Category: Other stuff

Pretty concise and snappy title eh? Yes I do have a life outside Mountain Biking. No, it’s no better written or researched.

What goes up…

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Photography4 Comments

… must hit a tree and then explode into a thousand sad little fragments. But, before we get to that, I need to explain the level of detailed planning that precedes creating a window of time into which you can smash what used to be money.

Kids Easter Egg hunt starts at 12:30sharp. Flying starts at 10. So roll out of bed at 8 and:

08:01: Release mad dog and receive traditional greeting of big slobber and 30kg of misplanted paw on my foot.

08:05: Engage in daily re-enactment of “attack of the killer chickens” as you release the hungry, fat peckers , and then run away as they hunt you down assuming there is a hidden lettuce about your person.

08:08: Complete removal of chicken poo from beju poultry residence. Count chickens and sum only three. Recount does not magically produce another chicken. Notice dog has helpfully nosed gate open through which “free range Willy” has motored through.

08:09 Corner chicken and attempt to catch through use of approved “double arm grab”

08:14 Decide whoever approved that technique has clearly never dealt with Killer Chickens before. Examine bloodied peck marks while Mexican standoff breaks out. Dog attempts to break back in by herding escaped bird using an approach best described as “Bottom Sniffing”

08:16 Dog joins human on the bloodied side of Mexican standoff having been chastised by the beak of doom

8:17 With a “fuck this, it a sodding chicken not a bloody grizzly bear“, successfully apprehend squawking pray using “big wing” arm movements followed by swift Rugby tackle.

8:18 Flushed with success, don’t notice chicken flushing herself as she squeezes out a line of shit, perfectly aimed at my recently (as of 30 second ago) pristine new fleece.

8:19 Look into mad eye of the Chicken and know it’s laughing at me.

8:20 Return chicken to POW side of fence, attempt to clean up fleece poo but merely marinate remainder of clothing with liquid shit. All chickens now pissing themselves laughing.

8:25 Stalk out, return to house, stick both model batteries on charge, decant entire truck full of spares, wings, God knows what else from one room into the 4×4. Congratulate self on remembering to actually pack same number of wings as fuselages*

8:40 Wolf down breakfast. Embark on walk with domesticated Wolf.

8:41 Notice key component of Dog Walking missing, namely Dog.

8:45 After some frantic searching, discover Murf in the pond with his “oh it’s me you wanted was it? Sorry I thought it was the other Murphy you’ve been shouting at desperately for the last five minutes” look.

09:20 Return with Dog. Wave in general direction of family and promise imminent return from amazing flying session in which the repaired Boomerang will once again aspire to aviation.

10:30. 20 hours repair, 20 minutes flying. Let’s just leave it there should we. Okay let’s not, it was another TREE, ANOTHER ONE. One day I’ll have a proper accident where I crash into the ground or myself. But no, I just clipped a tree on the final approach. Final being the right word. Plane is wrecked, completely. I’m setting fire to it later.

11:50: Completed my first ever landing with a proper engine-y plane. Well second if you want to count 25 foot in a tree as a “landing”. Second training aircraft is nowhere near as nice to fly, but at least it still looks like an aeroplane. Amusingly everyone was commenting on what a great repair/recover/rebuild job we’d done on the boomer. Makes smashing it into a million pieces so much more easy to bare.

12:30: Return home. Sweep out sorry remains from the truck.

It’s still there. I can’t bring myself to sort it out. What you probably won’t believe – and I know I’m struggling – is apparently, my flying is actually pretty damn good and not many people make their first landing after 8 training flights. Loads of people have been in that tree. Think of it as a rite of passage they say.

I’m thinking of a beer 😉

* Ask me why. Go on, ask.

Kneed to know

On By AlexIn Other stuff2 Comments

Well the prognosis from the lovely – if quite headteacher scary – physio is that I’ll probably live. I much prefer her deep knowledge of all things mid-leg bendy, than the doctor whose diagnosis could best be summed up as “you’re old, now get out and stop wasting my time”.

It’s not all beer, skittles and bikes. Apparently the muscles surrounding the knee are weaker than a metrosexual southern cup of tea. This is probably due to the complete lack of conditioning I undertook after beating it with a spiky rock a couple of years back. I idly wondered if treating the inflammation with lager, and then riding the crap out of it while pretending it didn’t hurt counted.

