Jonola14

SWANS

If I had two swans, I’d call them Cyril and Son.

Then I could say:

“Nice swan Cyril
Nice swan Son”.

thank you. I’m here all week.

TEXTS 2007

YOGA

Are you stressed? Is working getting at you? Do you find comfort in alcohol, contact sport or a punch bag?

Well, now you can seek relaxation in Laughing Yoga For Stress.

I am happy, I am relaxed, I am happy, I am relaxed, boo ya ba, boo ya ba, boooo.

EASTER EGG HUNT 2007

I know, I know. Easter was weeks ago but it’s taken me that long to get round to writing it up.

In previous years, organisational duties fell to the old man. But after years and years of the same hiding places, last year’s race was won by yours truly in record time. This year, the old man was informed that his services were no longer required and instead, Ben took the reigns. Armed with a brand new digital camcorder and a three month old baby, Ben set about an Easter Egg Hunt restyling. It was certainly different.

TC (the old man) was informed that this year, since he was no longer Race Organiser, he would be taking part in the Easter Egg Hunt and Grandmother was given count management duties, involving counting how many eggs were in each hunter’s specially designated box. There was also a rule change, no longer were the eggs marked with a hunter’s name, this time it was a free for all. If you got to about six eggs, you’d be in with a good shout of winning. And no running was allowed.

So we lined up, each competitor eager to have his name etched on the trophy and awaited the signal from Ben ‘Race Organiser’. In the middle of the lawn was an upturned terracotta flower pot - there might have been an egg inside it, there might not. Each competitor had his eye on it, but I was the favourite to reach it first.

We got the signal and it was go go go. I marched off towards the terracotta pot, highly suspicious of it but feeling the need to satisfy my curiosity. I gave it a swift kick and sure enough, there was nothing under it. “I KNEW IT!” I exclaimed, and pointed accusingly at Race Organiser who was, by now, aiming the new camcorder in my direction, sniggering.

There was a cry from the side of the lawn, Sophie ‘The Tarb’ had taken first blood and stormed into an early lead, soon matched by Carole ‘Also Carrying Amelia’, leaving Olivia, Jane and I barely anywhere and TC asking if we had started yet.

I marched off to the wendy house, the site of many an easter egg find over the years but wary of being spotted with both feet off the ground at any one time and therefore accused of running. There were some loose tiles piled on top of more terracotta flower pots. They looked a little out of place, like perhaps they had been put there recently? I lifted them and revealed a small blue tarpaulin, I frantically grabbed at that and sure enough, underneath was my prize. I snatched it up, walked briskly back to the Grandmother and slotted my prize in my box. I was underway.

But Also Carrying Amelia was building a lead with The Tarb closely behind. I was struggling. The usual hiding places were not bearing fruit. Or eggs. Whatever. Soon the leaders had hit three eggs and I was stuck, staggering through the undergrowth with very little to show for my efforts. This was no longer about finding eggs, this was about competition. I didn’t mind defeat by Also Carrying Amelia, but by The Tarb? That was not an option.

Jane and Olivia squealed almost simultaneously, adding another egg to their totals but finds became rarer and rarer as more and more discoveries were made. I managed to locate one, wrapped in a black plastic bag and tucked in the large ditch pipe next to the fence in the front corner of the garden. This was no ordinary easter egg hunt, this was extreme hunting. I was one behind.

But only two eggs were left. We regrouped on the patio and the new Race Organiser managed to work out where the remaining eggs were. I needed them both to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, I was nervous, but it was possible and I was confident. “Think devious”, Race Organiser advised. “Fiendish”.

We ploughed on and I wandered to the far corner of the rear garden, suspicious that not more eggs had been found in the area. I approached the ditch and noticed that the camcorder was focused on me. TC had given up and looked on from his comfy seat on the patio, cup of tea in hand and doting on the number of potatoes he’d scoffed at lunch. But I was in the ditch, why else would the camcorder be on me if I wasn’t expected to find an egg? I looked, but there was nothing. No egg. Where the hell were they?

I wandered off, certain that Race Organiser was only filming me so he could gloat later on about how far wide of the mark I had been. But as I paced away, Also Carrying Amelia shrieked with joy as she located an egg, stuffed down a rabbit hole right where I had been examining the ditch. Damn it! I knew I couldn’t win. The best result I could hope for was a draw and then perhaps a victory in an Egg-Off.

But my hopes were soon dashed as Also Carrying Amelia once again exclaimed a shriek of delight and produced another egg from another rabbit hole, almost on top of the one she had just found. I had lost! Beaten into third place by my sister-in-law and worse, The Tarb had grabbed second.

The good thing is that next year, race organisational duties will pass to this year’s winner - Also Carrying Amelia, who will undoubtedly introduce new rules. We might be doing a three-legged race, or blindfolded, but whatever we do, the reality of it is that Ben will be competing. And that makes it a whole new ball game. Well, egg game. Whatever.

SUPER MOUSIO BROTHERS

Super Mario Bros was one of the first characters established in the modern gaming world. They still exist to this day and now you can get them for your PC, as a mouse.

Alternatively, if you don’t have a PC, you may prefer a tea-towel holder.

SOME LIGHT READING

Many of you know that I am studying at the moment. Since September I have been working towards the CIM Professional Diploma in Marketing which involves attending college two nights a week and having my head in the books for a considerable proportion of the weekend.

