Two little highlights of Plumstead High Street are worth a mention (or another mention as I am sure I have mentioned one or both before)
-The Cafe Royale a few doors along from Namaste
-The Punjabi Dhaba near the big Barclays Bank
The Cafe Royale is a small coffee shop with coffee that actually tastes of something. Its shown on the above map just west of Plumstead station. Capuccino’s are diligently salted with chocolate. There is a tribal Yemeni sword on the wall. There are comfy chairs to sit down and read your papers (there’s usually a few tabloids and local papers available). They try and aim for it being a western type coffee shop - I think they miss a trick there. I once came in and saw some lovely looking syrupy cake on the counter. They hadn’t intended it for general sale - it was a traditional ramadan breakfast dish. The immense politeness of the lady there meant she sold me a piece and it was delicious. I have had some of their normal patisseries and they are ok too - the pain au chocolat and danish seem to be provided fresh. There are some cellophane wrapped muffins. There are some peculiar looking takes on full dinners and breakfasts laid out in the glass cabinets - an entire cooked breakfast with unusal looking sausages and a ready-fried egg would be an example. I assume they get micro-waved prior to being served but I’m not entirely sure. Going back to the politeness - both the East Europeans who sometimes serve there and the Yemenis are really polite and friendly and not in the artificial Pret manner. Most traders in the High Street are matter-of-fact at the best and generally down in the mouth so some friendliness makes a pleasant change.
A wonderfully down in the mouth man with a droopy moustache usually serves me when I visit the Punjabi Dhaba formerly known as the The Village Restaurant. A Dhaba is a roadside cafe in Indian and this certainly has the food shack feel about it. You find it in Whit Hart Road opposite Lakedale Road. There is transport cafe style seating that often has a group of people being served with sizzling griddle-pans loaded with shikh kebabs and chicken wings. People might be anxious about the hygiene of the place when looking in but the food here is fine. They use various bases such as the mutton curry which they adapt according to the order. I frequently order Mutton Achar and so the standard curry is solemnly scooped up to disappear behind the partition. Much clattering follows and the modified curry arrives with its pieces of lime pickle and other additional flavourings five minutes later. Its nice watching your nan being cooked in front of you (I mean naan, sorry nan). And its really tasty. They also do traditional Indian breakfast there but I haven’t worked myself up to trying it yet. A current favorite order is a mutton biriani,a chana massala (spicy chickpeas) and a nan bread. This is enough for two and comes in at slightly over 7 quid with mint sauce and a bag of salad thrown in gratis. It’s not the same stuff you get in a normal British High Street the main difference being depth of flavor and (on the negative side) quite a bit of salt.
Another place in the High Street that has friendly outgoing staff is the Greggs in the High Street. The bad news here is people simply aren’t buying stuff there any more and the visiting manager said it was being lined up for closure. This would be depressing if it happens - the bread selection in Tesco’s is poor and over-priced and keeping a bit choice going would be good thing. So get in there and buy some chocolate eclairs for the sake of Plumstead.
That is not the time since my last post. It is the time since my Give-Up-Smoking-D-Day on 9th April 2006.
So my thoughts-
1. That seems a respectable amount of time 2. I hardly think about smoking 3. Ugh...I am fat
What else has happened in that time?
1. David died. 2. Eve died 3. Bought a house with R 4. Killed a lot of mice some with my bare hands 5. Followed the Dons from the Ryman Premier to the play-offs of the Conference 6. Gone to Cornwall a lot 7. Met lots of lovely lovely people including wee babies and new children 8. Discovered that staying in is usually the best option 9. Passed an A-level in "Plot of Desperate Housewives Studies" 10.I have become nerdier
I have even done a tiny bit of acting with resonancefm radio and The Southwark Mysteries and the associated to campaign to develop the Crossbones site. Please sign the petition for the latter and chuck cash mindlessly at both.
The rodents have retreated this year so I might have a bit more time to blog. Now where's the chocolate?
Picture by chashama at flickr '"Crone" April 9 2006'
The guys trapped in the mine in Chile are to be supplied with cigarettes according to this story on the BBC website
"The 33 miners will be sent two packets of cigarettes a day through a supply tube to share between them...until now they have had to make do with nicotine patches and gum, sent to them through a supply tube"
If this happened in Britain I wonder if this would be a legal possibility. Will the shaft still be a "workplace" or would it be treated as a "residence" where they would be allowed to smoke in the same way as you can in prison cells?
