The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
I have craved a Pinball table for as long as I can remember. I think it was because they had one in the eatery on 'Happy Days'. The particular one I fell in love with is the 1970's Evel Knievel Pinball machine. There is just something about it, that grabs me, and of course I grew up in the era of Evel Knievel and had the stunt bike toy etc.
I have whittled about getting one for so many years now, and every time I run it by my wife, something new comes up to block me owning it. Originally when we were both out of college and living together in a one bedroom flat, three storey's up, It was to do with the space.
So I wore her down, and she agreed that if we bought our own flat, and it was bigger than a one bedroom flat and on the ground floor, I could buy it. So we stopped renting our little flat and bought our first flat together. Ticked all the boxes. Ground floor, two bedrooms and even a garden which was a treat for us. Firstly the place was a run down shell, which needed a lot of work doing to it to get it up to standard, hence why we could afford to buy it. For the first 3 years we spent every penny on decorating, replastering etc etc. By the 4th Year we had done all the major stuff and the money was going towards cushions and curtains and things. And then we finally finished it all, we were able to sit back and relax and enjoy the place.
I remembered the conversation about if we bought a flat, with two bedrooms, on the ground floor etc, that I would be able to buy the Pinball table of my dreams. I found the one I was after, the prices had shot up from 4 years ago as they are getting more rare, but I found one that could be shipped from America to our front door. Well I broached the subject of the pinball table again, and found out that the goalposts had been moved without me realizing.
Apparently the second bedroom now was only big enough to be used as a second bedroom and was to be kept clear for guests...... Where had that come from!
So we ended up selling the flat and moved into a Large 3 Bedroom house. Not only did it have an extra dining room, but it had a very large third bedroom and loft space.
I have recently broached the subject again of the pinball table...... But alas it seems we need all 3 bedrooms, 2 for guests and the dining room is for Dining in, not to be filled with a large pinball table.
I am now beginning to realize that I may never own my beloved Evel Knievel Pinball table, and the closest I will get to seeing it is on the internet as the prices rise and rise.
But you never know. In the meantime the closest I have to Pinball table stuff is a lovely picture book and the pinball bumper badges above.
Well a man can dream!
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
Ah, the smell of a tractor, the wind in your hair, the thrashing blades of a combine harvester by your side!
I was very lucky when I was growing up, as our parents best friends were farmers. They were not always farmers but when Uncle Nev's dad died he inherited his dad's farm. Oh yes, and he was not actually my uncle, but for some reason we always called them uncle Nev and auntie Eileen.
We lived on the edge of town. Walk one way and you went to town, walk the other way and you were out in the countryside. I preferred the countryside to the town. We seemed to be over the farm helping a lot. Especially during the summer months and Lambing time.
For us a kids it was great because they had kids our age and slightly older. And while the parents worked and helped out we would be playing around the farm and the yard. Chasing rats in the grain barn, staying clear of the temperamental but gorgeous sheep dog (the dog was nev's dad's and went a little funny when his owner died).
As well as being beautiful and idylic a bit like Darling buds of may, It could be a dangerous.....very dangerous place. I managed to fall in the sheep dip, luckily while no sheep were in it, I almost got trampled by the cows (wow, they are very big when you get up close to them), I almost sank into the grain in the grain hut without any trace, I was cornered by the biggest rat I have ever seen in my life, and I fell off a haystack. Happy times!
Whereas kids at school would have there favourite cars, Lambourghinis, ferraris etc, I was a big fan of the old John deer green tractor, and the brand new combine harvester, which dwarfed their old combine harvester.
We often helped or hindered with the Combining, stacking the bails of hay, sheep dipping. I remeber onec I was riding in the cab of the new combine with Uncle Nev and my dad. He jumped up out of the seat and asked me to hold the wheel for him, he took one look at my dad and they both darted out of the cab leaving me driving the monster. Nev just kept smiling at me and shouting point it towards the gate!!!! I have never been so scared and thrilled in my life except for the Hulk ride in florida.
