Mr M and fields of mud

I did not get to write my diary entry last night as Mr M has got weaker and has been given only a couple of days to live, so we headed off to see him and collect his son who had spent the day travelling up on trains from London. So we had to battle up the track to Mr M’s house in the dark and rain, but the trusty car made it again, although I am not sure that the trusty car is entirely happy about going to Mr M’s house.  We will be heading off to see Mr M again a bit later on, so we are slightly in limbo waiting for some news and making a few phone calls.

At present it is rather muddy outside so it is difficult to do anything such as poke about in holes with pointy sticks as the holes are full of water and/or mud. The ground is also far too muddy to chase Zombies about and wave pointy sticks at them, particularly as I do not really possess suitable mud fairing footwear to run about in mud.  I am told that the hospital would not entirely be happy if I turn up to see Mr M covered in mud and water with a pointy stick with bits of Zombie hanging off it and they might make me wait outside.

I have also got my White Falcon out of its case (it is not a falcon but a guitar) as it is some time since it has been out of its case and guitars do like to see some daylight and get a chance to stretch their legs (sorry pegs or is it strings). It is entirely the wrong guitar to take into a muddy garden too as it is sort of the wrong colour and as near as damn it the diametrical opposite of mud.

I may return later depending on events and time.

The death of Lou Reed, a Raven, a Storm, Aliens and a Walk on the Wild Side.

I was up a ladder this morning sawing bits of tree that needed to be removed; normally I would not do this, but it was a bit blustery and the big storm has not yet arrived (but was due any minute or so I was led to believe) so to be on the safe side I was volunteered. As it happened it was like the old pirate days the tree would sway about a bit, the ladder creaking away and me shouting at the wind to do its stuff, a grand way to spend a Sunday.  Anyway rather annoyingly I also had to chop all the bits of tree into smaller bits of tree and put them in a big pile which is far less fun.

While I was doing this Mr Jones  was passing, he said he was off into the woods as he says the big storm is in fact cover for an alien invasion of aliens from the planet Windyplace, one of those new planets they keep finding these days with that telescope where the trusty old cleaner retired. Apparently since she left the telescope lenses have been getting a bit dusty, although strangely this has also led to the discovery of loads of new planets.

I have just heard that Lou Reed has died aged 71, he was good and he did a really good version of The Raven, which reminds me that we saw two Yellow Wagtails today, apparently ravens and wagtails according to Mr Jones are a sure sign of aliens.  And that the gentle tapping at your door as referred to in The Raven is not a Zombie or a Skeleton or an annoying child wearing a plastic bin liner asking for small change or cheques or the wind or even a Raven, but is in fact An Alien from the opiate shores.

Anyway I am off to watch for the storm and Mr Jones is off to watch for aliens and we both think it likely to be a bit of a Walk on the Wild Side tonight . . . . . . . . 

  

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Glastonbury and Rolling Stones, Zombies and Top Gear

I have been outside today strengthening a weak spot in the Zombie defence system as a smallish one managed to climb through a small hole and attack me; luckily I have recently done my Zombie defence classes at school so was able to fend the beast off. I say beast it looked a little like one of those Rolling Stones chaps who are playing music in a big field down South in a place called Glastonbury. Only if it was one of them, then they are smaller than they appear on the television and much older but not as scary. . . .  I managed to patch up the hole with hazel branches and some other bits and pieces but I can hear the faint sound of music from the dark distance past drifting over the fields which I can only assume is an old Zombie war dance of some sort calling the massed armies of the ancient Zombie hoards together. Luckily there is talk of a few showers tomorrow and Zombies hate mud they keep falling over.

While on the subject of terrible ancient things from the past I have just returned from watching Top Gear the rather popular motoring entertainment show, I know what you are thinking and I am very sorry, but we all have our little weak spots in culture and mine is Top Gear. I am always amused by the fact folk get so upset by them saying silly things and acting like small children but that is what makes it so popular. And as dad points out if we all drove like mad men we would go through a set of tyres every week which is silly and expensive.  And everyone thinks they can drive the Reasonably Priced Car faster than all the celeb’s who get to drive it, it is the human ego; but I for one know I could drive it slower than anyone else if I was allowed too because that is the sort of chap I am . . . . 

