TV or not TV...

No, Seany hasn't taken a sudden fascination in feminine attire. Well not wearing it anyway. And my interest in it's contents isn't exactly sudden either.

I've been musing over what an extravagant luxury the haunted fish tank in the corner of the room is. I don't tend to watch a lot of television and it's main activity seems to be to provide background noise while I'm busying myself with other stuff about the house.

After a rather disturbing start I'm pleased to say I've finally lost total interest in Big Brother and really couldn't care what goes on in there any more. I'd started enjoying Top Gear on a Sunday evening but it finished last night, a mere two weeks after I'd re-discovered it. I've posted more than necessary on my opinions of the local BBC evening news so I wouldn't miss them particularly although the early morning bulletins are often helpful. In fact, my viewing week is usually made up of whatever happens to be of interest on the Discovery Channel at the time.

Cue at this point unexpected letter from my cable company explaining that they were going to give me 16 new channels for free. They didn't go to town on the fact that almost half of the new channels are "+1" one hour later versions so I can get to watch the same crap twice. Tucked nicely underneath the list of new channels was a statement saying they were taking away the Discovery Channel, but I could still watch it if I wanted to subscribe to the next package up. Why did thay have to pick on that channel?

Let's think about this for a moment. I'm already paying over 130 quid a year for a TV license which is not optional if I want use of a TV at all. I'm then paying extra for "over 80 digital TV and radio channels" most of which I could happily live without. I'm stuck with this for a minimum 12 months (only 5 to go) and yet apparently they can chop & change them as they see fit.

I can already see some radical viewing changes due to take place in December. Anyway, got to go now, Miami Ink is about to start...

News in brief...

Dom turned 25 yesterday.

That was our excuse to go out and drink lots.

Of several different things.

Some for 12 hours or more.

Lots of people turned up and everyone seemed to have a good time.

Today has been somewhat quieter...

Help us to help you...

I posted back in March about a credit card company who appeared to prize themselves on lousy service and I can confirm without fear of contradiction that four months down the line they're showing no sign of improvement.

I've long given up on their internet banking service as it appears to be so secure that nobody on earth has a chance of accessing any information - possibly even their employees.

Having recently realised they're one of the few organisations I still pay the old fashioned way, I thought I'd throw caution to the wind and call them to set up a direct debit.

"Can I take your sixteen digit card number please?"
"And your name"
"And your postcode"
"And your memorable word"
"And your date of birth"
"And the first line of your address"
"Are you the primary cardholder on this account?"

By this time I was seriously hoping that it was Chris Tarrant putting on an Asian accent and was about to tell me my next question was worth 8000 quid.

In return for telling them my full address (in one entire answer this time) they promised to send out a direct debit mandate in the post some time over the next seven to ten days. When they received my completed mandate, they would then set up the direct debit sometime over the next six to eight weeks. Admittedly, I have an excellent payment record with them, but they did appear somewhat relaxed about setting up an automated payment facility.

Two weeks later (today), a letter arrived asking me to complete the attached mandate, including some parts marked "for office use only", then to return it in the enclosed pre-paid envelope, which wasn't enclosed. Yes, I know we're only talking about a 32p stamp and I should know better but I couldn't resist.

Back on the phone and after enough questions and answers to win another 4000 rupees, she has to go and ask someone whether she can send me a pre-paid envelope. After a while she re-appears to say she can't send the envelope without another mandate. I'm ashamed to say I was unable to stifle my laughter.

"OK we'll send those out to you. Can I help you with anything else"
"No thank you, you've been very [entertaining] helpful goodb..."
"It's just I can see that you qualify for..."
"Sorry, I'm going to have to interrupt you there. I'm not prepared to listen to your sales pitch for your wonderful offers when I'm paying national rate for the call. Thanks again. Goodbye."

If they want to tell me all about their wonderful products they can ring me. At least that way I can moan about invasion of privacy and tell them to sod off for free...

Lunch with a difference...

Before the meeting I had scheduled this afternoon, I took a stroll through the French quarter of New Orleans and after a brief wait in the subway, went on to find a seat on the deck of an ocean liner where I enjoyed my lunch.

Has Seany finally gone mad? Does he really believe the company will re-imburse such extravagant expenses? Surely not.