The best experience for me was lambing. We got a call at 3am one morning, and dad whipped us up into our clothes and we drove over. The lambing was just starting and we got to watch as 3 or 4 sheep were lambing. They were so matter of fact about everything, and I learn't loads, but the scariest was when they had a difficult birth, and had to winch the lamb out by the legs. Thankfully all survived and within minutes were up and about.
If you ever get the chance to witness it, I urge you to do it.
Living in the city now, I really miss those days, and although they are viewed through rose tinted glasses I hope the memories never fade.
Thanks to my parents for being brave enough to let us explore and to Nev and Eileen for giving us a great childhood.
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
"We came...We saw...We kicked it's ass" shout's Dr. Peter Venkman. Ghosts everywhere, coming out of the sewers, in closets, on buses. Great film and like everyone else at the time I went a bit Ghostbusters mad.
But that was then and this is now, So why on earth do I still believe in ghosts. I could not put a time frame on when I started believing in other things and other worlds which can crossover but I am sure that Ghostbusters helped seal my belief.
I remember somebody bought me a fantastic colour book about the paranormal and the unexplained one Christmas. Apart from the usual stuff, Nessie, the Yeti, curses on Egyptian tombs and a particularly gruesome picture of the remains of a burnt leg which was the result of self combustion, there was a section on Ghosts, and Poltergeists.
They had some amazing photographs, that I am pretty sure have been debunked now, of a white ghost coming down a staircase. But that did not matter to me, it was the text really that opened up the possibility of what if? From there on I sort of Searched out local history ghosts from where I used to live, and when you start looking there is an awful lot of stuff about the subject.
One story that grabbed me was about a female ghost or male ghost depending on your sex that would appear to people at an old unused cemetary where I used to live. The story goes that if you see the image of a woman (you being a male) and she attracts you over and kisses you, you have 48hrs to live. Likewise if you see a man (you being female) and he does the same you will only have 48hrs to live. It was something to do with being a spurned lover and their body was buried at this old disused cemetary.
So after reading that the first thing I did, was get my gang of mates to saddle up on our BMX's (they had BMX's, I had a cheap heavy copy by Raleigh in Copper and black) and head out to the cemetary. Mind you it was the middle of the summer holidays and blazing sunshine, but we camped ourselves outside the cemetary for hours just waiting. One of us would suddenly say something like, "there, something moved" and our heartrates would jump a little higher. Nothing, not a sausage. But what on earth would we have done if we had seen and been enticed by this lady ghost. Panicked!
But I still hold out for something to this day. I watch all the normal rubbish on TV to do with it. Sit there for hours upon hours watching Most haunted live for nothing to happen apart from a load of screaming for no apparant reason, and camera work just like the Blair witch project. And as usual at the end of the night they sit around and discuss just what did not actually happen, but could have. I am getting to the point where I want Carl and Yvette Fielding to be attacked in front of a locked off camera!
And of course there was the great Derek Acorah who would go into a trancelike state and start hurling obsenities into the face of Yvette, which looking back was probably more to do with his contract and the fact that they no longer got on, than any paranormal occurance.
But much later in my life I had my one and only ghostly experiences. I was working in a pub while I was at college. It was the Old Queens head in Penn. The place used to be an old Tithe barn with a coaching Inn attached. It had just gone under extensive refurbishments when I joined.
First of all I worked as the Kitchen Porter, washing up into the wee small hours on a Saturday night and Sunday night. I always felt when I was left alone at the end of shift to finish cleaning and shutting down that there was something behind me, but nothing ever happened. Later I moved to being a barman, and would finish bottling up around 3am, and sit down with the others and grab a drink. The first experience happened regularly enough around 3am on a Saturday morning. The church opposite had a security light and this would go on, and then a couple of moments later the door to the pub which had a gate latch, would click up and open fully and close with a latch as we all sat there. Not that remarkable some might say, but the door was a heavy wooden door and had a fire hinge at the top which was hard to push at the best of times. This happened so regularly, the same pattern, that we named this thing George. And would raise our glasses and say "Morning George".