Apparently not. Anyway I’ve a whole load of silly exercises to do, many of which I’m performing at my desk much to the amusement of the rest of the office. You see, to tighten all the appropriate muscle group seems to require a full on “pushing out a big turd” facial malfunction. A gurn if you like, but even more comedic.

Anyway dignity is nothing more than a long discarded relic of younger times, and if this means that I’ll be avoiding the man with a drill and a huge invoice, I am prepared to march naked around the office while sexually troubling the photocopier*. The next set of exercises are allegedly even sillier but I’m struggling to see how. Unless it involves the aforementioned photocopier.

To celebrate, on Friday I’m going to go and ride a mountain bike. First time for three weeks, but I’m sure I’ve lost none of my fabled fitness or awesome trail skills. You never know, I might even find some. This evening I indulged my other passion and walked up a big hill so I could park my glider in ANOTHER tree. Hawthorn if you’re interested.

The kids seems to think this hobby is actually nothing more than travelling the county to fall out of difficult trees. Still the bleeding will likely stop before the weekend, and to show my luck is on the turn, my other – newer and rather expensive glider – disappeared downwind before arriving at ground level well out of sight, but with an expensive crump.

Amazingly it survived unscathed which I am taking as a portent that in terms of divided medical opinion, I’m on the righteous side of the undrilled. At least for now 🙂

* I may have slipped this into my objectives for a bit of fun come year end.

Jumps’n’Bumps

On By AlexIn Bikes, Mountain Bike Riding, Other stuff, Photography3 Comments

The feeling of mental limbo never really left me this weekend. There was this great big HONC sized hole into which I kept throwing stuff; yet while my body was amusing itself with adequate distractions, my mind was still wheeling away in the Cotswolds.

And while I did consider a 48 hour full on sulk and grump, it seemed a shame to waste two days of fine weather, and a family that’s not seen me as much as it probably should lately. Although on Saturday I abandoned them again to wind out mental tension in big hills while crashing small gliders.

I even manged to fly the new, fast one which, being German designed, had a perfectly logical build process as long as one remembered to adopt the correct “installation position“. Being English, I’d wandered off the precise instructions to practice the art of wingtip painting. Practice being what I needed, as everyone within a five mile blast radius of the spray tin is now calling me “Mr Overspray“.

The tail – especially bad – looks as if I’ve spatchcocked a gerbil, such was the red splatter effect of the over enthusiastic paint dribbler. It still flew very well – even if I didn’t – although the last landing crash ripped the nose off. An arrival I am now thinking of as “The Michael Jackson”

The obstacle course I built for the kids on Sunday lasted all the time it took for them to become bored with it. So ten minutes later, I harvested some wood for my now insulated timbered erection*, and built an eight inch lip for the pair of them to roll over.

Abi not quite sure Committed

Which they both did rather well although Verbal decided – as she is nearly 10 and therefore knows everything – that she’d ignore my patient instruction to stand up, pedals level as she dropped off. Still at the end of an hour, it was her with the sore bottom and me with the knowing smile. Random just nicked her sisters’ bike and mosied on over with a look of not oft seen concentration.

Abi on the edge Testing the jump

I had to have a go. Obviously. Normally any photo of me riding clashes terribly with my own internal image of trail God. This one bucks the trend in no way whatsoever, but at least I’m looking quite thin. And that’s not just on top.

Whether that will continue after the scary Physio tells me off this evening, I’ll let you know. I’m so desperate to ride right now, I’m even considering commuting in the pissing rain tomorrow. One year, I’ll get injured in the Winter and not feel as if another summer will be lost to encroaching fat and decreasing fitness. I am very much hoping it will be this year.

* I am unlikely to get bored of this joke. Sorry.

This morning I was woken up by a…

On By AlexIn Other stuff3 Comments

… baby sheep. Oh don’t look so shocked, we’re men and women of the world here, and I’m sure we’ve all woken up with the occasional moose airily passing it off as the result of extenuating circumstances*

Years ago, I shared a house with three other student-y blokes, one of which had a year long unbroken record of notching the bedpost with a different girl every month. One Saturday morning he lurched white faced into the kitchen, and wailed that he had found a horse in his bed.**

We mocked him with the complete absence of evidential residue such as nose bags, piles of oats and hoof marks. He silently raised his shirt to show a marching line of indents that did look suspiciously equine.