If it was temporarily designated as part of the British Houses of Parliament perhaps they could enjoy a puff assuming the Houses of Parliament's notorious exemption still applies.
R and I went to try out the Barclays Cycle Scheme that started yesterday in London. As you can see in this lop-sided Anti-bullying video my victim-come-able assistant had trouble getting started. The brakes had been over-tightened (we were told) making them incredibly stiff. Not all were as stiff and there is a simple way to check them that you'll find in the tips below. We soon got going.
The bikes - they look very clunky and heavy. I found them a very comfortable ride after a brief spell of adjustment. Shortly after starting I turned into the packed thoroughfare of Borough Market and was able to crawl along very slowly without having to use my feet at all for balance. They are incredibly stable. You feel enthroned on them. The gears are smooth and on the flat you can get a bit of speed on.
Docking stations - it would have helped me as a rider (but not as a resident) if they were bright orange and had thirty foot totem poles beside them and blared out air raid signals all day. It would make them easier to find. The map I had been sent showed a docking station on the North East side of Tower Bridge which is simply not there. I was close up to my thirty minutes and went hunting without a happy ending. I found one in Vaughan Way but arrived there just over the 30 minutes you get "for free".
Docking station assistants - they are just there for an introductory period. When R had trouble with the first bike a friendly and well informed assistant 'fessed up that he had never actually "been on one". This seemed to be the general rule with the assistants and that has got to be a bit daft in anyone's book. After the missing dock fiasco I caught up with R at another dock and explained the issue to the two assistants there. One of the assistants looked like I had accused her of being Raoul Moat's spirit guide. Way too defensive - the sort of defensiveness you get when you haven't been properly trained. The other assistant was pleasantly surprised when I gave positive feedback about the ride-ability of the bike so I guess other riders had been negative. Those stiff wheels one can assume.
Connecting and disconnecting-A lot of people have had trouble taking them out. Lift the saddle so the rear wheel is clearly off the ground before pulling the bike away from the dock. You'll want to do this for the stiff wheel check anyway (see below).
We didn't encounter the "full docking station" scenario. This is where you arrive at your destination and find you have nowhere to dock. As well as the non-existent dock mentioned above we did find a totally out of order dock (Panton Street) when we were going to collect a bike for a new journey. This didn't allow anything to happen and wasn't able to tell you where the next nearest docking station was - you wouldn't have been able to credit yourself the extra fifteen minutes either so a bum deal if you were running close to your thirty minutes.
Check the lights on the dock - I encountered two non-functioning docks (within an otherwise functioning docking station). Youhave to see green. R got pounced on by curious onlookers (see "Meet the People" below) just at the critical moment so was unsure if she had docked - so concentrate for a few seconds just to make sure. It can take a few seconds for the bike to be recognised and docked. We went to double-check that it had docked correctly online when we got home but the system was down (and continues to be down at the time of writing).
Meet the people - if you crave attention get on one of these before the novelty wears off. This is why people spend loads on clothes and speedy cars, I guess, except that instead of shying away in envy people were really open and communicative. A bit too communicative. Entering into a FAQ session whilst you're waiting for the lights to change on the Tottenham Court Road is a bit distracting. People in vehicles asked questions as we cycled along. It got a bit too much at times. I had a lengthy encounter with some woman who kept pulling incredibly long faces whenever any kind of charge was mentioned. "If you use it a lot it costs less than one pound a week" cue LONG FACE "if you are a professional thief and nick them you get £300 deducted from your credit card" Cue INCREDIBLY LONG FACE OF GOBSMACKED DISBELIEF. After each long face there was an immediate re-birth of enthusiasm which would go fine until any money was mentioned. And she didn't look poor. Meanwhile to my right a very gentle (probably medicated) young man in an anorak slipped in supplementary questions during the woman's dramatic pauses. Then some Angry of Woking type in a suite strode over and demanded "some maps please". I told him I didn't work for the scheme and that I was just a cyclist but he obviously didn't believe me and he walked off muttering about jobsworths.
Earlier in the day a nice, better-informed guy tried me to help me find a docking station as he could see I was lost. "My girlfiend says there's definitely one down there by a small park" - I thanked him and cycled off and soon realised the kindness was greater than the utility of his advice. He might as well have said "there are docking stations in London somewhere".
