Cotswold stoned

As it has been a while I just thought I'd let you all know what I've been up to.

Tallulah and I visited Oxfordshire and the Cotswolds for a week at the end of January in order to visit my mother (still poorly) and see friends and relatives. Seeing Oxfordshire again - after not having visited the city for a year - I realise how much I love it's obviously not the Oxfordshire I remember growing up in. A bit like recalling a particular summer I suppose - it doesn't matter what actually happened back then, just the fact that you remember it as being a good time.

We went out into the Cotswolds because, much though I like Manchester (still unsure if it likes me), sometimes one needs a little breathing space and some green. Felt a yearning for the honey-coloured stone of my homeland that I had to scratch...

For those of you who have never been to the Cotswolds I offer the following guide:

a) It's all very green except for the people who are, on
b) The Cotswolds still operate on the barter system, so take a chicken.
c) The inhabitants are all very wealthy - so make it an antique chicken (regency for preference)
d) The inhabitants are all country folk who appreciate rural crafts - like running over your pet in a 4 x 4.

I now append a photograph of one of a bustling metropolis in the Cotswolds. Witness the simmering urban tension.














Visited Cheltenham for the first time too. The best way I can describe Cheltenham is 'Bath on a budget'. It has a lot of the same Regency spa town feel - but Cheltenham feels a little contrived in comparison to it's bigger more cousin which probably throws the whole 'Jane Austen' connection in Cheltenham's face at every family gathering.

One thing that Bath does not have is a "Wishing Fish Clock" (at least to my knowledge) . Obviously, when I heard this I had to go and have a look and it certainly the finest example of a piscine-related wish time measuring device of wish fufilment that one could hope for - a photograph is appended below















On the way back home to the North we visited the Bicester Retail Park. This may have been a mistake as Tallulah has now discovered that they have a Jimmy Choo outlet there - which she proceeded to approach with all the reverence of a pilgrim approaching the shrine of Saint Horace (patron saint of forgetting to set the video).

No socks plrease, we're British!

In order to shine a light into the Geek's domestic arrangements I include the following conversation:

Geek: "I hate bedsocks"

Tallulah: "But you wear socks in bed, don't you?"

Geek: "Occasionally, but they are not bedsocks"

Tallulah: "If you wear the socks in bed then they are bedsocks".

Geek: "No. I may wear socks in bed, but they are not bedsocks".

Tallulah: "What kind of socks do you wear in bed then?"

Geek: "Occasionally I wear socks in bed but they are only socks that I happen to wear in bed, not 'bedsocks' which are socks that are specifically designed with the express intention of being worn in bed".

Tallulah: "Surely it is better to wear socks in bed that are specifically designed to be worn in bed rather than standard socks".

Geek: "No, because if I wear socks (of the non-bedsock variety) in bed I can deny the bedsock element by convincing myself that in fact I am merely by sheer co-incidence wearing socks in bed. If I wear bedsocks in bed I am faced with the stark reality that I am, in fact, wearing bedsocks in bed".

Tallulah: "I'm leaving you".

There you have it. As a 34 year man who has been in a stable and loving relationship for 6 years I reserve the right to occasionally wear socks in bed in the heart of the cruel midwinter. This does not, however, mean that I am ready to wear bedsocks. One has to have standards!

New Year (Lack of ) Resolutions

First off I'd like to wish my dwindling number of readers a Happy New Year.

2007 has been a difficult year for the geek having started with the most difficult exhibition I've ever worked on. March was great because I asked Tallulah to marry me (and sometime around April or May she stopped saying "OHMiGod" long enough to say yes). June saw a great birthday party for my beloved but also saw the heaven's open. July saw Tallulah fall ill and she only really recovered shortly before our September trip to Amsterdam. October to November was a period of really hard work at work and saw my mother fall ill and then December was the usual combination of shopping and soul searching.

All of which is a roundabout way of explaining why I've once again failed in my resolution to update this blog more often. Blame the past year, blame my workload, blame society, blame the addictiveness of Facebook (erm, actually the latter IS probably largely to blame) but I just haven't been putting in the hours at the keyboard that I used to.

What I won't do is promise that I can update it very often - I don't make promises when I believe that there is a chance that I can't fufil them (your starter question for ten is: exactly how annoying is this peccadillo as far as Tallulah is concerned?) - but what I will do is promise to update it more often. Unless there is a nuclear war, or a bird-flu epidemic, or if I simply can't be arsed.

He Aten't Dead

For the past week or so, I've wanted to post something about the saddening news that the author Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with Altzheimers and to take the opportunity of saying how much I enjoy his work.

Some of you might not know Pratchett's work - this would tend to indicate that you are either someone who doesn't like the fantasy genre (a big group) or someone who has had their head down a rabbit hole for over twenty years (hopefully a small group, although meeting some people you have to wonder).

...Alternatively you could be one of those people who doesn't like the fantasy genre but reads JK Rowling and Philip Pullman novels claiming that they are not fantasy, and calling them something like 'magical realism' - a snobbish act of denial that makes them feel better about themselves. These people should really appear on some form of police register....