Fortunately, the first round of exams back in December went well and I passed them both. In two and a half weeks time, though, I have the final two exams and I am currently studying hard to make sure I am well prepared for the exam papers.

Now, I have to work in the kitchen - my bedroom is only small and the kitchen is the only room with a table in it, which has been covered with my folders and marketing books since the course began.

The night before last, half an hour after getting in from work, I was attending to my boiling spuds at the cooker when BAM! The kitchen lights zapped off. “Here we go again” I said to myself, remembering the power cut debacle of a previous week but then I heard the blaring of the television in the other room, so it couldn’t be a power cut. I concluded that a lightbulb in the kitchen must have gone, causing the trip switch to, ummm, trip and sending the kitchen into darkness.

So, after dinner, I went about trying to locate which one of the six kitchen spotlights had gone bang. I tested the lights, expecting them simply not to work but BAM! once more, and a flash of the bulbs. “Hmmmm, there’s something amiss” I mused.

After removing all the bulbs bar one and once again testing the lights, one of the wires hanging from the empty spotlight shell flashed brilliantly and once again the kitchen was left in darkness.

Stumped, I knew that an electrician was needed so I made some calls but not one of them has got back to me. This is typical. No problem with the lights all year and then, two weeks before my exams when I am using the kitchen more than ever as my revision base, the poxy lights go bang, meaning I can’t do decent studying at home and requiring the intervention and expertise of an electrician, who won’t return calls.

Absolute arse.

SHUNTA BIRTHDAY

Happy Birthday to Shunta, who catches me up age-wise once more. Welcome to the 28 club.

Also, congratulations on becoming PC Hunter. No, he’s not out searching for computers, Shunta will be joining the Surrey Police Force in October this year. I am expecting him to develop a coffee addiction and a doughnut habit.

In the meantime, let’s all enjoy this picture, taken on his stag do last year, hours after his release from hospital for an allergic reaction to aspirin:

NO MORE LION DOWN

Lions are the most social and best studied of the large cats and mankind has regarded these great predators with awe for thousands of years. However, despite their strength and today’s conservation efforts, lions are in decline throughout their ranges, for they do not mix well with the many human activities which threaten their livelihood. Humans are the main reason for lion decline, with large areas of the lions range appropriated for cultivation or for human habitation. When that happens there is no place for lions or the wild prey on which they depend, and the species rapidly disappears.

Absolute numbers are unknown, but the world’s lion population at the present time is estimated between 30,000 and 100,000 animals. They are most widespread and abundant in Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia, central African Republic, Zaire, Zambia and Botswana. Elsewhere, lion populations are sparse and largely restricted to protected areas. The asiatic lion however is hanging on by a thread. Its only wild population in the world is in the Gir Forest in north-west India, where there are approx 300 of them, as many as their sanctuary can hold.

By adopting a lion you are helping to support the work of conservation groups, providing vital funding necessary to carry out their campaigning and efforts to improve and preserve the wildlife and their habitat.

I am now signed up to a monthly direct debit to support these awesome creatures and as a UK taxpayer, a percentage of what I give is also added by the government, so Born Free are getting even more.

Please give something back to the planet we all live on. It’s not just lions that are endangered, check these out:

Animal Adoptions
The Born Free Foundation
World Wildlife Fund

QUEEN ETHELBURGA

You know when you sign up for something, you have to tick the box to say that you don’t want that company to allow “certain, selected partners” to contact you with promotions that “you may find interesting”? Well today I had a moment like that.

The envelope was white and unmarked, it was franked but not by a corporation so I opened it with a sense of intrigue. I pulled out the contents.

There, in my hand, was a letter from Queen Ethelburga’s College, York with accompanying prospectus and invitation to an Open Day.

Dear Mr Cook,
Please find enclosed a personal invitation to our Open Day on Saturday 9th June 2007 together with a small pamphlet. Why not come along and see the facilities for yourself, you could also take advantage of our special Open Day Awards which are available for parents who register their children at Open Day.

This struck me as a little strange for a couple of reasons:
1. I live nowhere near York.
2. There is more chance of small, moomin-like extra terrestrials taking over the Earth than me having children at this moment in time.
3. Even if 2. was to happen, there is no way I could afford to send a child to Queen Ethelburga’s College or indeed any boarding school.
4. Coming from a College, the author of the letter should have realised that a question mark was necessary at the end of the rhetorical second sentence.

So a word of advice for all you people who don’t read the small print when you sign up to something - expect the unexpected. And the bizarre. And the non-applicable.

And who on Earth was Queen Ethelburga?

STOP PRESS RELEASE

I often have to send out press releases that have been written by someone else, but with my name and contact details at the bottom. I had printed 30 copies of this particular press release and was just about to send them out to my contacts when I noticed the following error:

“with their forthcoming tour already sold out and a gold album already in the bag, this is set to be their year and their inviting you to follow them to infinity“.

I HATE this error. It really annoys me. How difficult is it to understand that the abbreviation of ‘they are’ is ‘they’re’. It’s not hard, the space disappears and the ‘a’ is replaced by an apostrophe. Simple.

Consequently, I just could not send out the press release, certainly not with my name at the bottom. There is no way I could have other sticklers for grammar tutting at the error and assuming it was my fault. No way.

But I felt guilty that I would be wasting so much paper and, since I did not know where the recycling bin was, the green people amongst you will be glad to hear that I brought those 30 pages all the way home so I could recycle them here.

Take your own their / they’re / there test right here.