The weirdest one was the woman sternly shouting at me as I whizzed past "Where is the Swedish Embassy!" - quite who or what she thought I was I will never know - some sort of free-ranging tourist guide on wheels? Maybe they have them in Stockholm.
Hints and Tips
1. Check that the bike's rear wheel spins smoothy. raise the bike by lifting the seat and spin the back wheel. If it looks sticky try the next one until you get one that runs smoothly. 2. Carry a stop watch. You'll need to check how much time you've used yourself there is nothing on the bike that tells you. Adjust your seat height (very easy to do) and load your bags into the basket before you undock to stop wasting any of your thirty minutes. 3. Get a members key even if you're going to be an infrequent user - for the extra three quid you get a lot of convenience . Doing Tip #1 (above) may not be possible without a key (I'll need to check this). I am still not sure if the £3 fee is per key or per order. You can order up to four keys per account (for your non credit card carrying teenage family and friends). I found registration very easy but you do need a credit or debit card. 4. On your first journey put in some planning - though I am an ok cyclist and know Central London quite well combining the two was harder than I thought. I got completely befuddled at Berwick Street when on my way to Wardour Street. My theory is that when you are walking you have more mental route planning time. On a bike you're always ahead of yourself - and its not just routes to "where-you-are-going" but routes to "the-nearest-docking-stations-to-where-you are-going" that you need to calculate. Look at a variety of route planners if you can. The route I had down Cleveland Street from a Tfl cycling map had changed due to one way systems. 5. If you have the opportunity to take some spare maps or literature do so - it will save you chat-time with interested strangers. Explaining the pricing scheme is complicated I can assure you. 6. Look at the Highway code section for cyclists if you're not a motorist already to better understand the road signage - the maze of streets in the centre of town are quite confusing with their various restrictions. As you are riding on public property you're expected to obey the rules of the road. 7. Don't think "Bike Hire" think "Public Transport Journey". This came home to me when R was speculating about the ability to take Scheme Bikes on the Thames Clipper service. There's no point - she was thinking in terms of hiring a bike for a period of time. Her sequence was "Collect bike -cycle to pier- embark with bike on Clipper-travel to desired pier-disembark with bike continue and cycle on to final destination where bike is returned". The proper sequence is "collect bike - dock bike near pier- FORGET ABOUT BIKES ENTIRELY AND GET ON WITH NORMAL LIFE-get off boat and start another completely different journey on a new bike." It is not a bicycle hire scheme. Its "a flexible self-propelled element of the public transport system based on a bicycling model". 8. FIVE MINUTES - that's the time you have to wait between docking your bike and setting off on a new journey. The longer the bike remains unreturned the steeper the hourly rate but there's nothing to stop you breaking your journeys into smaller bits apart from this five minute wait time. The scheme organisers emphasis time and again that this is all about short journeys.
A website has sent me my annual message to my future self asking how well I am getting along with quitting smoking.
Alright thank you.
Disappointed to hear yesterday an old friend had gone back on them after 7 years off.
I will be going to a party tonight that will take me back to the days when I used to work with him. The venue in Bethnal Green was a solid smokers paradise - it will be interesting to see how many of us have kept up smoking and how many have quit.
The website is www.43things.com idf you fancy making any kind of resolutions.
As my quit-o-meter crashed out of existence some time ago I am really hazy about how many years I have been off now. Is it three in April - surely its longer? I did a quick money-saved count the other day and was disappointed. I always managed to keep my smoking budget arountd the ten pound a week mark. If I had been smoking normal fags I would have saved a lot. What I have saved by not smoking roll-ups doesn't even cover this years council tax. Still not to be sniffed at/puffed at.
Another advantage to packing in smoking is that the van's cigarette lighter is constantly free for its other role as general charging socket.
With the cold weather and another travel mug going leaky on us R couldn’t resist taking things to a whole new level and bought an electric travel mug. Not the one in the picture which you can also charge from a usb socket. I will buying that one.
My brain is also trying to recover from Avatar.
Firstly a bread and butter issue for this blog. Sigourney Weaver has a cigarette (and makes a big deal about it too) when she comes out of deep freeze. I thought stars were banned from doing that kind of thing nowadays. She only seemed to have one though. Maybe one too many as later in the film the Flourescent Disco Tree doesn’t allow her to body swap at a critical moment – perhaps punishment for self-pollution? Or is the smoking just a reference to one of the Alien movies?.
