So ... That Was August

August has been a bitter sweet symphony of a month by no mistake. Gran was cremated last Friday, it was a nice ceremony that highlighted that despite her diminutive stature she was a strong woman, hard working and devoted to family. The only downside to the service was my grans involvement with religion was embellished by the vicar and described as a 'quiet faith' but it was so quiet I never heard her mention it ever. My grans famous catch phrase was 'Charity begins at home' and that was very much how she thought, family was paramount.

I don't often do the family thing but I must confess I did enjoy seeing some of my family after the service for a drink and a bite to eat and I shall try and make more of an effort to keep in touch with some of then in the future. I'll miss my gran, she was a good woman and very kind and loving towards me, she is an irreplaceable woman in my life.

Onto lighter things now! Gary came back early in the month for nearly two weeks, he didn't bring his usual sunshine days but on the days we did stuff I couldn't really complain. We headed to the coast one day to visit Bridlington, Hornsea and Spurn head. Bridlington seems to have lost its childhood magic for me and now is much like many other English seaside towns in the fact it has lost much of its former glory and appeal. It now feels like a run down town by the side of the sea with a very unremarkable harbour. There's tacky bars adorning the sea front and expensive children's rides and amusements. I won't be in a hurry to visit again, though we did find a very good retro shop that sold excellent t-shirts and memorabilia.

Hornsea was a small affair but quite nice if you have a family and want the benefits of a small quiet seaside resort which also has quite a quaint village tucked behind the more contemporary sea front area.

Spurn head was pretty amazing, £2 to get in with the car and lots of lots of quiet beach overlooked by what I think to be an unused light house. The whole place has a kind of majestic beauty of sorts, super long swathes of quiet beach stretching out on a delicate thin finger of land in the North sea. It was a memorable day and we drove over the Humber bridge home.

August has been a strange month for sure, highs and low emotionally, the graphics card on the computer blew up and a good friend moved over to Lincoln to live, and good luck to him. To be fair its not that far away and will probably open up new social avenues for him and his partner, and of course me if they invite me over!

Tv Of The Month

In all honesty it's not been a bad month on Tv. Shooting Stars with Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer returned with much hilarity on BBC2, Monday 9pm or there abouts. This long running comedy quiz show (I say that loosely) just gets better with age and still manages to be fresh after all these years, it's surreal, it's bizarre and more importantly it's a bit of irreverent fun.

Reality show Big Brother entered the fray in resurrected sense on Channel 5 (daily 10pm) after it was dropped by Channel 4 some time ago. First up is the celebrity version before the long running public one begins proper. There was much hype surrounding it but to be honest a B-list celebrities are all that entered the recreated opulent house and I turned off after just two episodes, according to viewing figures over 5 million viewers dumped it after the first night too.

Dragon's Den is also in full swing on BBC2 (Sunday 9pm usually) but I really feel the format is looking tired now despite the entrance of new down to earth female dragon 'Hilary Devey'. I'll still stick with it as there's new innovations of interest but generally it's much of the same.

Cheesy reality talent show 'The X-Factor' also reprised on UK screens this month (ITV Saturday 8pm) but even though all the judges are new despite Louis Walsh it still feels very 'Simon Cowell'. Mr Cowell is already ruffling feathers by replacing chart singer Adele with Sinitta for the boot camp stages at the alleged judges houses. Though I must confess to watching the early shows its just purely for laughs as deluded hopefuls try and prove they have what it takes to be the next manufactured robotic pop act that is ultimately launched by Cowell's label 'Syco'. Fair play to Mr Cowell, he plays a shrewd game and why scout for new talent when you can get it to come to you via a televised format? Sadly a large amount of the younger British public buy into the whole thing because of the show and thus we have groomed manufactured mundane pop acts all over the UK charts.

You can't blame some people for trying but sadly a good majority think they are recording artists after getting through the first audition. The fact is the finalists are fast tracked to fame and don't really have to work hard at proving themselves like aspiring acts did years ago, it's all too easy via the X-Factor, the result is generic rubbish that end up doing an album of cover versions until they are dropped back into obscurity they were once plucked from, none will have longevity of the likes of the Rolling Stones or Bowie.

