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All photographs are accurate. None of them is the truth.

- Richard Avedon


Is it mid June already? does that mean the cold spring rains are behind us and we can look forward to the warmer summer rain to come? I mean, joking aside WTF?! I've lived in England all my life, and have got used to the perception of Johnny Foreigner that its a wet miserable place where everyone wears galoshes and carries an umbrella, but until this year I thought they were mistaken. 


It was pretty ironic really , in a terribly British sort of way, how the water companies all lined up behind each other in March and admitted that despite supplying water to one of the wettest countries in Europe, their systems were so F**d up that they had actually run out. All the southern ones immediately declared a hosepipe ban, and many hands were wrung at the thought that Britain was turning into the Sahara.

Then it started raining. It rained for the whole of April. It stair rodded it down throughout May, and it's been pissing it down all through June. This has undoubtedly been the wettest drought on record.

Storm clouds gathered, and refused to F*** Off

The lawn is looking a bit damp

There is a bright side though, the garden looks lovely. Particularly round the pond. The bog garden is doing very well, so well in fact that it's spread halfway down the lawn and threatens to enter the house. The roses are taking a right battering. But at least the 85 tomato plants and 70 odd chillies that I decided to grow this year are surviving. Mostly because the bulk of them are indoors.


Some of the chillies

At least the pond Irises are happy

So all in all it hasn't been the greatest spring to benefit from the solar panels we installed at Christmas. Not that it in fact would have mattered, because the daft wazzack that installed them put the meter on backwards and we haven't actually been using any power from them at all. It's fixed now so if the sun ever does come out the £13 grand install  might actually save us the cost of a lightbulb or two. I figure at this  rate, payback on the investment should be around 2198, so maybe the great grandkids will be happy.

Anyway, enough grumbles, I've just discovered Instagram! Cool is it or what!? Actually I didn't so much 'discover' it, as grudgingly find myself having to find out just what Facebook spent $1bn dollars to buy? Oh yes Facebook, c'mon own up, who bought those shares? Of course you didn't , because your'e not that F***ing gullible are you. At $38 per share Facebook was valued at $105bn, yes One Hundred and Five BILLION dollars. That's quite a lot. Its more in fact than Ford, or Sony, or Porsche, PUT TOGETHER! for a company that doesn't actually sell anything? No surprise then that they have er, slipped a little, down to around $25 at their lowest. What is surprising is that they have recovered back up to over $30 dollars again, despite being sued by the new shareholders for not telling the truth about their advertising revenues. You couldn't make it up. And if you did no-one would believe you.

But back to instagram, FB paid $1bn for this little company, it was 3 years old, had one product, about 5 staff, and one of them had only been there a month. The founder got $400m, not bad for three years work. The new kid got about $10m, and he only made the tea! But what does instagram actually do?

Well it lets you take pictures with your iPhone and er, share them, like Flickr, or funnily enough Facebook, or Twitter. In fact it integrates with Twitter, and Flickr, and Facebook, and Tumblr (who he?) and a couple of others. So that's pretty revolutionary isn't it? er, No it isn't, but what IS revolutionary is that before sharing your pix you can F**k with them! Yes you can apply 'Filters' which  change the colours, and the contrast and make them look, completely rubbish.

There are about 18 'filters' with names like 'Amaro', or 'Hudson'. But they should really just have names like 'bad', 'awful', or 'crap'. There are also some focussing tools, which let you ruin the focus even more than the iPhone did for you automatically. Oh and you can have a white or black frame on your pic. And that's it.  I mean Mark Zuckerberg might be a social networking guru, and a very rich munchkin, but paying $1bn for an app that just F***s up your photo's is not really a sign of genius.

Here's what I mean. This pic taken of Walter (looking grumpy because I just stuck my iPhone up his nose) isn't great, but at least he looks like himself:

Through the miracle of instagram he can look like this:

Bleurgh!

Heres another, a rose, straight off the iPhone, not great, but not terrible either:

But waive instagram's magic wand and Blam! Completely trashed:

So that's it, and the kids love it! I guess the point is that they can all blame instagram for why their pix all look like shit, instead of admitting that maybe they just took a bad photo? Or maybe I'm just missing the point and these instagram pix are in fact wonderful art? It could be that. Maybe I should re-think.