The second is a bit more offbeat. It’s strange but whenever I recollect scenes from it they appear much more like cartoons than the first time experience. The scene like the one where he first runs out into the exercise yard is recalled by me as something like a high quality take on the Flintstones rather than "so incredible you can hardly believe its not real". Something juddery. Is it my brain simply insisting on the unreality of it all?
Went to look at Daily 5 the beginning of last week. R had told me there was a cappuccino bar in Lakedale Road. I had been up there to find it without luck which is quite a hard thing to do given the limited amount of shops there. It was the very last outlet on the left when heading towards the hill. The shop was empty apart from a man preparing food behind the counter. He said they had been open three months which surprised me and I said how the need for a coffee bar was often mentioned round here. A few pastries were on display above the glass case containing the sandwich ingredients. Some mini Red Bull Energy Boost bottles were also on the counter - perhaps some assumption about the popularity of coffee was being made here? The interior was clean and bright with two sets of metal tables and chairs getting wet on the pavement outside.
I ordered a cappuccino which I took without sugar but with chocolate and a latticed pecan pastry. It came to the grand total of £1.50. "A special promotion" the man said. It was all "to go" and I stepped outside to take a photo. An unleashed and unattended Rottweiler was strolling up Lakedale Road like they do and it paused to sniff my coffee before strolling into the cafe. It's rear end can be seen disappearing inside in the first of my photos above.
I set off to the station wondering if the man was aware of his new customer. When I was a bit further away I started wondering if he was still alive.
The coffee was disappointing with only the mildest hint of coffee flavour - it almost took an act of concentration to notice it far beneath the watery surface. By the time I had got past the Post Office the froth had all but disappeared leaving just a thin film. I decided to do a compare and contrast with Caffe Nero's offering at London Bridge which was on my way. When I got there I was surprised to find how lacking in flavour that was too. I had unbalanced things a bit by asking for a dash of cinnamon as well as chocolate at CN so it wasn't a true like for like comparison. I had however avoided sugar to start with to match my Plumstead brew - though I did sugar it when I was half way through and by this stage the coffee flavour really seemed to be stronger than my initial tastings. The froth of the CN was miles ahead of of the Daily 5's effort. It looked like it would never deflate - the choc and cinnamon powders sat neatly on top of the foam and added to the filtering effect. The chocolate with the Daily 5 went practically unnoticed - it just adhered to the bottom of the lid. If you took the lid off all the chocolate would be on the lid with none on the foam. And another thing, the first thing I noticed with the London Bridge drink was that it was HOT. Was this because I didn't have a sleeve on the cup - or does CN's coffee machine kick out more steam?
The pecan thing from Daily 5 tasted like a sausage roll that had been hastily converted into a danish -a tang of animal fat struck my tastebuds with gusto. It was not too bad after the first few bites though and it filled a hole but was a rather stolid experience. Still the combined price wasn't to be sniffed at. Or woofed at. So I'll score it two out of five - after all it is trying to be something that some people are very keen on having. I certainly want to see more espresso machines in action round here and not necessarily manned by mass-produced baristas. On the other hand I am not in a mad rush to get back there for more.
It deserves a bit of support though and a second chance so I aim to test out their double espresso - there is no hiding with an espresso. That will have to taste of something. My half-empty-bottle mentality means I suspect it might bear more resemblance to the distilled essence of a Turkish wrestlers post-bout battle trunks than to the humble, vivacious and not-too-difficult-to-use coffee bean. Let's hope not.
...could have been the name for my new blog. Perhaps it should have been. I just couldn't afford the the fee for Susan Sarandon's image rights. It is called Plumstead Hi and is really just very short notes about Plumstead things. It is hoped to have more than one contributing editor. In the meantime it's mostly.....well have a look if the subject interests you.
Have you ever been to Thamesmead? I have several times. Including the rather bizarre experience of watching a film under a flyover there on this very Friday evening. The event was part of a Design for London, Borough of Bexley and Borough of Greenwich redevelopment programme. The austere-as-they-can-be railings were garlanded with flowers and gold painted thrones were lined up on the pavement of Sewell Road as can be seen in the top picture.
The focus of the re-development is the Ridgeway. Basically its a sewer pipe running out of Sir Joseph Bazalgette's Crossness Pumping Station that has become a place of wild natural attractiveness. It has caught the eye of the above agencies and the evening was to introduce us to various ideas that are being floated.