Worry not my dear readers, my meeting was in Manchester, not too far from the Trafford Park Shopping Centre. I'm still by no means a shopping fan but these would seem pleasant surroundings should the need be absolutely necessary. They have a small "street" fashioned in the design of the French Quarter of New Orleans leading to the main eating area which is in the shape of an ocean liner deck surrounded by a great selection of restaurants, bars and fast food counters. Including a Subway, one of the excellent sandwich bars.

Fine opportunity for a foot long "Subway Club" washed down with a cuppa and a chance to watch the world go by for half an hour...

More fun with food...

I've resisted the temptation to make another batch of crumpets this afternoon because as much as I really like them, they're a bit convenient to have lying around and they don't exactly encourage a healthy eating regime - well not by the time I've drowned them in butter & marmite.

This weekend's inspiration for kitchen tomfoolery came from Delcatto's post today which in turn was inspired by another superb barbie that John & Faith laid on for a few of us last night. He asks us about our favourite sausages which reminded me of some delicious lamb & rosemary sausages I had a few years ago.

My first thought was "must look out for some next time I'm food shopping" shortly followed by "I've already got lamb in the freezer & rosemary in the cupboard - how difficult can it be?"

My kitchen gadgets and food supplies, despite becoming increasingly diverse, don't yet run to fresh intestine or artificial casings let alone a sausage machine but I thought it would be fun to improvise.

So I whizzed together some lamb, rosemary, bread, garlic, salt, pepper and a drizzle of olive oil, wrapped & shaped it in clingfilm then left them in the fridge for 90 minutes to set.

The result? Well I had lamb & rosemary sausages, minted mash, peas & gravy for dinner and was too busy enjoying it to take a decent photo...

What rotten luck...

Someone who I'll not name (but you could possibly guess) recently told me a fine bad luck story that quite honestly, I can no longer resist the temptation of sharing.

I'm led to believe that one of the tipples of choice in Canada is Keith's which is brewed locally (to them) in Halifax, Nova Scotia.



As a popular beer, it is backed up with a popular advertising campaign, pulling strongly on it's Scottish roots and seldom passing up the chance to cash in on a good stereotype with a kilted, heavily accented character, raving about the beer being "the pride of Nova Scotia". If my understanding is correct, this character's popularity would rank equally with our Captain Birdseye.

Imagine the delight then when this friend of mine won an all expenses paid trip, flying out to Halifax, put up in a good hotel, a trip round the brewery and a chance to meet the famous "Scot" in person. As anybody would, he went to town buying tee shirts, getting autographs and having his photo taken with the character, keen to get back to his local and show off his wares to the regulars.

Then the actor who played the part of the Scot unexpectedly gets arrested on child porn charges...

An apple a day...

You have to hand it to the Irish, they certainly know a thing or two when it comes to alcoholic beverages. Aside from stereotypical consumption of them, they are also responsible for creating some of the best out there.

Obviously, there's the black stuff.



Out there on it's own as a unique beer with a worldwide reputation for a good pint. I've never made a secret of the fact that I'm quite partial to a pint or two.

Then of course there's the whiskey.



I'm not about to be drawn into whether Irish is better than Scotch, whether whiskey is better than whisky, or who actually invented it first. Quite frankly, I don't care, I've tried lots of both and whatever your preference, the Irish are clearly very good at it.

Then last night, I sucumbed to the recent advertising and on a warm summer evening in need of a cool refreshing drink I tried the Magners Irish Cider.



It was so good, I had to try quite a few more and yet here I am at 6:30 Saturday morning, wide awake and with a clear head. I wonder if I can count these towards my five portions of fruit per day?

I can't believe this is all down to the luck of the Irish. Is there no end to their alcohol creating talent? I sincerely hope not...

The End of the Road...

Keep right on to the end of the road
Keep right on to the end
Though the way be long, let your heart be strong,
Keep right on round the bend
Though you're tired and weary, still journey on
'Till you come to your happy abode
Where all you love and you're dreaming of
Will be there at the end of the road

Today marks the anniversary of a very sad day in the history of Seany. I have eluded to this story very briefly before, but I feel today is a fitting day for the full version. It was on this day, 22 years ago (gulp) that I faced a journey to Milton Keynes Bowl to watch my rock heroes perform live on stage for the very last time.