Dick Barton Special Agent and the Zombie Archers of Ambridge, Art and Chickens.

Today turned into an interesting day what with one thing and another, it got off to a great start with Bacon and pancakes for breakfast with maple syrup which is a good way to start any day. Then it got a bit noisy when a tractor and trailer turned up next door, and it now appears that the folk who live behind us and keep rare breed chickens have decided to do the re-enactment of the film Chicken Run and have added yet more chicken houses. It will be interesting to see how good rare breed chickens are at making aeroplanes. Anyway it is a bit of a worry as they seem to have enough chicken houses now for thousands of the beasts, which means a seriously large aeroplane.

I then helped the Ghost Writer with his Radiogram based PC gaming machine he is sorting for Master Ja;, which is apparently brilliant as long as you only play games based on a pre 1955 world, so Dick Barton Special Agent and the Zombie Archers of Ambridge should work really well.

Then this afternoon we went off a preview to see Auntie Karen who is exhibiting her needle felt pictures and hats at a not too far away gallery and events place, we got to chat to Auntie Karen who took my picture and told me that it would be useful to give to the police if any trouble started, I tried to smile a lot but still looked suspicious in the photo. Mr Ian the Musical Hat Maker was there also giving moral support for Auntie Karen, and drinking tea and telling all the punters tales of life and the universe (Mr Ian can tell a good yarn and will keep folk amused for hours). In fact Mr Ian was accompanying John Hegley at the same location only a few days ago, Auntie Karen and Mr Ian the musical Hat Maker are a talented couple.

There was loads of other interesting art there including sculpture, painting. and I even found a really cool looking Meccano Beam Engine, I did ask before I took a photo, it is bad form to go round taking photos in an art gallery without asking. Anyway there were loads of people there who I knew so that was cool, although one person did say everyone looked shorter and fatter that she remembered (it was not me PHEW) apparently this is also bad form in an art gallery during a preview.

We then ended the day with a Chinese takeaway from the Castle of the Bishop so I have eaten loads, which means that last statement about being shorter and fatter is sort of true well half true as I am still the same height.

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the Impenetrable Defence Trench and Rose's Pawn Shop

Well it has been a lovely day today, in fact it has been the sunniest day of the year so far, something I can say with a certain degree of certainty because the solar panels on the roof has generated just under eighteen kilowatts so far today and although the sun is now vanishing fast at the time of writing this are still producing about 300 watts.

As those of you who read yesterdays diary entry will know we were off out at a musical shindig last night with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane in was in the Priest Weston village hall, now this is not a large village hall and Priest Western itself is a tiny place up on a hill accessible by little single track roads. The parking for the village hall is the farmers working yard opposite the village hall, so we were not sure what to expect really, because it is hardly the sort of venue frequented by major touring bands. But it was a really great evening; the band, called Rose's Pawn Shop, play country rock and had flown in from California only 48 hours earlier and this was their first UK gig (I think). And I have to say they were one of the best bands we have heard in years, and as dad is really old he has been around for loads of years. So I will say if you get a chance to go and see Rose's Pawn Shop play then it is well worth while, dad even bought their CD’s and he is well mean normally.

Their web site is Rose's Pawn Shop

Also in passing I mentioned I was digging a defensive trench to keep out zombies (you cant be too cautious with zombies) well I was back at it again today at first these things look like fun but then you realize that a defensive trench to stop zombies is trickier than it looks, although there is no denying that zombies are not the brightest sparks in the world. But they are persistent little beasts and you can’t rely on a dog eating them, as the dog says himself, he only likes the chewy ones, and the crunchy ones and those with creamy centres don’t taste the same, so he has a habit of ignoring those ones. I also did some clever engineering with the deep dark damp muddy hole which still needs loads of work doing on it but we are all sticking our fingers in our ears and going LA LA LA LALA LAL ALLALLLALALLLA a lot. OK yes I connected the long defensive trench to the dark damp muddy hole . . . . .AH YUCK, well no zombie with any sense is going to attempt to cross over that defence trench it is almost impenetrable.