The next strange occurance was much more personal. The Tithe barn area, the oldest part of the pub, had just gone under major refurbishments to house an new set of toilets. Well I was in there not long after they had finished and was....Well doing my business having a pee. There was only me and two other staff there and I could hear them down stairs. There was nobody behind me, nobody else in the toilet and the squeaky door would have alerted me if someone had dashed out. All of a sudden I felt a focused hard push on my left shoulder, which spun me around a bit. Nothing no one there. I had not finished peeing so had to finish up quick smart but then again another harder more violent push to my left shoulder. That was it for me, and I can only apologise for not washing my hands that night, but I was gone, Out of the loo and very quickly out of the pub. Oh yes and I had had a few pints that night but even so, it jolted me out of any slightly merry feeling I was having.
It wasn't that long after that I quit my job there.
So until I find out otherwise I am AFRAID I am going to carry on believing. I could have told you about the night where flying cutlery and knives went by my head but that was just the chef. He was a nutter!!
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
Apparently....3D is coming back. Woo Hoo I hear you cry. But the question is, did it ever leave us. In it's time, 3D was brilliant. I must admit, I was a late starter to 3D films but, wow how excited was I when they played the first one on TV and you got a FREE pair of 3D glasses with your copy of Radio Times or TV Times.
We all sat around the telly, a little closer than normal, all sat there in Our 3D glasses which were very uncomfortable, looking all modern and space age (amazing what a bit of red and blue celluloid can do). If I remember rightly, the film was about Cowboys and Indians. I would not say it had a memorable plot in any form, basic cowboy and Indian stuff, but it did have an awful lot of people jabbing stuff straight at the screen. Knives, guns, and lots of flaming arrows!!
But to give it it's due, I was young in the 80's and I got quite a thrill out of it. My dad was convinced that one of the arrows would actually come out the screen and kept trying to pull us out of the way. He does get excitable.
And then in the 80's the floodgates seemed to open for a while and everything was going 3D. Even Jaws! I thought then we were on the cusp of greatness, and did not even realize that this format had lived and died before in the 50's!
And yes, naïve as I was, we all thought that those special cheap little glasses contained a magic that could make the modern real world even more 3D. We would push sticks at kids faces wearing the glasses, and they would scream "oh it's all so real and 3D...It looks like it is really coming at me"!
When I was over in Vegas a couple of years back, stuck in the smokey casinos, not gambling just watching other people gamble (I am a cheap date), Me and my wife would slip away to the IMAX theatre in the Luxor and watch some 3D movies. No longer the two tone glasses, these just seemed to be grey, we would happily spend 30mins watching these movies, and the technology had definately moved on. We really enjoyed them.
So I can only hope that the 30 plus films being produced at this very moment in Hollywood will actually be good. Maybe less randomly pointing pointy things at the camera, and a much better plot line, and it might just work and take off this time.
Talking movies were ridiculed to begin with, but hey, they seem to be doing all right these days, even the real stinkers.
I personally cant wait to be wowed by the movies again, but I am easily pleased..... and maybe after 3D there will be 4D! Pass the popcorn, wow you nearly had my eye out!
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
It was a coveted position. All wanted it, but only one could have it, and yet this wondrous honour fell upon me at my lower school.
Yep, that's what I'm asking as well. Why me. Did I look like Milk Monitor material. Did I have an angelic face, where my hands the right size at that age to hold the bottles. Did I scream with responsibility.
I cannot answer any of those questions...... but I was proud to be the Milk Monitor.
I had a little badge that said milk monitor. Oh how the other children coveted that badge. I won't lie to you, I used to shine it up with my little grey jumper sleeve. When you are Milk Monitor you have to have standards you know.
But for the life Of me I cannot remember why I got the job. Was I the nearest to the door, did they do a ballot and I won. Was it down to the fact that I was bought up to hold doors open for teachers. (It was manners....I was not a crawler) or was it something more in the realms of destiny.