OK, Change of heart, instagram is GREAT! worth every penny (its a free download), and henceforth I am going to use it, every day. No really I am. I'm linking my instagram account to my twitter feed (see how down with the kids I am?) and I'm going to tweet AxsMan's #roseoftheday pic, every day. See what I did there? I used a #hashtag. Maybe I'll go viral!

Here's the very first  #roseoftheday. Remember where you were when you first saw it.

One day it might be worth something ;-)


Nurse - more meds please.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow....

One kind word (and a large bottle of brandy) can warm three winter months.  
~Japanese Proverb (amended).


So winter has finally reached Leicester, a couple of days of hard frost then some of the white stuff.  A photo blog is called for methinks.


It shure do make the garden look purty!

The Kitts have discovered the many pleasures that winter has to offer.

A brisk walk on a crisp morning

A spot of ice skating while looking for lunch

A few minute's birdwatching in the frozen woods

Followed by a nice warm mug of er, milk?

Toby likes the snow, particularly when he can turn it yellow

Winnie and Hat are not so sure

In fact Hattie has had quite enough of that feeling of  'icy butt cheeks'

And eventually even Walt needs a nice warm cuddle from 'dad'.

That's all Folks! 

(for today :-) )



Edit: - Got these this morning so had to add them :-)


Winnie is definitely getting bigger

What a pretty face! (and Winnie is quite cute too!) :-)

We had a game of da bird in the snow


Hattie can jump!

So can Winnie

Walt was feeling lazy

Hattie took advantage of the furniture to get closer

Winnie gave it a try too

and finally gave it one last jump

OK that really is all this time, until next time!

RIP my Father

May you live as long as you wish and love as long as you live.
- The Master


I thought long and hard before posting this.

I decided that if posting on here meant ANYTHING at all, it is an appropriate public place to write a few words marking the passing of my father.

On November 17th this year he fell awkwardly in his lounge and broke his hip.

Following his discharge from hospital on Nov 23rd, he and my mum came to stay with us because an 89 year old motorist had that day crashed into the front wall of their house rendering it uninhabitable. No, I didn't believe it at the time either.

My dad had been losing weight for over a year and never weighed much to begin with. We didn't realise it at the time but this condition was more serious than we thought. Although he actually healed quite well from surgery, and was able to walk with the aid of a 'zimmer' frame, he was not eating enough and became weaker by the day. Our local GP attended twice and took blood samples. They did not reveal anything sinister although, a lifelong smoker, he had previously undiagnosed COPD.

He developed a chest infection and was prescribed antibiotics which did appear to be having a positive effect.

Then, after a good day last Friday where he was lucid, chatty even, and appeared to be on the mend, he died in the early hours of Saturday morning.

Below is the eulogy that I will be reading at his funeral next Tuesday, to a small group of family and friends. 

My dad was not a religious man. He was not a Christian, and in fact considered himself an Atheist. He and I debated his view a few times, because as a fan of Terry Pratchett's work I felt he should see himself not as Atheist, knowing for certain there is no God, but as Agnostic, claiming no specific certainty or faith.

But he would have none of it. Quietly and politely as was his way, he insisted that for him, there was just life, and eventually, for everyone, death was the end. 

He was nonetheless a very moral man. His integrity was very important to him. I remember in his early days as an Architect he would receive 'Christmas presents' of the odd bottle of scotch from building contractors. He accepted them, in those days he didn't have much money for luxuries, but it always made him uneasy. He didn't want to feel 'beholden' to anyone. 

For the same reason he was not one to ask for help or favours, or the loan of something. He would do it himself, buy it himself, or do without. Even just two months ago he was still clearing garden waste by himself, only accepting a bit of help because I had a trailer large enough to take the bigger items. I'm sure if his car had been bigger he'd have done it all on his own. Right up to the end he mowed his own lawn, washed his own car, kept the house maintained, balanced his chequebook, and took a pride in his independence. 