We had always planned to see them again after enjoying their show so much a couple of years earlier, but when Status Quo announced that although they wanted to carry on recording, this would be their last ever tour, we were understandably mortified. It was indeed time for drastic action and we decided to get ourselves to as many dates on the tour as was possible given available funds at the time (which strangely enough don't seem to have changed much in 22 years despite my salary being significantly different).

Obviously, the entire tour was considerably bigger, but we made it to the following dates:
Tuesday 5th June - De Montfort, Leicester
Tuesday 19th June - Bridlington Spa
Wednesday 20th June - Bridlington Spa (yes, the next night!)
Saturday 14th July - Selhurst Park (Farewell London Concert)
Saturday 21st July - Milton Keynes Bowl (Farewell C0ncert)

As part of the souvenir campaign I kept my tickets and picked up the tour programme, at least 5 t-shirts and a tour jacket; all of which I still have today and are for the best part in excellent condition. Maybe worth something one day I suppose.

We'd seen some interesting support acts along the way too:
Chas n Dave - real good fun & know how to get a crowd singing
Little Steven & The Disciples of Soul - hmmm...
Phil Lynot's Grand Slam - very good but I wish I'd seen Thin Lizzy
Dave Edmunds - another hero ticked on my "must see" list
Jason & the Scorchers - hmmm...
Nazareth - great live band
Gary Glitter - superb entertainer, despicable individual
Marillion - to my mind at their best with Fish (and I've seen both)

The farewell concert itself sticks in my mind as if it were yesterday. The air heavy with emotion and anticipation, not to mention the smell of denim, leather, sweat, beer & juana marrows. The background music stopped (always heavy metal for some reason) and we heard the now familiar pom-pom-pom-pom intro to the End of the Road song. Then the bright blue spotlight appeared to the left of the stage, in steps Rick Parfitt and away he goes, hammering out the opening chords to Caroline. Everyone goes crazy and quite rightly - cue one of the best rock sets of all time. In the later numbers we realised that the enormous speaker stacks and the stage were surrounded by lights spelling out the letters Q-U-O. Obligatory fireworks to finish and quite frankly, it's no surprise the video went on to be the fastest selling music video - everyone wanted to keep a bit of that forever.



Excellent concert indeed.
Of course, I've seen them perform live half a dozen times since...

Good day...

Today was a good day. There you go, I said it. Well, typed it.

~ Pleasant journey to & from the office
~ Lovely weather (even in Scunthorpe)
~ I deposited a nice cheque in the bank courtesy of my last employer
~ We had a productive managers meeting
~ I've been offered a genuinely exciting new challenge at work
~ Best of all, I found this joke amongst my archives that gave me a good laugh. Hope you don't mind my sharing, but they do say the old ones are the best

So this guy goes into the blacksmiths looking for a job.
The blacksmith says "Have you any experience in shoeing horses?"
"No", he replied, "but I did tell a donkey to fuck off once"...

In the balance...

You can't escape it; well I certainly can't. Every way I turn the delicate balance of life comes into play.



Describe it as you will. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Every cloud has a silver lining. A great night out is invariably followed by a less than great waking up (although the milk thistle helps). I can handle a good few beers compared to many, but that means carrying around this less than lightweight frame. My car is a decent one (although certainly nothing flash), but I pay the price of having little scrotes vandalise it from time to time. Like most people, I like to complain about a bad day at work but I get a reasonable salary in return.

I suppose the point I'm trying to get to, is that having managed to find myself a lovely bungalow on the outskirts of town which is only a block away from miles of open fields, I shouldn't be at all surprised to walk out into the garden on one of the hottest evenings of the year to be met with the delightful aroma of animal shit.

And yes, it was coming from outside...

Well if you must know...

There have been a few enquiries of late regarding the fate of the carrot tops I so caringly nurtured into plants at the beginning of the year.

So today is unveiling day. You can probably gather that the results were a little different than I expected as there isn't a full colour photo on display within the text here. That said, the greenery had achieved the respectable height of 16 inches so I believe it was reasonable of me to expect the resultant vegetable to be of decent proportions rather than these rather sad looking specimens.

