Thieving Little..

Well after six months we've finally become victims of north London crime.

In the dead of last night our three topiaries and lovely Columbia Road planters were half-hinched from outside our front window / light well. (They had grown and filled-out a lot since this photo from my March entry).



Some four foot high and full of earth these beauties would have been rather heavy and awkward to maneuver -- which suggests malice aforethought. The heist would have required detailed and careful planning and the involvement of more than one n'er-do-well and a sizeable get-away vehicle.

Mine and Emmie's walks will now extend beyond the park. We will become an eagle-eyed 'dynamic duo' patrolling the neighbouring streets in search of our planting and in defense of all good law-abiding amateur horticulturalists everywhere.

So, garden robbers of N16 -- you've been warned..

Who's Behind The Wheel?

Everyone's having a 'pop' at our so-called chavs flying the Cross Of St. George flags from their cars and white vans.



Personally, I have no problem with people showing their excitement for the World Cup and publicly demonstrating their support of our albeit depleted team. OK, it's a bit silly, but then this silly competition does make even the most sober of us a little wobbly. It'll all be over in a few weeks and all will return to normal.

It's their look out if they want waste their burger money by needlessly guzzling petrol (the flags cause drag and therefore drink more petrol, sort-of like driving along the motorway with the windows open).

What gets me is the idiots that clog the roads day-in and day-out, football or no. Who are these menaces to society?

It's the: I'm So Proud Of The Fact That I'm A Parent And Aren't I Clever To Have Managed To Have Procreated? Don't You Just Envy Me For My Bundle Of Joy? I'm So Smug In My 4x4 With Sorted Professional Hubby And Happy Suburban Nuclear Family. Oh, Please Drive Carefully As Babba Is Soooo Precious To Us, And Forgive Me For Not Paying Attention To The Road, Traffic Signals, Other Road Users Or Pedestrians Because I'm Yabbering Baby Boo-Boo-Talk To Babba In The Car Seat On The Backseat...'



Let the bloody kid drive the damn car. It'll probably do a better job than you, you prat!

It's Coming..

World Cup fever is truly here.

The last week of anticipation and countdown has been almost unbearable.

Yesterday's opening ceremony gave the world the bizarre spectacle of hundreds of German chaps in lederhosen seemingly fornicating with large bells. And who ever said that our Teutonic friends lack humour. Fantastic!

The weird ritual of mass man-on-metal copulation clearly did the trick for the host nation's team -- which won an amazing opening drama against Costa Rica.



And today, at 2pm our campaign begins in earnest against Paraguay.

While I'm fearful that we probably won't win and will be summarily expelled from the competiton on penalties in the Quarter or Semi Finals, I, like the many millions of my countrymen and women can still dream of glory.

I was born in the year that England last (and first) won the World Cup, and 40 years on, maybe there's a mathematical symmetry at play..?

We do, of course, have probably the strongest national team assembled since '66, and even without the recovering Rooney, the well balanced squad is almost to a man at-peak-performance (with the obvious exception of Campbell).

Unusually for a Saturday, I've been up since 5:00am -- like a kid at Christmas -- and I know it has nothing to do with work or wedding stress. I literally can't wait.

To co-opt the now famous song -- I still believe.

Evensong

Naturally, we're trying hard to make it to St.Bride's as often as possible -- usually a couple of time a month. It is afterall the place where we'll soon be married. But it is a truly lovely place and something we both feel strongly connected to. It's so nice to be on the electoral roll there and to be part of the parish's open and welcoming community.

Not only is St. Bride's a wonderful example of Wren's genius, but it's a spectacular building of quiet and peace.

But worthy of note is that the choir is amazing and Evensong is when they really shine. Afterall, this service is really all about them and their songs of praise. The musical selection at Evensong is always challenging and a real test of their ability and importantly, they never fail to delight.

As the 6:30pm on a Sunday slot is rarely well attended it's like having a private concert. And with outstanding acoustics and the idyllic setting one cannot help but feel very privilidged.

OK, they come at a price, but are so incredibly talented, their contribution to our own little service will be phenomonal.

Weddings: Other People's 2.0

We're just back from a lovely wedding in the Bedfordshire countryside -- made more glorious by the fact of it also being a truly sweltering day.

It was a great opportunity to not only review our own checklist of things that really really really need sorting, but to be reminded of what all this stress and expense is actually all about.

Thank you very much Frances and James for inviting us to your splendid nuptials and giving us a lovely day. But moreover, by providing us with a timely reminder of why we're doing the same in only four weeks.

It all makes perfect sense.

Karma Police

I'm not superstitious, but there's something going on.

Last night, instead of behaving and doing her usual pee and sniff around the garden, Ems bolted for freedom over the fence and into the neighbour's garden.

Now this isn't a unique occurrence as she is an inquisitive dog by nature and our fencing remains atrocious. But I have trained her (or at least I thought I had), to only go out long enough to empty her bladder and return directly to the house before bedtime.

Simply, it's just not cool to be calling -- as quietly as possible -- after a willful dog at 11:00pm. A combination of needing to train her and my anger meant that she got a relatively light smack on the bum and a telling-off.

But this morning we awoke to a house sans electricity.

Bad karma or just unfortunate coincidence?

A nice man from London Electricity came round very quickly and the lekkie was very soon restored.

All well so far and reparations made with dog with long walk in an empty park on this lovely first day of true summer morning.

But just now, while selecting Razorlight on the iPod my beloved framed original A1 B&W signed print of The Clash by Bob Gruin fell off the wall. The strong wire hanger snapped. Also, I notice that the frame and picture have buckled due to the dampness of the wall behind.



Joe clearly disapproves of the Razors and my lapse in effective animal husbandry.

And my karma is clearly in a dire state.

I'm heartily sorry Mr. S and will remain under complete control for the rest of the weekend.

About Blinkin' Time Too

One of the things about keeping a blog is maintaining a frequency of posts.

Well that's been practically impossible for the last few weeks with one thing and another..

Anyway, enough of that. Let's keep this thing going.

Why have I been 'offline' for nearly three weeks? Well, we're four weeks away from the wedding, and you wouldn't believe the shenanigans that goes with that. (OK, you might). Also, work for us both has been very busy and frankly, we're both knackered and find ourselves standing together at logger-heads with the rest of the world about this or that -- or that's how it seems.

How selfish of us to think of this one day in our lives to be soley about us and us alone.

Enough dammit. There's always a few minutes in most days to compose a word or two. It might not change the world or indeed, how our lives play out, but at least I'll have an outlet to vent.

Clive's World Order is back, and back with bile a-plenty.

Gloves off.