A chance conversation with my dad the other week revealed to me that he too had been Milk Monitor at his school. Was this my destiny. Is there some inter school code of honour that means that the offspring of the coveted Milk Monitor get preferential treatment, and are then too welcomed into the halls of Milk Monitor land.
What it gave me was respect from teachers. I don't know why? There is something about being a head boy or head girl that automatically gives you a little edge of power and possibly the chance of seeing into the hallowed 'TEACHERS STAFF ROOM' But I had started out on the lower rungs of Milk Monitor, and bye jove I was going to Milk it for all it was worth ( I can only apologise for that pun).
Before morning break I was allowed to leave our classroom and walk down to the delivery bay. Where each classroom had their crates of milk. My responsibilities covered 4 class rooms, where I would go and deliver these crates one by one. Then finally delivering our classroom crate, the specially hand picked crate that had not been in the direct sunlight all morning, to my class mates.
Then It was my job to hand out the milk bottles, they were only tiny bottles, and a straw to each classmate. Of course I would pick my bottle out first, and I always had two straws. I made sure I did not have the milk bottle with the dried bird muck on the lid. Then I would hand out the bottles, carefully weighing up my audience and giving out premium bottles to my favourites.
Oh the power. But I often thought it was a little unfair that other kids could not do it. Especially when it was raining. I often wondered on those cold wet days, maybe I should deputize somebody for the day to let them enjoy the thrill of being milk monitor. But alas with power comes gret responsibility and I was not allowed.
So for all of you out there who did not manage and craved so much to be the milk monitor.....Now you can.
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
Firstly, I know it's not one of those trendy sports, and I know it has a low brow reaction from my friends......but I just love darts!
I have worked in loads of Advertising agencies..... and not once has an account handler suggested wining and dining clients at a darts match. Football, all the time. Most agencies I know have use of a corporate box. Rugby again, seen as an upper class sport. Formula 1 again is a popular one to take the clients to. But alas Darts less so.
But why? It has the skill of any other sport. It has the tension of any other sport, it has the speed of any other sport, and it has the unpredictability of any other sport. But why so low brow.
I was hooked as a young lad by the Eric Bristow, John lowe, keith deller era. The arenas where sponsored by cigarette companies, and the air was thick with smoke, and the smells of stale beer and cheap lager. And yet the cream always rose to the top. In any sport you have to have the outsiders, the just there to make up the numbers, and the favourites. It got to the point where the two greats Eric Bristow and John Lowe where the titans, and the final was already set before the end of the tournament. Basically you had to decide out of those two, who you were going to pick. The crafty cockney.... Skill personified, a natural swinging talent, with that cheeky glint in his eye, a quip and a friendly chip on his shoulder. A darts master. Sometimes the villain sometimes the hero. Then you had John Lowe. A serious looking man, a steely determination and skill blistering out of the ends of his fingertips. John Lowe stood tall like a Clint Eastwood character and stared down the dartboard until it relinqued to his skill. Both top players, both bubbling with skill and talent.
I always wanted to see John Lowe win. I don't Know why, maybe because that's who my dad supported. When the darts was on in our household, we would follow each match and each set of darts to it's conclusion. Mesmerised by it. The hypnotic thud thud thud of the darts hitting the board. The sing song way the caller shouts out the darts scores, and the shear joy for the player when they drop in a 180. Have you ever tried to hit a 180. For years I could never do it. The blokes on TV did it regularly. Once a match had finished I would go out into the cold garage and try and replicate it. Most times I could barely get a 20 or a single treble twenty. Just recently I have started hitting 180's more regularly but maybe over a year of playing only 24. Whereas you watch the Phil taylors, The count, the Mervyn Kings of the modern darts and they are hitting over that in one tournament.