Stopped laughing yet? Me too, just. So what have we learnt from this exercise? Well clearly you can grow carrots from carrot tops and if you're lucky, you may even get three carrots from one top. I can also confirm that they taste as good as any other carrots I've tasted too.

Overall, I think the biggest lesson to be learnt is that it's hardly worth waiting seven months when at 64p a kilo it's easier to nip out to Tesco...

A little of what you fancy...

Last night was one of those excellent impromptu occasions.

Arrived home from work early and as I had to get into town to get my specs fixed, it seemed like as good an excuse as any to pop into the Tap for a beer and have a bite of tea with Mum.

Started fairly quiet and shortly after our meal we even discussed calling it a night as nobody seemed to be out. Then they came, from all directions, loads of the regulars who I'd not seen for quite some time. It turned out to be an excellent night out with much catching up done with the obligatory swilling of ale.

Just before mid-day, I'm now unsurprisingly asking myself who'll be in there this afternoon. Only one way to find out I suppose - so as Delcatto would say, TTFN...

And on that note...

For some inexplicable reason this morning I arose at the crack of dawn and had an irresistable urge to have a good thrash. Not that you filthy minded individuals, I mean I unpacked this for the first time since I moved house:



I must have spent a good hour playing around loads of old favourite riffs and quite honestly I'd forgotten how much fun it is. Especially with the assistance of this:



I suppose whilst I'm showing off my musical wares, I also ought to include my much loved (yet recently neglected) acoustic



In fact, if you know where to look, there is a rare photo on here somewhere of me on stage singing and playing that one.

Back to this morning, in the interest of keeping the neighbours happy, the outputs were restricted to my headphones. I've said before how I don't particularly like playing in front of an audience so playing straight to the headphones suits me just fine.

OK, I know it's good to share, but I've shared the story with you all haven't I...

Glad that's over...

Alan Titchmarsh I ain't.

I got home from work this evening and without pausing to think, got changed into scruffs and spent an hour mowing the front & back lawns and clearing weeds from the paths, drive & patio.

You have to know me in the other (non-blog) world to comprehend my utter contempt for all things gardening and usually it would fall lower on my "things I enjoy" list than a saline eyewash, but there I was. And so far, that's been the highlight of my day.

Gives you some appreciation of the sort of day it's been...

Teatime...

What better way of unwinding afer a day at work than a decent cuppa, half a pound of butter,a giant jar of Marmite and a box of 12 fresh crumpets?

OK, perhaps I didn't but I can't say it didn't cross my mind...

Quite an evening...

A couple of months ago I posted about a crowd blocking the road who wouldn't let me get past in the car and my dilemma as to the most appropriate way to proceed. Well, I keep hearing one of them in the neighbourhood and I've suspected since that he has been watching the house.

Thankfully, I've finally managed to get a picture of him in action and I'm prepared to use it as evidence if it gets that far. You can can see the picture here - let me know if you think you recognise him. Click here to read the original post.


Onto more serious (?!) matters, I've had a lovely bit of crumpet tonight. "About time too Seany" I hear the cries, but they would be wrong; I'm not on the brink of relinquishing my much treasured singledom.

In my humble opinion, one of the best morning goods available is the crumpet, or pikelet, or whatever you want to call it, but either way, they look like this:



What makes these particularly special to me is that I made them myself this evening, with no help from the magic white box I hasten to add. To my absolute amazement they look (and taste) like real ones although you haven't seen the experimental forerunners that didn't quite make it to the photo shoot...

Recommended reading...

Yes I know it's the World Cup and Wimbledon Finals today but I'm staying true to my heartfelt indifference to either. Having frittered half of the day away asleep, I have few plans for anything that requires much more effort for the rest of the day.

On my cyber travels a little earlier I stumbled across The Straight Dope; a collection of answers to all of those questions you really wanted to know but were afraid to ask (out loud at least) and a great source for shattering urban myths. Just follow the link above or on the left and you too can discover:

How they get non-stick Teflon to stick to the pan
The origin of the F-word
What blind people dream of
Whether fanning yourself is energy efficient
What "corned" beef is (although I'd already covered that one here)

In addition, I found it really funny to read some of the utter rubbish that some people had been told and felt the need to verify in the interest of getting back to sleep at night.