Back to Pratchett. Mr TP writes funny and accessible books that both satirise the excess of the fantasy genre (the silly names, the dramatic conventions, the gender inequalities and so forth) and yet also uses the fantasy genre to examine our own history, morals and attitudes. Ironically, the most popular character in his books is probably Death. But TP's death is a grim reaper with some very human failings (especially a love of cats).

It's become rather popular to have ago at TPs books and readership - a lot of people see him as a wannabe Rowling (despite the fact he's been writing far longer). The literary elite such as Late Review and, more recently, the normally placid Stephen Fry have also laid into both the books and the fans but it's difficult to see why - TPs books are not great literature but then he's never claimed to produce great literature. What he has produced are books that are relatively short, funny and enjoyable to read but, like the best humour writing, also manage to touch on human emotions and failings. Scratch beneath the surface in some of the more recent works and you'll also find quite a lot of intelligent research behind the parody.

Although Pratchett's books don't have the full power of publishing's marketing giants behind them they are still the second most popular series in Britain after those of JK. His books have given me a lot of pleasure over the years and they've also given me support as a schoolchild, as a student and as an adult. As someone who has lost a few loved ones over the years I have also derived a great deal of solace from the idea of death as a skeletal and vaguely eccentric cat lover.

I actually met the great man myself at a book signing where he asked how I spelled my first name. When I told him that I 'd though that there was only one way of spelling my name he looked at me, sighed and said "You'd be surprised. Having done these things as long as I have, I've learned that there are also about 50 different ways of spelling 'Bob'".

Of course, TP has been at great pains to point out on websites that "he isn't dead" and that he still hopes to write despite his illness. He's also stated that:

"it's a very human thing to say "Is there anything I can do", but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry".

Fair enough, so i'd just like to use this blog to wish TP all the best.

Guess WHO came to the museum...

This weekend is the 150th anniversary of the opening of the museum where I work at it's current site (the museum is acyually 160 years old this year). To celebrate we had a Time Travel themed event in the building and I thought I'd share the photographs....

November has come

298 days to go...

Blimey, haven't posted for a long time have I? I felt that I should really give it a rest as it was beginning to become the watcher's guide to Strictly come Dancing....

So, what has the geek been up to?

1. I'm very busy at work - we're currently going through Accreditation at my museum (a bit like an OFSTED report) so as far as the staff are concerned we're all running around like beheaded chickens. As I'm working on a 300+ page document at the moment my desire to type away at a keyboard when I get home has lessened somewhat (hence the recent dearth of posts).

2. I went to see Bill Bailey's new show 'Tinselworm' at the MEN arena. Very funny, although what was funnier was watching me try to eat a plastic cupful of ice cream with the smallest spoon known in Christendom in the interval.

(Actually it was before the show, but I just like typing the word interval because it's so velvety)

While I'm on the subject, please allow me to direct you to Bill Bailey's fantastic new site which can be found here: http://www.billbailey.co.uk/

3. I went to see the turner prize entrants at the Liverpool Tate. Fairly un-controversial this time around and I don't know whether I'm disappointed at that.

4. It was my birthday on the 21st (hurrah) and I am now 34. Some colleagues have already told me that this means that I am middle-aged next year (boo). I say that that is all just a load of mathematical nonsense (and tedious nonsense at that) so as a public service here are some other things you can tell me about the number 34 to avoid boring me in future.

-34 is the ninth Fibonnaci number

-34 is the atomic number of selenium

-34 is the traffic code of Istanbul

-34 is the number of the street in the film 'Miracle on 34th Street' (obvious, really)

-34 is the international code for direct-dialling Spain

-34 is the prisoner number of the Count of Monte Cristo

5, Went to the Memorabilia show in Birmingham last weekend. You may not believe this coming from a self-confessed geek such as myself but it's the first time I've been to such a thing. Definitely the most fun you can have with a laser screwdriver!

To give you a taste of the sci-fi goodness of it all here is a photo of myself and Tallulah being menaced by stormtroopers (one of which is a lady stormtrooper):

In the Most Strictly Confidence II

323 days and counting.....

Heaven forfend that this blog should become a running commentary on Strictly Come Dancing but Spanglepuss has indicated to me that I should comment on the furore that seems to have been generated by the result last weekend.

For those of you with better things to do (i.e. everyone but me - well, actually I do have better things to do but it's a good displacement activity) what happened on the last round of Strictly Come Dancing is that two good dancers got the lowest score overall and one of the likely prospects to win (Gaby Logan) got voted out.

(Oh, and one of the other dancing couples performed one lift more than they were allowed and got top marks. This is apparently a crime on a par with genocide if you're a ballroom dancer).

Some people seem shocked by this. Other people think that it is a tragedy.

I think that it's great simply because it shows that no matter how weighted the contest has become in favour of a particular outcome the great British public can always do something completely random.

This is a good thing, people!

All in all it's probably not surprising that two tall, thin, attractive blonde women didn't attract many public votes from a largely female audience. I leave you to decide why this might be and it will be interesting to see how the other good dancer who obviously had little public support last week - Penny "What first attracted you to millionaire Rod Stewart?" Lancaster Stewart - does from now on.

Blessed are the Geek!