You notice I said almost this is because when I was building it and then connected it to the dark damn muddy hole I discovered I was in fact  on the wrong side of the impenetrable defence trench which had two cats looking at me and meowing because they wanted food on the other side. So I was forced into crossing the impenetrable defence trench which was not nice and I got a bit muddy and manky . . . . YUCK, mum said IDIOT and dad turned the hosepipe on me although he did say he thought I was a Zombie with a soft creamy middle what with the smell and the mud. 

OK that’s it I am off now to do nothing . . . . . . 

Music and the archaeological dig for shins

We are off to a little shindig tonight at a village hall with Mr Charlie and Miss Jane, I assume by the name it must be some sort of archaeological dig for shins . . . . AH mum has said IDIOT and that it is a musical shindig? To me that’s sounds even stranger if we are searching for shins I would like to know how we are meant to tell a musical one from an ordinary everyday one  . . . . . AH mum has said IDIOT again  . . . . . . . . Oooooooooo hang on mum is explaining. . . . . . . . . . . .WHAT?

So exactly how can a shindig be a small musical event in a village hall in the wilds of the Welsh border hills, who came up with that name it completely misleading.

The point is though, I have very little time to write and may not be in a position to write when I return as it will probably be later and I will be tired. Not from leaping about because I fall over if I try doing that, and not from drinking as I don’t drink, what with being the Young Eccentric Child of cyberspace, more as the result of digging a long defensive trench between us and the wood to the side of our house as the zombies are moving about what with the first signs of spring and the like.

OK that’s it for now as I am not allowed to go to a shindig covered in mud so must go and de-mud myself. . . . . . . . . .

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The Weather Vane a helicopter and the Ghost Writer

Today started with some blue sky, this was a bit of a shock, although it did not last, and so it is very wet again now. But while it was sunny we noticed that the weather vane on the roof was a bit loose and flopping about rather badly, so after a quick game of Paper Scissors Stone the looser had to climb up and fix it. In the wind on a wet roof so who ever did it would need to not only be very bad at playing  Paper Scissors Stone, but also as mum would put it an IDIOT.  It was quite windy on the roof but I was able to undertake all the required repairs to keep it in place for the winter, to tell the truth I don’t think these things are designed for tropical storms, hurricanes, and 24/7 rain. I am sure they were originally placed on roofs as a compliment to fluffy clouds in a blue sky with a nice gentle spring breeze. 

Then after the rain started I was once again confined to the house, but spent a bit of time with the remote controlled helicopter practicing my skills in cat herding, splitting them into two groups and driving half of them into the kitchen and the other half into the living room. I know I should really do this with sheep but I was told off for getting the dog to round up a few dozen to practice with. It is interesting but a sleep looks small on the side of a mountain but get a dozen of them into your living room and they take up a lot of room. Making sheep herding within a house rather unpractical as they can barely move; and they eat the curtains, sheep are stupid and can’t tell the difference between a meadow full of flowers and a curtain full of flowers.

In other events I have helped a bit with a jigsaw (not the ones that cuts wood in half but a picture made of bits) although apparently super gluing the parts in place is not normally done, particularly when you have put the bit in the wrong place. I also helped with a jigsaw (not the picture made of bits but the one you cut wood in half with) as we are trying to hide the ceramic tiles in the kitchen, the general view is they need to go so the plan is to replace them with tongue and groove panelling which will be painted. It appears that all the work will be allocated in a democratic process based on Paper Scissors Stone, maybe this would be the way to select politicians it would be so much cheaper and just as effective. Although based on the theory that the looser has to be Prime Minister, I think I would be stuck there for life which would be awful.