Nobody has asked when sliced bread became the best thing though - looks like I beat them to that one...

What if...

At the tender age of 20, I was faced with my first redundancy. What horror - I thought that was a fate reserved for old men and yet, here I was just starting out on my career in retail management, called into the office on my way home one Friday evening and handed the fateful letter. It wasn't even signed, just full of "blah, blah, centralisation", "blah, blah, regret to inform you", "blah, blah, thanks for everything, now sod off and find something else to do". Oh, and did I mention that it was just before Christmas? Although understandably peeved at the time, it was to prove the turning point in my career and set me off on the road which eventually led to where I am today (not far, some would say).

My first office job was at a local printing firm where I have to admit, my chances were probably helped by the fact that the M.D. was my Godfather. Initially I took the job of receptionist as a "filler" until something better came along but my Office Manager there was probably a greater inspiration to me at the time than I've ever made known to him. Not too occupied (or interested) in reception duties, I soon busied myself learning how to look after the accounts, prepare quotes & costings, develop my Sales and Customer Service skills; all the time generally learning the other tools (chores) of the admin trade.

Before long, I still had time on my hands (as did my Manager) and as a result, we would fill this time playing "what if?". I'm not talking about some childish imaginary game; more of "I wonder how we could make the month end routines less of a chore? What if...?" A train of thought that resulted in us writing a program to link the various routines together and save hours of work. Which left more time to think "What if...?"

I've carried on that theme ever since, both in and outside of work. Not that there's ever been the same amount of spare time since, but whenever the time has been available, I would adopt the same principle to find my way around Microsoft Office or understanding html code or even servicing and repairs around the house. I'm often asked "Where did you learn this stuff?" and the answer is simple, I taught myself through the trial and error process of the "What if..." game.

Give it a go - what have you got to lose*? Just remember to backup the existing copy or makes notes & drawings of whatever you're working on first! Something else I learned (the hard way) by playing the game...


* Disclaimer: this suggestion implies use of a modicum of common sense, e.g. "What if I washed my hair with battery acid instead of shampoo?" is a silly notion and this blogger accepts no responsibility for such actions.**

** I know I shouldn't have to say this but you never know...

The best thing since...

By complete chance this morning, I think I've stumbled across the answer to one of life's great questions. Well, maybe just something I've sometimes thought about.

The breadmaker I bought a few months ago is still regularly churning out top quality loaves, but I find that it freezes better when sliced. Not too great a task with the aid an electric carving knife but I thought I'd have a look around to see how much a proper bread slicer would cost. Added to which, the ability to create slices of consistent width may prevent me from "accidentally" leaving ultra thick crusts to snack on.

During my wanderings through Google I learnt that The Chillicothe Baking Company in Missouri unveiled a new machine that sliced bread on 7th July 1928.

Still I don't suppose the phrase "best thing in the last 78 years as of yesterday" will catch on to the same extent. Especially as you won't be able to use it again after today...

All creatures great and small...

I've tried my best to enjoy an evening at home tonight. The pub's kitchen was closed today following some damage from last night's storms so instead of going out for tea I did the next best thing and rang out to a newly discovered pizza company. Very nice too.

It's not been much fun at work this week so I thought tea could be accompanied by the remains of a bottle of white wine from the fridge but first taste indicated it had long since passed it's best. Found a half full (half empty?) box of red wine in the cupboard - unfortunately not even fit for serving over chips. Undeterred, I enjoyed my pizza in the company of Mr Daniels (no, not the vertically challenged magician).

Lots of throwing out z's in the general direction of Big Brother on the TV and trying to resolve a couple of blog issues for Cherrypie, it would have been a pleasant evening were it not for these critters



I don't like killing the things so I try where possible to deal with them humanely (or cranefly-ely) but by the time I'd got rid of about the 5th one within half an hour, the novelty of leaping about with a glass tumbler and a postcard was starting to wear thin. It's too dark to leave the lights off and too hot to close the windows and I've a nice collection of suitable aerosols in the kitchen cupboard on standby.