He was also a very kind man. Not one for 'the community', or 'good works' he would nonetheless give help to anyone who asked for it. In my youth he kept my moped running as well as that of my best mate. Even at 5.00 in the morning he'd get up to strip down a clogged carb prior to one of our fishing trips. He gave his time freely and happily to the Red Cross annual camp, putting up tents, and organising the cook out. Hot dogs were a particular speciality. 
  
He was too a creative man. Architect by trade, I always felt he was more Artist and Artisan by persuasion. He loved to MAKE things. His house is full of little wooden 'adaptations', a grab rail, a hinged table top, a conservatory! If he needed a TV stand or a coffee table he'd go out to his shed and BUILD one. Not because he had to, but because he could. And the things he made were always perfect. Just the right size for the task, and finished so well they instantly became part of the background, like him, quietly and unobtrusively doing their job. 

Material things were not important to him. He didn't own a lot of stuff. An air rifle and penknife were his only 'toys'. He wore no jewelry. When he retired from the building trade they bought him an expensive Omega watch. He never wore it. Preferring the simple inexpensive watch bought for him by my mum one holiday. He was not, as they say 'flash'. I remember after he got a second speeding ticket in his big old Ford Granada, he swapped it for a little Fiat, so that he could better feel how fast he was going. Appearances mattered little to him.

Dad had a wonderful sense of humour. His was a fan of the late Eric Morecambe, who's annual Christmas show was a highlight in its day. I think the sketch in a train where Ernie, speaking of his country home, tells Eric he has 'a couple of acres' and Eric replies "Yes these seats are a bit hard" sums up best what made him laugh.

He also liked dressing up, and was very good at it. As our kids grew up we had many 'themed' fancy dress parties and Dad always took the prize for the best getup. His ‘Starveling the Tailor' was particularly memorable, although his silver faced Zombie Lord, and ‘Big Cat Hunter’ complete with air pistol were up there with the best. 

Above all dad was a loving man. As children, my sister and I took for granted that he loved us, why wouldn't we? He introduced me to the joys of fishing and model aircraft, and with Jane he shared his love of music. 


As we grew up we both realised just how much his family meant to him. He loved to see us all, was always interested in what we were doing, always impressed by our achievements however small. He embraced our partners Paula and Lesley, and when our children came along he loved them too. He was always pleased to see Laura, Alice, Sally and Adam, always happy to talk to them, often over a 'fag break', about their lives and interests. With a smile and a pat on the shoulder he always made us all feel cared for and loved. 


But his real love, the one person in the world with whom he fully shared himself and whose happiness meant more to him than his own, was of course, his wife, our mother, Sheila. From the age of 17 they were together. To say he loved her is not enough, she completed him. Married for 60 years separated only briefly by his period of National service, their story is one of a lifelong romance. Dad loved his family and enjoyed his friendships but, quiet and self sufficient as he was, the only person he ever truly needed was Mum. She meant everything to him, he trusted and relied on her just as she trusted and relied on him. His dearest wish, to the end was never to be separated from her.

He died holding her hand.

Has it really been a Month......?

....since my last Blog? Doesn't time just fly

Well I've been a bit 'occupied' for the last few weeks, so a catch up blog is definitely required.

Back in October, I started to get the itch. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and it's not easily communicable, but every once in a while it needs scratching. The time had come to change the car.

Now our main 'workhorse' car is a comfortable though fundamentally boring Mondeo, but a few years ago I promised myself that before I died I would enjoy the delights of at least a couple of more 'exotic' rides even if only for a year or two (calm down ladies I'm still talking about cars).

I used to ride a bike, this one in fact:

and after that it takes a certain kind of car to generate the same 'excitement', so I decided to get one of these (this one in fact):

Its a Maserati 4200 GT and to say it was quite quick is like saying ZZ Top are quite hairy.

Handles like a dream and tops out at 170+ if you dare. It was a really fun car to drive, to polish and just to stare at, but it did have one drawback. It's a manual. For our American friends a 'stick shift'. Not only that but the gearbox was built out of bricks and the clutch springs were stronger than the suspension. Putting it simply it was hard work - rewarding when you got it right, punishing when you didn't. So after 2 1/2 years of hairy chested, latin machismo, I decided something more refined was called for. My left arm was getting tired, my clutch foot was starting to ache, and my spine was gradually crumbling from the punishingly hard ride.

