No.411 Of Tricks of Nature & of Memory

Northern Ireland is looking so beautiful at the moment. I think this is my favourite time of year when the leaves turn a fabulous gold and organge before finally falling to the ground acknowledging that Winter has finally made it's chilling appearance. I would, or I suppose should, say that summer is my favourite time of year but we don't seem to get them in NI any more or when we do they're a huge disappointment.
I'm wondering if we ever did actually get decent weather in the UK and perhaps my memory of boiling hot summers as a kid in Devon is largely illusionary. But then again I remember trying to sit in our black Austin A30 after coming back from the beach in my swimming trunks and getting a parched bum because the seat was so hot as I sat down.

Also I remember as a kid going to visit my Nan and Grandad in Guernsey. She would go down the market to buy a lobster and then boil it when still alive before serving it in a lovely salad. The terrible screaming noise it used to make I can remember to this day. Or at least I thought I could. You see many years ago I met a guy at Glasgow University who was doing a PhD in, and I kid you not, the rapid eye movements of crabs. He assured me that it's physically impossible for either a lobster or a crab to scream as it dies (or any other time for that matter) because it's just not in its physiology to do so.

Funny what tricks memories play on you innit?

No.413 Of Blonde Blighted Barman

I went out for dinner last night at Drennans in Belfas. I ordered the awful sounding pasta and beetroot dish being the only veggie main course on the menu. It was delicious. The service was exceptional too. Smiles and eye contact combined with real knowledge of the food and the wines. It sounds so easy when you write it out. So why can so few restaurants produce it?

I suppose you might say it was something of a corporate night out as my company were a businessman and another lawyer who early on at least was as happy to talk shop as not. As the evening developed we gradually left work behind and began to relax.

We ended up at Cafe Vauderville. At the bar I was surrounded by blondes. Not because they gravitate towards me I supposed but the club just seemed full of them. Blonde blight in amongst all the black Halloween costumes proved quite a visual spectacle. However, trying to get service from barmen when surrounded by blondes is an almost impossible task. I tried to flash some heavy looking notes like they might get a serious tip if they acknowledged that I was and had been first in the queue for the last 20 minutes but it didn't do any good.

On the balcony were a number of dancers led by another blonde who was something of a diva - part Diana Dors part Devine. She was rather sexy although I couldn't help but wonder if she was actually a man. I think "she" may have been.

Once finally served (by a female barman who suddenly appeared) I managed to deliver the three pints to my mates and then get completely lost in the scrum of people around us all. Just after midnight I decided to go leaving the blondes, the Diva and my muckers to it.

Tough game this clubbing.

No.412 Of Recipes for Work and Play

It's Friday which began for me with 20 lengths of the Antrim pool followed by a bear sized bowl of porridge sprinkled with lots of anti-oxidant raisins and berries. If it goes pear shaped from here on in at least the day started well.

And as for the day ahead it's a never ending list of things to do which have gradually crept up on me since Monday. As I eliminated one duty so another two would appear to the point that now I can look forward to nothing but a weekend of solid work. I've checked the forecast for tomorrow and Sunday and it's good. Good for work that is : rain for the two days.

If I stayed at home I'd only feel compelled to do more on the house. It needs a TV in the new extension area, door frames painted and a chef in the kitchen. The latter bit is me. One of my objectives this year is to learn 6 dishes good enough to serve to guests with a very real expectation that they might survive the ordeal.

So much to do and so little time.

No.411 Of Model Press Releases

I went modelling today. Yes you read it right modelling in a photo shoot for a press release going out this afternoon all about Fit Notes from doctors. I played the role of the patient being assessed as fit or otherwise for work. A neighbour Kathy, was in as the doctor checking my pulse and blood pressure and a marketing officer from the Occupational Health offices was in as the Occupational Health consultant. As you may have gathered it was a rather low budget affair but who knows where the images will end up and to what avail. We don't that's for sure.....

No.410 Of Manu in Situ

I stayed at the Lowry Hotel on Monday night. It's the only five star hotel in Manchester and you can tell it has a touch of class as soon as you arrive. A doorman appeared to open the taxi door "Mr Phillips? Welcome. We've been expecting you" he said. Nice. Very nice I thought.

It is also known as "The Manu" hotel for it is here that Manchester United do all their strategic planning and their hosting of guests and dignitaries not to mention off field playing around that keeps the tabloids in business.

My room was huge with a bed big enough I thought for at least one footballer and two others. It was supremely comfortable and really difficult to get of the following morning. Just 45 more minutes I thought when the alarm sounded at 6a.m.. I think I took nearer 90.

One of the hotel staff (who asked to remain anonymous) informed us that the footballers all disappear to their hotel rooms in the afternoon for an afternoon kip. The rooms by the way didn't give you much change out of £150 a go. Littered round the hotel were the odd football fan waiting patiently with an autograph book and the odd glamorous female wanting to get noticed by more than a man with an eye for a blog.

All this in a week in which Rooney was confirmed as getting £250,000 a week. Mr Phillips left in the taxi wondering how on earth Roo and his mates keep themselves grounded. Truth is they probably don't care.

No.409 Of First Class Ways to the Weekend

It's going to be a mad day today with three meetings this morning then one at lunch and a whole load of things to do in between. At least the weekend is coming soon and it's mine. All mine.

Last night I returned from Dublin on the train. Next time I'm going to pay the extra and go in First Class. For yesterday we were squeezed in like sardines and the train didn't seem to start to unload until Newry and half way home. Opposite me were two teenagers coughing and spluttering are through the journey without putting their hands to their mouth (a capital crime when sat in front of me). The lady on my right hemming me in thought she could add to my discomfort by subjecting me to her favourite music of the week from her MP3 player though quaffed by her silly little ear pieces for head phones. By the end of the journey there was no-one left in the carriage except a yob of a hoddie with his feet on the seat opposite. Boy was I grumpy by the time we got to Antrim Central.

So deep breaths return to good karma and lets do Friday...

No.408 Of Mobbing Around

Business contacts are like buses. You wait for ages and nothing then, suddenly, you get 5 in a row. Yesterday they came at me and I was mobbed. Oh I do like a good mobbing!

Business hotels are great but the breakfasts are too good. And oh I do like a good breakfast. So when I check in its Mr. Phillips and when I check out it's Mr Phillips + 1 that 1 being a breakfast pot belly. But not this time. For this week I chose a hotel not for its parking or its location but because of its leisure facilities and, in particular, its pool. This morning I did 30 lengths before breakfast and yesterday much the same.

Today it's back to more networking joining a group of trainee mediators one of whom I've been trying to meet for a good while. Lets hope he likes a good mobbing...