I have also found a rather dodgy bit of recording of the Ghost Writer singing, it is a bit crackly but that was me trying to get him to stop. You know what he is like when he starts singing and playing musical instruments. Still it was back in the good old days of analogue recording when folk played real interments rather than a PC full of software. 

  

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The Ghost Writer and his band . . . Sound and the Drum Machine

Today I have done very little because it is Christmas Eve, so I thought after managing to get a bit of drumming uploaded on to Youtube yesterday I would have another go today. But this was a much older piece of music, you see years ago before the Ghost Writer was a Ghost Writer he was just a Ghost and he made an album. It was his strange reclusive band  Sound and the Drum Machine that consisted of just him because he is too grumpy to play with other people, but he discovered that musicy folk all thought they should get free stuff and in general people did not want to actually pay for their music. And bare in mind this is quite a long time ago before the days of the instant downloads to an ipod. So the Ghost Writer did something that was good but also bad, yes he decided to sell his album for £125.00 on the internet, it was good because the Ghost Writer would say to people that he has the most expensive CD in the world, and it cheered him up lots. However it was bad because no one would buy it after all the public are not entirely mad (well I don’t think so).  So this is track three (chimes) from Sound and the Drum Machine’s, The Album of Dark Tales and Blues. It had a very cool looking CD and makes a brilliant coaster for your coffee

I will be taking tomorrow off so will not be posting a diary entry but I wish everyone a Happy Christmas and New Year and hope everyone has a good 2013, although I am sure the world is due to End in June of July if I remember rightly. . . . . .. 

The Ghost Writer

The homemade Steam Powered Strimmer and the Strange Random Noise Enhancement Array

Today has been a day a very heavy showers and then warm sunny patches, and after a tense game of Paper Scissors Stone I found myself instructed to cut the grass between showers, which I did. Because of the wet I was forced to use dads homemade Steam Powered Strimmer it is not one of his better inventions for many reasons not the least because of its weight. Dad would normally use micro technology to build a miniature superheated steam powered multi piston expansion chamber with a heat recycler, but he say he could not be bothered in the case of the Strimmer. Partly because I always loose at Scissors Paper Stone so he never has too use it and he fancied going back to the roots of steam  with a big old fashioned cast iron boiler fired by coke (not the drink or the drug). That is all very well but it is not easy to strim the grass when it is all you can do to pick up the strimmer in the first place.

Still it amused the dog, the cats, mum, dad and the Ghost Writer (who was taking pictures to show his friends) and passers by on the road, in particular the big steam traction engine that went by, I am not sure where that came from or where it going but it looked good. Luckily in the end the rain became more persistent and the firebox got all damp so I lost pressure (the strimmer lost pressure) and I was able to give up; although I was to put it bluntly knackered………..

I have also been putting things on walls in the Orange room and trying to find various little black electronic boxes and cables that all link together to make The Strange Random Noise Enhancement Array. The little Black boxes are getting a bit old now the fact that two of them are in fact cassette tape based says much, I wonder if it is possible to still buy blank cassette tapes mmmmmmmmmm.  I think it will take some time to find all the various bits for The Strange Random Noise Enhancement Array but that is OK and I need to remember how it all goes together.

Dads Weather Machine is set for sunny tomorrow so that is good although he thinks he has got an infestation of slugs at present that are manipulating things on the inside, as dad says you cant trust the Shockley Diode Equation once a subversive rough slug has interfered with the barriers of the diodes….  

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The Olympic Torch, as safe as Bobs Diamonds....

It has been a lovely day today, when I say lovely I am not referring to the weather as it is still wet and grey although not cold so that’s OK. Yes we went off to see Auntie Karen and Ian the Musical Hat Maker, rock hero and very nice chap. It was as always really great to see them; they live in the rolling hills of Wales in a house full of twists and turns and steps and small crevices full of interesting things. They have lived there for a long long time so all of the twists and turns and steps and small crevices full of interesting things are multilayered with interesting things, which is the best way to keep interesting things in my opinion.  Mr Ian was showing me his internet radio which is WELL COOL, he even tuned into the local Icelandic radio station which no one could understand because they were all speaking in Icelandic. But I think I will need to get one of these radios as radio reception here is not great even for the basic stations.  