Food made from fruits picked on the Ridgeway was given away along with a recipe book based on the same food. I enjoyed the horseradish and the damson compote.
A film had been specially produced with comments from some of the Thamesmead locals about the wonders of nature and all that kind of thing. Thamesmead locals are a kind of wonder of nature themselves although a disappointing number of them availed themselves of this pleasant freebie.
The film was a very broad brush affair - people did silly things on the Ridgeway. Yachts floated along the path - a questionnaire had been handed out and one of the questions had been what kind of new uses could be found for the Ridgeway. Sailing hadn't occurred to me - neither had "Ridge-ball" which is a game where people stand in a line along the path and rather lamely pass footballs along to each other. It was to get us thinking imaginatively about the future. Someone grasping at straws might have been more approriate. After all there isn't much you can do on what seems to be a narrow path atop a hump that has become a bit overgrown and flowery.
The film was projected against the supports for the Harrow Manor Way Flyover and cars and trucks would pass between the viewers and the screen - often with rather surprised-looking drivers taking in the rows of people in gold-painted chairs. Fun.
A slide show listed elsewhere in the underpass introduced various objectives and projects for improving the path and surrounding environment. It included a paddock for those Thamesmead folk who leave their horses grazing outside their tower blocks. The idea of little hideaways for children was greeted with a bit of scorn - a natural habitat for the not infrequent drug addicts of Thamesmead. Planting more edible plants was more welcome.
There were also two short films about the development of Thamesmead - a delightfully silly advert for the place where jolly old dears ran for buses full of vim and joie de vivre. Then there was a piece of socialist realism detailing the horrors of Life Before Thamesmead. It involved very bad wallpapering and outside toilets apparently. Thank God for the outright alienation of the concrete jungle.
I look forward to seeing how this all pans out and am pleased something is happening. I said I would litter-pick if such a thing ever got organised. R is very positive and thinks it's the beginning of something big.
The older films reminded us that big things have happened here before. Let's hope its more like Crossness in its durability than Thamesmead in all it's ......well.
Its Bank Holiday Time at last and there are plenty of things to postpone doing.
R is downstairs re-building the house as usual and I am trying to resist the urge to itch (and to help out).
A few weeks ago I went to visit the doctor. It was all a bit of a deja vue experience. I had being having very bad scratch attacks - a few years ago I made a succession of visits to doctors that culminated in one of them getting concerned about my liver and all that that involved.
I didn't hold out much hope of getting anywhere new with this visit. The Doctor immediately started saying it was eczema and suggested a whole bunch of unguents and creams that I had used before. I raised my concerns saying I had done all this before but she managed to convince me to give it another go.
So, for what seemed a vast cost I acquired the various gunks (one prescription per item-is that new?) then went home and have really enjoyed oiling myself up, with aqueous cream and the like, three times a day.
And do you know what ? - the scratch attacks didn't make their usual daily and nightly visits. (Sorry for the gory detail but I would frequently end up with bleeding shins - the scratch marks are now fading).
Aqueous cream is made of Liquid Paraffin with a bit of White Soft Paraffin thrown on top and a speck of cetostearyl alcohol to give it a bit of zing. Of course I smell a bit "gasoliney" but there are worse things I suppose - I feel it's my duty to bring a bit of excitement to our office anyway. It is just as well I don't smoke - I could easily go up in flames coated in this stuff.
I was also pointed in the direction of T-gel shampoo by the doctor. This has a new fragrance - what on earth was the original fragrance like as this smells very very medecinal (old school unsugared medecinal). This guy's review (scroll down the page) pretty much says it all. Or this gentleman's product review entitled -"T-Gel - Smell Like A Boy From The Blackstuff".
The attacks haven't completely gone away but my oiled up skin can cope with any scratching a bit better. So well done Doctor for urging me to go ignore my reservations and give it another try. As well as the relief of physical symptoms I also feel a bit happier thinking it's just my childhood eczema returning to annoy me. I had been anxious that this was a symptom of my damaged liver not doing its job properly and that it would be chronic and unrelievable. So for the time being ...PHEW!
Chocolate is in the firing line now that smoking has been pretty much banned and alcohol is on the same road. Some doctors thought it would be a good idea to slap some tax on the sweet brown stuff.
