Hmm, this intent to blog more often isn’t going so well. Christmas is very nearly upon us – in truth, I’ve been pretty well prepared for ages anyway – so no last minute stressing for me. Which is lucky as much of this week was taken out by illness – still feeling drained now, but glad to have had a chance to get into work before the festivities commence to leave the office with a clean slate – and obviously recover sufficiently to enjoy assorted celebrations too.
Speaking of celebrations, our work Christmas party was last week – as ever my esteemed colleagues didn’t let us down with a fine selection of finery on our fancy dress theme of ‘famous dead people’. I elected to go as Brandon Lee, admittedly because I seem to have developed a penchant for white-and-black make-up based dressing up with Alice Cooper, Paul Stanley and now The Crow in my repertoire. I was pleased with the result, even if I also looked a bit like the scary one from Shakespeare’s Sister (thanks for that spot, Mike!). Amusingly one colleague arrived dressed as Bruce Lee, who is, of course, Brandon’s dad.
Forest have been continuing their desperate quest to not only reach the bottom of the barrel, not simply scrape the bottom of it, but to drill right through and strike out for the other side of the planet. Frustrating, for sure. That said, the subsequent lack of impetus to invest quite so much time in following the Reds away from home has saved me a bit of cash! Always a winner.
Probably the highlight of the month so far though (our work party was close, but not close enough!) was seeing Rolf Harris at the Royal Concert Hall in Nottingham. Having got a few of his live recordings, it’s amazing that he’s basically been doing a very similar set (including patter and jokes!) for about 40 years, but it’s still an engaging act – indeed, three generations of my family were there on the front row to enjoy a true entertainer strutting his stuff. Better still my mate Alex, one of the didgeridoodling four from last year, loitered at the stage door and had his instrument (fnar) signed by Rolf.
I’m now off work ’til the 9th January which I’m quite pleased about – I could do with a rest, frankly, so don’t have masses of plans! So, season’s greetings to all you fine folk, may you have a splendid Christmas and a prosperous new year – and I’ll leave you with this rather tremendous video of Rolf doing what he does best!

I was only thinking about bullying the other day, and pondering a blog post about it, and then that awful news regarding a young girl locally deciding to take her life amidst suggestions that playground abuse might’ve been the cause. It’s spooky when that happens, and I honestly can’t recall the reason the subject popped into my head prior to hearing the news bulletin.
Nights like last night make me marvel that people at large will gladly elevate the turgid and passionless shit that fills the charts whilst ignore things on their doorstep that are, well, better.
It’s too easy to think that people aren’t nice – and I’ve yet to find a better cure than spending an evening talking to people at their very best. Undoubtedly charities like this shouldn’t have to exist if humans in general weren’t self-serving profiteers, but whilst of course raising money for the charity is the principle aim, I don’t underestimate the good the process does to me – not in terms of some kind of redemption but because it really reminds me how bloody great so many people are. Chatting to people moved to help those less fortunate is a fantastic tonic for the world-weary. I heartily recommend it.
Red alert:
It’s funny the things that pop in to your head when the only option on telly is The Football Factory. The painting in this picture is by René Magritte, and it lives in the Tate Modern in London. I remember seeing it on a school trip there and being fascinated by it for some reason.

Next week we’re off to take part in our company’s annual charity-partner event. This year we undertake (as an organisation – not individually) a walk from Castle Cary, which festival aficionados will know as the nearest train station to the Glastonbury festival, to Nottingham. Our team are part of the ‘first leg’ – so will be taking on the first 18 miles of the journey.
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