So I got one of these (this one in fact) :-)

Its a Jaguar. In the US this is often incorrectly pronounced 'JagYooArr', in the UK it's simply pronounced 'Jaaaaaag', which rhymes with Shag, but lasts longer.

It's a supercharged V8 with quite a bit more 'oomph' than the Mas (510 Oomphs to be precise), and it goes like the beast it is. But its also refined. It is comfortable. It is an automatic (but with flappy paddle gearshift if you want to play).

I can't say in writing how fast I have been in it because I would be open to arrest and a good beating with a policeman's truncheon, but I can confirm that at over twice the national speed limit it is still accelerating ;-)

But it is also 'green'. No really. The engine is so efficient that despite its huge power output it still does 50% more miles to the gallon than the Mas did. OK 13 mpg round town isn't green by some standards but its a lot better than 8!

So that's my new ride. She sounds gorgeous too :-)

Blackberry and Apple Grumble

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
- Arthur C. Clarke


Until it goes wrong - then it's indistinguishable from anything else that's completely fubar. in fact I think a second quote might be better here,

To err is human, but to really foul things up you need a computer.
Paul R. Ehrlich


So what a week that was. First, we lose Steve Jobs, then Dennis Ritchie, then Blackberry 'crumble', and finally Apple launch iOS 5 and the iPhone 4s.


On hearing of his death, I didn't immediately remember who Dennis Ritchie was, or where I'd heard of him, but the guy who gave us Unix and C has left us a greater, if less obvious legacy than that left by the founder of Apple. Ritchie might not have had a rock star profile among the the general public, but to millions of  sandal wearing beardie programmers he was barely one step down from God. 

Ironically, the new Apple iOS 5 , and its arch rival Android, are all built upon UNIX foundations so Ritchie's genius is carried today in the pocket of just about everyone in the civilised world. Well everyone with an iPhone or Android smartphone that is. Of course some damfools carry Blackberrys.

Someone on the Daily Mash said that Blackberry users think they are important, iPhone users think iPhones are important, and android users are just poor and unimportant. Dunno if that's true, but apart from having to send a couple of emails for my daughter whose Blackberry was down, I was left undisturbed by the global cataclysm resulting from Research in Motion's router crash.


A lot of folks got very steamed up about it though. Apparently RIM didn't keep everyone informed well enough about what had gone wrong and when it would be fixed. Some poor souls had to endure TWO WHOLE DAYS without instant messaging or Facebook access! You wonder how they coped and if they now need counselling?


The Apple iOS 5 launch, was also not glitch free.

I'm a big fan of all things Apple. I've had iPhones since the first one, and these days have just about completed the transition from PC to Mac. The move has been stimulating and not without the odd moment of pain. Some things Apple work superbly well, some things suck the big one. Aperture's integration with Flickr is in the latter category and has cost me hours of my life that I'll never get back. 


So it was with a mix of anticipation and trepidation that I approached the iOS upgrade. For starters it was not an entirely trivial task. With a MacBook, iMac, iPhone 4 and iPad (1) to upgrade it was kinda tough to know where to start. In the end I did the Macbook first, which involved updating the Lion OS that I'd only recently installed, and upgrading to the latest iTunes. Fortunately I chose NOT to do this on the day of launch, because 100 million geeks and fanbois the world over were hammering Apples servers and wondering why it was taking so long to download. I waited until the day after!

I also did it first thing in the morning when America is asleep ;-)

It worked. That's it. no glitches, no lost data, and after about two hours I had all 4 devices updated and was enjoying the delights of the iCloud, er, except that there's really not that much to enjoy.

As a Mobile Me user I already had 20Gb of cloud storage, so another 5gb 'for free' wasn't too exciting. Oh and the document integration seems to only work with Apple's own iWork suite not MS Office. Mail and Calendar are no different from their Mobile Me predecessors, Contacts sharing is similarly ho hum, which leaves us with Photostream.