A smug Health Secretary insisted they wouldn't be putting those proposals in the next manifesto. The oh so trustworthy manifesto....
What is to come I wonder - continual footage of younsters blubbing out in provincial town centres on Saturday night their faces all gunged up with Mars bar residue? Scary dentistry statistics and the "Cost to the NHS"? Vast signs declaring "It is illegal to sell chocolate to anyone over 10 stone in weight" will stare out from the newsagent's windows - provided they can find any room what with all the other imposing signs the government has already forced them to display.
Well all you buzzing young things - I know you're desperate to contribute. And now's your chance with HM Revenue and Customs' something-or-other portal that helps you shape your future relationship with the taxman.
Don't forget to save it to delicious, join the Facebook group, tweet like crazy and jump off that tall building.
Here it is - I'm sure you little groovers will agree that was well worth the wait.
I was very glad to be in attendance at the Wedding of the (former) Miss MB. She had come along to this blog's Readers Meeting back in the distant past (pictured on the left).
She's an ardent supporter of West Ham and her delightful husband Bobby is Chelsea through and through. (He's not the shiny chap in the main picture - he's a self effacing man and might not want his picture posted up).
Given the fierce rivalries between these two sets of supporters they are lucky to have the (former) Miss MB's calm and reasonable Irish temperament to smooth over any disagreements.
I wish them both joy, happiness and a good local hospital.
Setting off this morning on the icey streets of Plumstead I found myself in a sidestreet several yards behind another pedestrian. He was carefully making his way along the pavement – he was also puffing occasionally on a skunk-based cigarette.
I have braved the “worst snow in 18 years” over the last few days (hence my pretty picture of St John's Waterloo above). A surfeit of the Blitz Spirit seemed to compel me to go to work on the day when it really hit London Transport Services -Monday 02 February 2009. It was a rare opportunity to visit Central London in one of its deserted days (cue silly video). R and I were also able to check out the new DLR station at Woolwich Arsenal. We cycled there as there were no buses. It offered some specatular views with snow still falling heavily.
Now – smoking and snow. Is it ever a successful combination? I really can't remember much more than a great risk of cigarettes getting extinguished. Unlike with rain people tend not to use umbrellas in the snow and so there is less protection for your little friend.
It wasn't actually snowing today though – but I seem to remember keeping your balance took precedence over enjoying a hit. It did go well with the inevitable wait for the delayed train however.
The lack of snowfall probably decided it for my fellow pedestrian as he weighed up his options before leaving the house this morning. Should he or should he not assist the problematic journey with a semi-hallucinogenic drug or should he try it sober? I know which way the decision went.
If he slips over in a quiet backstreet I hope he remembers to get back up.
Times are hard. Sacrifices are being made. Take my breakfast - Scambled Duck Eggs (Sainsbury Basics Range) with Blinys (Tesco Value Range) creamed cheese (Somerfield Essentials Range)and Smoked Salmon (ASDA Scrapings Range). No caviar whatsoever. Oh well. Che sera.
One sure fire way to cut down on your little food treats is to cut down on all food. And one way to achieve that is to take up smoking. If you really need to suppress your appetite you might as well get some minor drug thrill along the way.
So things must be particularly hard for anyone who decided to pack it in this New Year just gone. Not only is it the usual post-Christmas depression its possibly your actual 1930's Depression as well.
On the other hand with the kind of tax on tobacco goods you'll help with that backs-against-the-wall-postwar-austerity budget you're going need to survive. Alternatively you can take inspiration from the last depression and sign up as a pin-striped Mobster.
It surely can't be long to the appearance of the first, wholly tax free and wholly Patricia Hewitt - free, smoke-easies.
...and I mean that most sincerely. I really really do. Even though its a bit late.
The run-in to Christmas provided a little bit of local entertainment with a visit to the Comedy on the Common.
This is located in the Greenwich Rugby Football Club clubhouse on the Common near Plumstead Manor School.
It is a pretty comic venue all round.
R and I had the surreal pleasure of walking past it just before kick-off for the last Rugby (Union) World Cup. It was dark and we risked the dog mess and cut across the Common and past what seemed like an abandoned outhouse only to hear vast roars of excited voices coming from within. There are no obvious windows and no external lighting and the effect was pretty odd. It also has something of a tardis about it - you can't imagine getting many people inside it but you can as we joined fifty odd others in there for the comedy night.