Our belief systems were further shaken when emerging from his room was a women who had clearly been a horse in a previous life, and only narrowly escaped being one this time around. When she’d finally galloped off, he fell – a broken man – into a chair, and today still has a completely understandable fear of jodhpurs.

Anyway, the point. The lambs are out looking cute enough to eat. Which of course they will be before too long, but let’s instead thing of them as a springy trigger for my favourite season. Light until 8PM already, commuting without anything to warm the ailing knees, stuff exploding from the ground and the promise of a long, hot summer.

Okay the bit about the long hot, summer is aspirational but a man can dream eh? Although nigthmares are my current sleep thoughts of choice. Mainly around a very, very sore knee meeting 100 kilometers of hilly Cotswolds.

H’mm and indeed ARRRGHHH.

* An unstoppable shag fuel of alcohol and testosterone.

** Not a horse’s head. The Staffordshire Mafia couldn’t afford real animals and would instead substitute a nasty looking potato.

I’ve got WOOD!

On By AlexIn Other stuff, Photography5 Comments

Oh yes – feast your eyes on our huge erection. I accept it currently has all the aesthetic beauty of a WWII pill box and is lacking some weatherproofing and – well – a roof, but fuck me, am I glad to finally get something started. We seen to have been planning for ever, and my impatience gland was close to an uncontrolled explosion when delay followed problem which inevitably threw up some other insurmountable issue.

And always the budget spreadsheet went one way and my wine consumption the other. So yesterday I was mightily cheered when our Farmer neighbour unexpectedly turned up with his digger*, and removed most of the hated pea shingle in an afternoon that history shall record as “shovel-fest”

Ken and the mighty digger. When do I get a go.

I’ve no idea where it’s all gone – like all things here redistribution is the bedrock of the Herefordshire barter system, so some bloke will have a new drive while we receive half a ton of topsoil from a nutter mining for badgers.

Office. Needs some work. Workshop. Draft version

Anyway back to the building. It’s going to be great although it seems too big on the outside, and too small once inside. This reverse Tardis phenomenon is probably nothing more than a three dimensional mental shift caused by the staggering amount of shit I know we’ve got to fit in there. It was designed for eight bikes** and now has to house those, a proliferation of models, assorted associated crap and – of course – the restitution of the tool wall.

And is this resurrection of the blessed shrine to percussive engineering timed with the Christian festival of Easter a coincidence? I think probably not. Much work to be done before then including solving the brow furrowing complexity of electrickery. Apparently if my power requirements ever meet the physical world, we’ll be needing to add a sub station to our ever lengthening list of projects.

* Which sat around doing nothing while important decisions were debated over a cup of tea of three. I became bored pretty quickly and cut to the only question that really mattered “Hey Ken, can I have a go on the dumper truck?”

** You haven’t missed anything. Obviously Carol and the Kids have a rather disappointing one each.

Barbara Woodhouse

On By AlexIn Other stuff8 Comments

Now there was a women who took no shit at all when it came to training dogs. I remember watching, back in the eighties, with an uncomfortable feeling those supine hounds had been beaten with a big slipper before the cameras rolled.

Our dog would just eat that slipper. Last night he was reintroduced to both Puppy Training and half of his twelve siblings. I wonder if you are as unsurprised as I to hear that this combination augured ill for a set of technical exercises where the pack leader was expected to maintain absolute control over her dog.

Murphy spectacularly failed to sit, lie down, wait and heel. He did however hone his signature move of tearing off up after his brothers with Carol gamely hanging onto the lead. Sadly she was no longer standing at the time, rather ploughing a lonely full length furrow as the not-really-a-pup showed no obvious lessening of velocity even tugged down by a human anchor.

When commanded to “COME” he gave it the full “who me? you’re kidding right?” before disappearing in a twenty four legged Labrador scrum with an excitable whelp. The other dogs weren’t much better, but apparently Murf was a) extra specially bad and b) a bit of a ring leader in whipping up naughtiness in his brothers and sisters.

Carol returned with a look like thunder which she soon drowned in a very large glass of wine. The dog – obviously – just looked very pleased with himself. I’m not sure whether to try and train him properly or just attach a carriage and use him as a canine taxi.

Next week, my attendance has been mandated. Which consideirng my legendary low boredom threshold is unlikely to improve discipline. Still it’ll be nice for someone else to be in trouble for arsing about for a change.