But still over all these years I am more of a closet darts fan. I try not to be, but if you start a new job it's always Which football team do you support! My reply is none, as I find it one of the most boring over ego's sports going. The next question is what sport do you like then. I always reply honestly with Formula 1 being my top sport, but I do always add followed by darts. Some peoples reaction shear horror, then a nervous laugh.... and then non conversation from that point on. But every so often you get someone that follows it, and you see a little light bulb go on behind their eyes as they are allowed to connect with someone else about this great sport.
And it is a great sport. Take a set of darts and try and hit 180. Then once you've achieved that memorise the out shots on the doubles and try and hit the coverted 170 out. Treble twenty, Treble twenty and Bullseye!!!!! It's difficult. To this day my highest out score is 126! I'm still a long way off.
So ladies and gentlemen..... I urge you...... Let's Play Dart's!
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
Well you can't turn on the telly, or read a newspaper these days without some ill informed reporter shouting in a slightly panic ridden voice about the end of the world, being just around the corner (that bloke on oxford street could have been right then!) or how the pound has plummeted to a 15 year low, since records began 15 yrs ago.
Each day the channels and the news reporters try and out do the other with doom. One will quote, stock market loses 15 million in one day, and the paper just next to it on the paper stand reads 18 million lost in the city in one day. Wow there is a 3 Million pound difference there! That's a lot.
I have to stop myself screaming at the telly these days, when someone says this is the worst data to have come out since records began! They don't tell you that records of the specific event have only been recorded in the last 15 years. That's only back to 1994.
The other thing that really riles me, is that the footsie 100 can rise for five days straight without any coverage..... Yet if it drops for one day, it's in the news..... If it drops for two days, It's a catastrophe.... if it drops for 3 days, we may as well shoot ourselves, the aliens are coming to invade the world, were all doomed!
E sales are up massively year on year, but high street retail is suffering. Why is this..... One if you live in Britain the prices are too expensive, Two if you shop on the high street the prices are too expensive, Three shops in Britain have basically become the 3D version of the Argos catalogue . You go in, browse the items, touch it, feel it, abuse it to see if it scratches easily and then you go home and do an internet search for the cheapest version of it.
Oh yes and experts! Wow, there seems to be an expert for everything. 1 yr old fossil found, we will now ask Dr peter spligdolski who is an expert on 1 yr old fossils his opinion.
Expert should be reclassified as average Joe with an opinion and guess work. Just because someone is referred to as an expert does not mean they are right. Most cases they are towing a company line or they are just widely guessing and getting paid to give their opinions. Because lets remember, nobody, anywhere does anything for FREE.
So with that all in mind, I still and always "will work for money"
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
I can't get enough of it! I had not realized I had an addiction, but wow. I am like a chain smoker with mugs instead of ciggies. I just finish one delicious hot cuppa, and my brain is already saying to me..... Oooh I fancy a nice brew.
My poor old kettle must be getting a thumb indentation on it's 'on' switch. Now don't get me wrong on this. I am not one of those tea snobs. You will find no Lapsang doo dah in my cupboards, or this trendy Roobush malarky, ( I worked in an office once which was full of women, and they used to pontificate and try and get me to drink Roobush, OOh you must try it, it is divine)! Let me just stop them there. It is not divine. It is a teabag in hot water without milk. Not in my book TEA!
No I am a simple man (much said) and I have simple tastes. I do not care if it is a teabag with the sweepings up off the floor from a tea house in an economy range, a builders tea, in a round bag, pyramid bag etc. I Just want TEA.
People get a bit funny about tea as well, not me. People come to my house, and I offer them a tea, and some of them say have you got this brand, or do you have this speciality tea etc. To which I gleefully reply no. I have tea or I have not got tea. You either drink it or you dont. Some people, parents in particular having been on the planet for a number of years and proffess to you that, oh they don't mind what they get, will then take a sip and say something like, that's a bit strong or that's a bit weak, or do you put the milk in first.
I am afraid I was bought up with manners, and would not dream of saying to someone that has made the effort of making me a lovely cuppa, ooh that's too strong, or too weak. I am happy to have tea as it comes, as long as it has milk and tea.