The night was good - they had bottles of real ale behind the bar which dealt with worry number one. Worry number one is that clubhouses are the natural home of nasty old lager and keg bitters of the worst quality. The bad news was that they ran out towards the end of the evening so I unwisely resorted to a bootle of Koppaberg Perry.
The bill was advertised as four acts though it was actually two and a half, the half being the athletic compere Aj James. Dave Thomson kicked off and stripped off and Tony Law and his fantastic bizarre and hilarious imagination finished us off for the evening. Very funny- seek him out.
You can check out the acts (apparently- I haven't checked this) at www.comedycv.co.uk.
It started as a monthly event but its more like twice a month now. The evening is organised by someone called Nick and you can email for details at Comedyonthecommon@ntlworld.com. It's a bit of hike up the hill from Plumstead station but you can't complain for a "£10 including one drink" entrance price. And you certainly can't complain if you live in Plumstead as it makes an encouraging change to the normal entertainments in these parts.
Now that booze is off the agenda I am a bit uncertain if I'll be rushing to go again - "alternative" comedy certainly needs a bit of lubrication to work properly and I'm not sure if mineral water will quite hack it.
Hi - sorry about the greeting but if I change it it might mess up the attribution for the image. This Christmas has been not only smoke free but alcohol free as we have decided to go dry. It wasn't too bad as it goes - its unlike giving up smoking where you run into temptation quite quickly. The ability to stay dry requires the passgae of time other wise it just becomes a holiday from drinking that is soon followed by business as usual. R is finding it quite a novelty. And I am finding R quite a novelty too.
The kitchen to be more exact. Underneath the unique "dishwasher-on-wheels" to be even more exact.
Yes Death snapped his jaws down on the snoozle of one of the visitors. Not nice for the mouse - not nice for us. But at least the paranoia about people playing bizarre mouse-related tricks on us has eased a bit.
Apparently the second set of traps weren't working because the mice are babies and therefore too light to set them off - at least that is what the mousetrap salesman told R when she went back to complain. Obviously the free chocolate fattened one of them up sufficiently to trigger the trap. It reacted quickly but not quickly enough so spend an undisclosed amount of time with its snout crushed and unable to move.
R originally stated that the mouse was lying beside the trap unattached in any way as if it had had a heart attack beside it by pure coincidence. Or had ate a dodgy crumb elsewhere and succumbed to a dreaded disease and deliberately crawled to the trap in pursuit of a swifter death and not quite made it.
It couldn't have been too long suffering as we have been checking them frequently and it certainly seemed dead when I put it in the recycle bin.
I wonder what it will be recycled into?
Another method and its associated problems is discussed here. (For internet historians I don't think this is a blog, look at the dates, it's just a standard webspace provided by an ISP).
Thanks to aiaichristmas at flickr for the picture Funeral Wreath Arrangement
No wonder they're looking so pleased with themselves.
We got back and checked the traps tonight.
All of the Nutella was gratefully received by our local mouse community - it even looks like they've put the traps in the dishwasher after eating off them and then carefully put them back. No deado mice unfortunately
R thinks this means there are tens of thousands of mice in the house -"Think about it - three traps in three different places far apart in the house. It couldn't be a one man job. It must be a team effort."
She doesn't know mice like I do - their greed and cunning must never be underestimated.
I also suspect that the traps we bought aren't very good.
The only unmolested Nutella is in the humane trap - they're simply not daft enough to venture in there yet. But -look on the bright side-last night's binging might mean they've developed a taste for the brown stuff now and won't be able to resist.
Yes the pesky bastards are getting a bit cocky - a pale looking R reported to me at turning-in time last night that she had just seen two mice in the kitchen. They had run and hid behind the sink. They had then proceeded to mock her with their squeaking.
So the Nutella's been out tonight - the traps have been unpacked and primed with a professionalism that would make Jason Bourne blush and we're ready for action.
An all night vigil would be in order but its much more difficult without a steady supply of smokes as I found out trying to watch the US Election the other night. The deep monotony of BO's voice would put our mice to sleep. Without the countervailing stimulus of nicotine I couldn't keep awake. Which is just as well - the body needs rest after all.
And what kind of squeaky little critter does John McCain remind me of? Don't ask...I'm having one of my turns.
Thanks to Hardcore Shutterbug for his picture "Mickey's Hooked"
.jpg)