  

 

Mr Ian the Musical Hat Maker is famous for his happy smiling face as he whizzes round his designer kitchen with its myriad of cooking options (electricity, oil, gas, coal, nuclear and the radar range) and threw together a rather yummy lunch of loads of different things although mainly vegetarian. However he did have mini scotch eggs in honour of his Scottish heritage and wafer thin ham that required a special technique to pick up in honour of Auntie Karen’s heritage, none of us quite got the hang of picking it up, however we still ate it all.

Mr Ian then told us tales of things like his attempt to set fire to the local member of parliament with the Olympic torch when it passed by the nearby town of Welshpool. However he was stopped by several large men on motorbikes who were smiling and waving to the crowd.  In the end he got away when a man from the bank tried to get the motorcycle Olympic torch outriders to invest a small amount of money in a high yield investment scheme which he assured them was as safe as buying diamonds from his mate Bob…….. AH

He also was telling us that he had an imposter on the internet once who said that he was Ian the Musical Hat Maker, But as I said, that is mad why would anyone pretend to be someone else on the internet…….. Even mum and Auntie Karen said IDIOT?      

Auntie Karen has started making hats, not music hats like Mr Ian but felt hats and they are rather COOL. She plans to wear them when she plays on stage with her band Hoots which sounds a bit like Hats (a bit), as I have said in the past Auntie Karen plays the saxophone. So they are both very musical although Mr Ian rather laments the good old days when songs were songs and everyone had to be a good musician. But with a million radio stations on his hi-tech internet radio he can still find a few things to listen too, even his own songs from time to time.

Anyway Auntie Karen and Mr Ian thank you for a lovely day it was lovely to see you as always, we hope you like the gooseberries, red currants and salad from the garden….  

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anthropomorphic saxophonist robot..... 
This is a late addition for my very good friend Mr ESB

The Builder the Cat and the Watkins Rapier

Here I am sat in a car with the laptop, I am not a fan of using the laptop for my diary because it does not sort stuff out in the same way as the old XP desktop which happily will correct the worst of my spelling regardless of which program or application I am using. So I can mess about in cyberspace and everyone still understands me (almost).

Anyway as I said I am in a car waiting and typing as I type, we have nipped off to Shrewsbury hospital, something we do from time to time although not a story for the diary.

It was rather strange getting here as back home it was sunny if a little overcast, but not a bad day all in all, then about half a mile down the road the weather was rubbish and was like that almost the entire trip then the last half a mile was OK again. I am getting irritated at present by builders with a loud radio listing to rubbish. Why do they do that…

My Watkins Rapier 44 and a cheapo Encore Les Paul copy

OK that was all some time ago as I am now back home away from the tinny thud thud thud of noise pollution. I know what you are thinking, I am a young hip slightly eccentric chap who should be dead keen on the thud thud thud of music, particularly as I play djembe and a rather cool left handed Red Watkins Rapier 44 guitar. And I do like music but not in a car park when it is being played on a cheap radio on a half built roof with a man joining in with the nail gun but out of time and singing like a cat that has just been nail gunned to a roof.

I have started making a log shed out of wood, it seems odd to make a log shed out of the material that will go in it so that we can take the wood out of it to burn on the log fire in the winter, and summer sometimes, but I will not talk about the weather …….Ah I already have DAM.

OK that is it for tonight because …….. Well, I can’t be bothered…….. No only kidding HAH HAHAH HAH HHA HAH HAH hah ah ha hahahah hah hah hah hahahah hhah hahhah hah ha.

No sorry I’m only kidding that I’m kidding it’s a double bluff so I’m off

No I’m not tricked you

OK there are some pics for a man from Chicago of the wiring inside a Watkins Rapier 44. It looks a bit wild but it works and it might be a bit frail to mess with.  

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