I am afraid that the idea of a Tea break has long gone, and we will grab a couple of mouthful swigs when we can, on a platform, in a cafe, or mainly at our desks staring into the infinity of a computer monitor. But I can hand on heart say that every mouthful of tea I do get, it sends a happy message to my brain. There would be rioting if tea was taken away.
And of course I know that tea has it's other detractors, the well rounded aromatic sexy sounding coffee with it's silly rituals and even more ridiculous names, and yes I have gone to the dark side, mainly when I am tired or watching an F1 Grand Prix in the middle of the night while sensible people sleep, but I always come back to tea, because unlike coffee it is not a snake oil salesman.
An honest cuppa for an honest man (okay I did once eat some sweets out of the Pick and Mix at Woolworths without paying, but I have lived with that guilt so they were not free), none of this Hippy coffee empire rubbish with it's stereotype clients. Just a good cuppa...or two....make that three, oh go on then just another, oh yes and the parents are coming round so I will have another then, and then their are the ad breaks.....and....oh yes and...ooh and I could.
Well, I can hear the kettle has just finished boiling (finally) so
The virtual kettles on..... So while I let it boil i just have this to say
There's a lot of bad news out there... I appreciate that, but of course some news is more bad (wow terrible English).
Some of you may have heard about (as the newspapers and media channels like to put it) Chaos, crisis, catastrophe, plunging stocks, since records began news that the finances of the nations might not be as healthy as we thought in 2007-2008. But amazingly and to prove a point that really bad news is buried, I have only just found out from a mate down the pub that.........
....... Bill Oddie the great Bird watcher and gruff grumpy and dangerous wildlife Tv presenter has walked away from the next series of Spring Watch!!!
I know.....That's what I said! I used more 4 letter words than that, well I had had a few glasses of Exmoor gold, but yes, the sentiment was the same.
Bill Oddie is Spring Watch! I can't get enough of the Live Spring Watch and Autumn Watch episodes when they are on. Bill is often off hand, grumpy, impassioned, and does not suffer fools gladly. You never know what he is going to do or say and for that matter even though they do rehearsals neither do the directors!!
Tv gold happens nightly as Bill often has to correct the other woman ..... what's her name... no can't remember, as she chattily gives over a fact that she has been given as if it's her own (Kate Humble i think) and Bill rolls his eyes and corrects her like a school master would.
After I had cleaned up after spilling my pint at the news, and realising that it had been well and truly hidden in the news, I decided to wear an arm band in memory of the great man.
Come back Bill! All is forgiven, even your dirty sex talk about the ducks in the studio, not quite Manuelgate but very close given the audience.
We have a very popular badge that says 'I'm an Oddie Watcher' see website: http://thebiglittlebadgeco.com under Film and Tv, but of course I am going to have to change that to 'Where's Oddie' now!
Oddie we love you and salute you.
Oh well that's me done for the day..... the virtual kettle has boiled now
Well the virtual kettles on, so while I just let that boil away in the background we would just like to say a big thank you.
Thank you to all our customers over the last year. We have met some interesting people, we have heard some interesting reasons for why you chose certain badges, and all in all we have enjoyed serving each and everyone of you.
As you all know by now.....each of our little 25mm badges is very special to us. They are created based on what's happening in the world, how we are feeling and on what you are looking for. We shed a little tear as we send off each of our badges to it's new home. But we know from feedback that our little badges are very well looked after. During the snow the other week, we sent out orders on the Monday. We warned customers that although we managed to get to the postbox, the postman might not. The feedback was of understanding. One customer let us know that...."the badges did arrive...they were a little cold, but they warmed them by the fire.....and they soon perked up". Knowing we have such loyal and understanding customers is a real joy.
Now for some other news. You can now buy direct straight from our website. We have set up each badge with an add to cart button. When you have chosen the ones you would like just simply pay via PayPal, either with a credit or debit card or with a PayPal account. You don't even need to have a PayPal account to buy from us.