I guess if nothing else, I'm clocking up a few karma points in the meantime. My name is Seany...

Watch your step...

There's been much publicity recently around continued efforts to protect our environment and I grew curious to find out exactly what my carbon footprint was (other than a dirty great black size 10).



I'm clear on what it means, but now thanks to the BP Carbon Footprint Calculator, you can measure your own. Mine works out at approx. 7 tonnes of CO2 per year, which I'm pleased to say is less than the UK average of 9.85.

And that's not counting the CO2 of wasted breath I spout at work five days a week...

You learn something new every day...

Tonight I learnt that it is a seven minute walk from home to my nearest pub and amazingly, it's taken me over seven months to discover this fact.

An old school mate of mine (who also happens to be the Service Manager where my car has gone for an MOT tonight) offered me a lift home and the least I could do was treat him to a couple of pints for his trouble.

So, it's seven minutes away, has a nice friendly teatime atmosphere and they have three "real" ales on. At four and a half quid for a pint of lager (not mine,obviously) and a pint something that claimed to be Taylors Landlord it was a case of right place at the right time but I'm far from sold yet. I'm sure the other two "ales" (nothing memorable, probably Tetley & London Pride) would have tasted just as innocuous, but given that I have to be up early tomorrow to get a lift into work, I didn't dare chance getting a taste for any of it.

So, the old Tap may still be a modest bus trip/taxi ride away, but on tonight's evidence it's still worth the journey...

Light headed...

Strange thing happened to me on the way to... well, on the way to the bathroom actually.

I got up to attend to a call of nature and recognising that it was dark (smart bloke, me) instinctively reached my left hand out behind me to turn on the light switch outside the bathroom door. Except that there isn't one there. In fact, there wasn't one in the last place I lived either. (Incidentally, that one was activated by a PIR sensor which was pretty cool but that's a story for another day). The light switch I was subconsciously searching for actually belonged to the house I sold over four years ago. How odd.

So with room adequately lit, I did what I had to do (sorry folks - find your own links, I'm not into that kind of entertainment thanks) then went to flush the loo and with instinct on fine form, reached out to grab the lightswitch pull cord. It must be over 25 years since I lived anywhere where you had to pull a chain to flush the loo. What was I thinking of?

Before you ask, my body was completely free of alcohol or any other mind-altering substances for that matter. Maybe it's some kind of reverse deja visite phenomenon where I knew where I was but it felt like somewhere else that I actually had been to before.

I have absolutely no idea what was going through my mind. For that matter, I have to ask myself what on earth was going through my mind when I thought this might be a story worth sharing...

Well it sounded good...

I can say with a higher than average degree of confidence that you will never hear the comment "Hey, did you see that excellent recipe on Seany's cookery programme last night?" But, being a bloke, a lazy one at that, and one with not much time to faff about in the kitchen of an evening, I still like to make an effort now and then.

Tonight, I got in a little earlier than usual and attempted to rustle up something quick, tasty and reasonably healthy for supper tonight which resulted in a mini treasure hunt through the freezer and cupboards.

"Aubergine? Yeah that's been there a few days, I'll slice that up, season it, drizzle with olive oil and shove it under the grill."

Search continues.

"Chicken breast - that'll do. Season and shove that under the grill as well. Saves on washing up (or filling dishwasher too early in week)"

Bit dry though. Search goes on.

"Tarragon! I'd forgotten I'd got that. OK then, white sauce, shove some tarragon in last minute to liven up the flavour, pour over the lot and job's a good 'un"

The result? Looked delicious. The smell was fantastic. The taste was aboslutely... erm... alright I suppose. Have to work on that one I guess. I hate it when that happens...

Now for some good news...

With any hopes of any English sports people achieving anything of note fading way into the distance, it would have been a great opportunity for someone to come up with some good news for a change. Thanks then to Steve and Mel who returned from their trip to London and announced that they will be getting married next August!



He is indeed a lucky chap as Mel is a very attractive, friendly, genuinely lovely girl and Steve is, well... Steve. Only kidding mate! (he types, in the hope that you've finally re-discovered the blog again!). Joking aside, I genuinely wish you both the very best and look forward to celebrating with you both next year.

"Hi, can I book a taxi please? Where to? Toronto"...