What a great idea, I take a pic on my iPhone and instantly (well about 15 seconds later) it appears on my iPad, MacBook and iMac! Fantastic. Except it was a picture of my thumb, so I took four more till I got the shot I wanted. but now all 5 are in my photostream and guess what - there's no 'delete' function. EVERY photo I take goes up to the cloud and ripples down to my iDevices, and stays there for 30 days. OK I can 'reset' my photostream and delete the lot, but I can't just delete the odd mistake. And you know those pix I was taking to see how big that spot on my right buttock was growing? oops!

I suspect a few celebs might suffer the odd embarrassing moment courtesy of this particular piece of folly. Isn't that right Scarlett? Yes I do mean you. OK it's only a 'beta' but deleting your own unwanted pix should have been a release one piece of functionality.

At least Apple have improved the 'find my iPhone' facility. Now I can 'find my Mac' too. Which is great because if I ever misplace my iMac, all 45lbs of it, and I can't easily see the 27" screen sticking out from under the sofa cushion then I'll be able to 'find it' on line - Brilliant! (actually this only works with the MacBook, not the iMac, which does kind of make sense)

So overall the iOS 5 mega update was a bit of a damp squib. C'est la vie. On a brighter note my iPhone 4s arrived at the office today so tonight I get to play with Siri!

Open the pod doors please Hal.

RIP Steve Jobs

Death is the lot of all of us and the only way the human race has ever conquered death is by treating it with contempt. By living every golden minute as if one had all eternity.
- RAH, Guest of Honor Speech at the XIXth World Science Fiction Convention


I woke up today to the news that Steve Jobs had lost his battle with cancer. 


He was a true visionary, he changed the way humankind interacts with technology and each other. His passing is a great loss, to his family, his friends, to his company and to the world.


RIP Steve Jobs, and Thank you. Your legacy will go on, enriching our lives and liberating our creativity for decades to come.

Anyone lost a squirrel?

A squirrel is a rat with good PR
- Anon

Walt and Winnie, clearly fully recovered from their recent surgery, found a couple of squirrels today. When I say found, I mean they sat watching them for about half an hour before I wondered what was holding their interest. The squirrels were on the ground below the trees at the end of our garden. They looked pretty young.

Walt and Win couldn't decide what to do with them. The young squirrels didn't run around, just crawled slowly away, which probably saved their lives.

I thought I should intervene. So I fetched an empty Prosecco box - we seem to have a few in the garage :-) and put them in it.

We added a few nuts and bits of apple, and for some reason a conker, but the squirrels weren't interested.
So we gave them a drink of water, and left them to calm down away from the kittens for a while.

Then we tried to release them back into the wild.

They wouldn't go.

So I tried feeding them again and giving them a drink from a pipette, but that didn't go too well either.

At this point I noticed that they were literally covered in fleas. I mean covered. There must have been 500 fleas on each squirrel.

OK not about to make pets of them then. So I called Ghostbusters. Well not actually Ghostbusters, but rather the Leicestershire Wildlife Hospital Trust. These Folks.

"I have squirrels" I said. "Lucky you" they said. "They look young and scared" I said. "Are their eyes open?" They asked. "Yes" I said, "and they are covered in fleas". "Bring them in" they said. So after some confusion getting their address I put the Prosecco box in a bin liner, and put the whole package in the car.

Half an hour later I arrived at the rescue centre. I was met by a very nice, if slightly stern lady. 'I have squirrels?" I said, hopefully. She looked suspiciously at the plastic bag I was carrying. "I hope they can breath in there" she said, giving me a somewhat baleful look. "They have fleas" I explained, a bit weakly.

I opened up the bag and the box, hoping very sincerely that the squirrels hadn't suffocated. They hadn't.

"We'll put them in this carrier" said another lady, lifting the first squirrel out and gently putting it in a very comfy blanketed carrier box. "Oh, it's covered in fleas!" she exclaimed. "Yes" I said. "Oh we better keep it in your box until we've treated them" she said. "Good idea" I said. "Would you like a donation towards their upkeep?" This won them over.

We parted on the best of terms, with promises to keep me informed of the squirrels' progress. Apparently they would be wintered in the rescue centre and released next spring. Sounds like they got a good deal, The ladies were very kind.


I've been itching all day.