Next up was the excellent 'Seven wonders of the Buddhist world' (BBC2 24th Aug) presented by the very gorgeous Bettany Hughes. What a refreshing hour and 15 mins of great television as Bettany guided us around the world to view shrines and temples of the Buddhist world from Thailand to Cambodia, from Nepal to the USA. Regular readers know I'm not a faith orientated person but buddhism does interest me as it is one of the few faiths in the world with a lot of common sense attached to it. I'd been to the Buddha shrine on Lantau Island in Hong Kong several years ago and I found it to be an amazing place and I smiled broadly in fond memory when Bettany visited it on the show.

Lastly we have 'Francesco's Italy tip to toe' on BBC4 Tuesday 8pm) in which eternally smiling elfin Italian Francesco da Mosta travels from his native Venice to the toe end of Italy whilst criss-crossing this beautiful and historic country. I blogged about him a few years ago when he did another travelogue style program sailing from Venice in search of the old Venetian empire around the Adriatic coast, Greece and Istanbul. Francesco is a proud Italian historian/traveller with plenty of character and deserves wider recognition for his great shows and books.

Below is the Buddha shrine at Lantau island, Hong Kong, featured on Bettany Hughes's 'Seven wonders of the Buddhist world' . I took this photo when I visited some years back.

Song Of The Month

Well this month has been a tester to be sure, it's whizzed past and a lot has happened. On the eve on my Gran's funeral I decided to post a song on my Facebook page that reflected her life and one we'd both probably like and I came up with Jethro Tull's 'Life is a long song'. The video consists of the singer of the band Ian Anderson and a small classical ensemble of musicians, it all works beautifully. Hope you enjoy!

A Personal Goodbye

Today I went to see Gran in the chapel of rest in the town where I grew up. Initially I had decided I wanted to remember her as she was but then I thought to myself if she could ever come back and chastise us then she'd almost certainly have something to say about nobody turning up to see her. I'm not superstitious by any means but I just imagined in my head what she'd say so I decided I owed it to her to go along and say my own personal goodbye and more importantly I felt passionate about doing it.

Dad took me over in his car and parked outside as I went into the chapel. I waited briefly in a comfortable reception area before being shown into a small room that was lit with soft deep rose coloured lights and there she lay. The man asked if I wanted to be left alone and I nodded, the door shut behind me.

I looked down at gran, she looked peaceful, her face was smooth and bereft of wrinkles, her delicate hands lay over each other across her stomach, her hair looked lovely. I didn't feel uneasy seeing her lay there dead, I've seen dead people before in the past. Feeling lost for words I muttered a few things, I greeted her the way she used to affectionately greet me which was 'Hey up Bod' (local slang/dialect).

My voice began to falter and my throat felt raw, what I said next was a few disjointed sentences that I shall omit from my blog, as you'll understand, they were personal but I will share that I thanked her for all she had done for me over the years and that of course that I loved her.

Gingerly I stroked her hair and said my final farewell and left. I thanked the staff and stepped outside blinking into the sun light and I don't mind confessing for a few moments tears coursed down my cheeks and sobs welled up within. Quickly gaining control I headed to dad around the corner and he drove me home. It was some time before we spoke, he gave me a little space and reflection time and I felt warm within knowing I had said what I needed to say to a lovely dear woman, my beautiful grandmother 'Doris'.

A Surreal Day

A surreal day in Nottingham. It began with a Jehovahs witness trying to thrust a pamphlet into my hand as I waited for the office to open. This was met by a sharp verbal rebuke. Shortly after I caught up with gossip over a coffee.

Then entered a black guy with one lens missing from his sunglasses.

Then after a entered a guy with a dog called 'sausage'.

Then I called the chapel of rest to see about visiting my recently deceased grand mother, though this isn't surreal as such but the context of talking about dead people on the phone isn't really the norm for an average day.

Even the train journey home felt strange.

I've felt a bit detached for a while though, Gary visit is over and has gone too fast combined with the death of someone I loved dearly. I've not felt great health wise either, my body being very random indeed.

Tomorrow I am going to say a few final words of farewell and thanks to my grandmother in the chapel of rest and Friday is the funeral. Perhaps then I can focus on the days ahead, my plans and life in general.

Hopefully normal blogging will resume soon.

Gone

I knew when the phone kept ringing at 8am this morning something must be wrong. At first I just ignored the home phone but then my mobile lit up beside me on the pillow and my aunts name popped up on screen. I knew it was bad news so didn't answer it.