And, on the upside, he’s not tried to eat any of the “Fat Four” chickens. On the downside, he doesn’t like raw egg, and they are starting to pile up a bit. So how many fried egg sandwiches can a honed athlete such as myself be expected to eat?

Eggcellent.

On By AlexIn Other stuff2 Comments

Finally AN EGG. After a week in which the chickens have consumed a gross ton of feed, laid around a thousand poos – most of them in their hutch* and a few in Murphy’s mouth – and wandered around in a vaguely charming way.

A rough calculation informs that we’re running at£63 an egg. Which tells you everything you need to know about the myth of self sufficiency. My firm – if uninformed – hope is this miracle of egg birth shall spur the others on through a period history shall record as “The Great Laying”

I must offer myself up as the blunt hammering instrument to Carol’s architect so we can furnish the chirpy little buggers with some improved accommodation. Unfortunately, it sits somewhere around 53 on a to-do list topping out at over 100. Number one of which is exactly how we’re going to manage the lower half of the house having added six inches to the existing slab.

My only current solution is to chop my head off so I don’t bang it on the door frames.

I would have taken a picture of the first egg but didn’t because a) it looked just like an egg and b) it’s just been eaten.

* It’s not a Chicken House at all. It’s a bijou rabbit hutch conversion that – from the sounds of vigourous pecking – may not be quite large enough for four fat chickens.

Extreme LED sheep video

On By AlexIn Other stuff2 Comments

No I didn’t type that wrong.

Sheep on YouTube

There are clearly people out there with too much time on their hands. And I, for one, could not be happier.

The re-enaction of ZX81 tennis is, without doubt, the most amusing thing I’ve seen done to sheep for a very long time*

2.44 minutes of pure genius. Right back to work, I’ll try and write something amusing, soon. Although I’d be inclined to pin my hopes on “soon” and “something” 😉

EDIT: I’ve shown this to a few people, and there are those souls with no imagination in their hearts that say it’s a fake. I KNOW it’s a fake, I don’t care. It’s still brilliant.

* that I’m prepared to admit too.

Buckle up

On By AlexIn Other stuff6 Comments

The old busy working excuse must again be trotted out, as the primary reason why the hedgehog has resisted any signs of springing out of hibernation since last week.

This ongoing ‘having to work for a living‘ issue has also had to fit around Random contracting Chicken Pox (the day after we brought the chickens home – coincidence? I think not), increasingly frantic activity around heating systems, frustration over floor heights, mental gurning trying to sort difficult electrics, and the imminent prospect of great big sodding trenches being dug.

Fear not, electronic therapy shall be rolled out as early as tomorrow with six hours of train time to fill. I’m very excited about the workshop/office/re-homing of the beer fridge which is currently being machined out of solid, er, woody stuff in a big shed in Hereford. And I know you’ll be almost as excited to hear some more about that 😉

In the meantime, let me leave you with this: slipping on the corporate disguise after riding in this morning, was an unusually uplifting experience. As I’ve had to tighten my belt another notch to stop my trousers falling down*. Okay my knee is pretty well buggered, and commuting at this time of year is fraught with issues around “thermal shrinkage”, but ANOTHER NOTCH and one that has never been used before.

This cheered me up so much, I immediately dispatched an enormous bacon sandwich to celebrate 🙂

* Still frowned upon in our offices. Seems a little old fashioned to me.

The artist formally known as ‘catflap’

On By AlexIn Other stuff, PhotographyLeave a comment

Would now like the world to know, they are now to be referred to as “Dog Flap“

When Murphy was little*, a favourite trick was to follow you outside by somehow squirming through the cat flap. This was particularly traumatic for the cat, especially if it was trying to come back in at the same time.

Yesterday, the dog was clearly feeling some “separation anxiety” as Carol had a few other things on here mind, and four mad chickens in her hand. Ironically one of the other ‘things’ was a spotty Random who is the last member of the family to get Chicken Pox.

Murphy decided that since he can no longer fit through the cat flap, he shall merely extend it by shoving his every increasing girth hard against it, until the door broke. Apparently, on escaping, he was delighted with himself and couldn’t wait to run over to Carol wagging his tail and giving it the full “You see I’m not totally stupid” expression.

Dog was marched back to doghouse, and locked in his cage. When I finally got home he exchanged his expression for “I was just sticking my snozzle out, and it broke. Honestly“.

Any more of that and he’ll be getting a kennel outside 😉

* It’s all relative. He was never exactly small, but now he is a Labrafantasorous.