apart....

Anyway on with the week....

No.400 Of A Cat Skip and a Jump

I spent much of yesterday emptying my house into a rubbish skip. It's almost full but by no means am I almost finished. For the garage still contains stuff that needs either a new home or throwing 10 metres in the air in the direction of the hungry orange pair of jaws that awaits outside.

Today will be spent at work catching up on all the tasks I should have completed last week but couldn't because I was in London or Dublin or here but busy with other things. Cat Steven is my chosen artist to ease the pain of Sunday working along with, no doubt, many cups of peppermint tea.

Let's jump to it...

No.399 Of Tidying Up for the Weekend

It's been a long week but a great one at work. We opened up in GB with a great conference in London and followed up with a superb event yesterday in Dublin on Data Protection. I think we're all crawling to the finish line at 5p.m. today.

Next week we have Birmingham to cross off our tour itinerary followed by Manchester the week after that and then finally Leeds.

I've just taken delivery of a skip at home which means yippee dee I can empty my garage of loads of junk and get my MG back in its proper bed. At this rate I might have a normal household and life by Christmas!

No.398 Of London Calling

We opened with our first event in London yesterday after a rather agreeable dinner the night before in a Moroccan restaurant Covent Garden. We took no prisoners yesterday and it was good. Very good. The venue was great beaming T.V pictures of the conference everywhere. The speakers were all exceptionally good. The notes as usual, first class. The food delightful. Not a bad way to open up in a new jurisdiction though I say so myself.

No.397 Of Bad Dogs and an Englishman

I was a beautiful morning when I headed out to the pool today. 6.30a.m. is a great time to be up at a great time of the year. The mornings are fresh but not cold. The trees are glistening an Autumnal gold.

I did my statutory 20 lengths before racing back to the house to dash up the round and walk the neighbours golden lab. All was going well until on our return from the river walk she refused to release a large stick in her mouth which meant I couldn't get the lead back over her head. "Drop. Leave. Dead. Bad Dog" nothing seemed to work and she looked at me, passers by looked at me and those shooting by in cars no doubt wondered what the stand off was all about. Eventually I snapped the stick off either side of her mouth leaving enough room to get the lead on her and hurtled back to the house with her still firmly biting what was left of the stick. And I thought humans were meant to be stubborn.

I'm off with a couple of aforementioned humans to London this afternoon. Tomorrow marks the first day of Legal-Island in Britain and what a place to open at Oxford Circus, London. Bring it on. Let's do it.

No.396 Of Sticks and Stones

I'm babysitting the neighbour's dog, Isla, this weekend. I couldn't remember if I had to feed her or not this morning so I gave her the last of some apple pie I found in the neighbour's fridge. She looked delighted. (Isla that is. The neighbour is on holiday).

Isla is a mix between a labrador and a retriever. However, she's clearly got a complex about not being a full blooded retriever for when you walk her she shows no interest in any other dogs but spends all her time bringing things back to you. You get lost golf and tennis balls. You get old trainers and boots. You get large stones. You get an awful lot of fallen branches and sticks. And I mean an awful lot. This morning I soon got bored of throwing things for her and ignored all the stuff she deposited at my feet in the hope she'd do something else. Alas she simply took all of the flotsam and jetsam she found in the river to anyone else she could find in hope they'd do the casting for her. Fickle or what? Should have had the apple pie myself.

No.395 Of Buddies Past

I tried a new restaurant last night Hooligans in Talbot St Belfast. I met an old mucker there Maura whom I first met at University and then worked alongside at the Law Centre.

The food was exceptionally different no chips here and no "alf n alf" either. It was also very tasty too. The bread and butter pudding was to die for and yes probably as good as my Mum does possibly even better (sorry Mum!).

There was one thing that spoiled it however : the loud music. Straining to hear Maura over lots of Buddy Holly tracks made me feel a little deaf and in need of an ear trumpet or two to stick close to my head and point in her direction. Not a great feeling for someone of my age. Perhaps the solution is to wear a couple of those rinky dinky new motorbike helmets that come with headsets and two way radio. Marginally less embarrassingly than ear trumpets I suppose and far more fun.