She could only be ringing for one reason, and that was my dear grandmother had passed away.

I rang her back and my worst fears were confirmed, my grandmother Doris had died in her sleep this morning, she'd been ill for some time so it wasn't a complete shock but the news still smashed into me like a freight train. She was my last remaining grandparent and without doubt the one I loved the most too, I loved all the others but Doris was really special, she had a big part in my life over the years. In a few more days she would have been 89 years old. In her in final years she lived with my aunt who has done a remarkable job in caring for her but she remained hale and with all her faculties till the last, sadly the last few weeks she had been in much pain.

I cannot describe the loss I feel today, I want to type a longer blog but I just can't because I hurt too much. I will do a blog that will do her memory proud in the future.

She was a remarkable woman who gave me so much love - I'm utterly devastated.

Mr Sunshine Returns

I'm guessing my good friend Gary will be headed this way from Hong Kong as I type for a holiday and to see his parents... and see me of course!

I nicknamed him Mr Sunshine some time ago as when he visits the sun always seems to grace us with its presence. He's over with his wife and son so not much chance of a social drink, no bad thing as they sometimes get messy! I'm looking forward to seeing them all and hopefully going to the coast with them for the day. Safe Journey Gary and bring the sun as Britain hasn't really had a summer this year yet!

A Long Lost Love

I was sorting through my old cd's searching for one in particular. It seemingly took an age to find but isn't that always the case when you are searching for something? Today a mood came upon me to listen to some Jethro Tull, it's been a while since I've had them grace my ears. I've been a fan of Jethro Tull since the early 80s when a neighbour introduced me to them. I went to see them live at Manchester Apollo and then began to collect them on vinyl before cd's came along shortly after. Listening to them today has brought back fond memories, hours sitting listening to them in my bedroom as a teenager singing along (badly) to their lyrics. My passion for them has never abated but with life being hectic its rare that I actually sit and listen to music these days, a sad fact indeed. Still after rediscovering my long lost love for them this afternoon I shall have to put them on ipod or phone and take Tull with me.

I discovered this video, which seemed relevant as I've been playing Lord of the Rings online this morning, don't you just love lazy Sundays? Anyway, this video cleverly combines Jethro Tull and Lord of the Rings movie clips, I may have posted this before, it's certainly familiar but here it is to the very apt Broadsword track for Tull's album titled 'Broadsword and the Beast'.

Tv Of The Month - Small Teen, Bigger World.

I've not really watched much television this month, no bad thing really. The Apprentice ended with a good conclusion I thought and the right person won for a welcome change.

One program that did touch personal heart strings was 'Small Teen, Big World' which started as a four part documentary on BBC3 on July 11th. It opened with 3'8" (Hope I got that right) teenager called Jasmine (she prefers Jazz) saying 'I don't have a problem with my height but other people often do' or words very similar. All I can say is that being of hobbit like stature myself I empathised with Jazz immediately and each episode has evoked plenty of emotion within me. The series deals with certain aspects of Jazz's life in each episode, including the reunion with her estranged father, social life, holidays and relationships with those around her including her amazing grandparents and hysterical mum called 'Bev' who is a little gem in her own right.

The BBC needs to be commended for documentaries like this but I really wish it had made prime time BBC1 viewing to bring awareness of us small folks to the masses so we aren't people that are ridiculed in the street or just in films - we are a part of society. I'm a little taller than Jazz but I still face the same prejudices and obstacles at times and I can painfully recall what it was like growing up with the inner battles of trying to be who you are and sometimes wanting to be someone else. Age of course eases things but Jazz is probably coping in many ways better than I did, she really is very articulate, lovely and above all remarkable - a real heroine of our times.

Jasmine I just want to say thank you for sharing your life on the tv and say that you're an inspiration, your family is awesome and your mum has me giggling like a loon -what you both have is very special.

Nowadays when people ask me how I handle being short I reply 'I wear it, I wear it like an armour' - they never see that one coming but these days its true, I am proud of who I am and like you - never let it hold me back!

The Hobbit Goes South

So the day came, my planned trip to London and a day in the Camden area. I boarded the train and gazed out of the window musing what the day may yield. I soon get chatting to the guy next to me, we talk music and other things, he's a city boy, suited and booted but very likeable with it and in no time I am pulling into King Cross station. We joke to each other about the hustle and bustle to come and how unpleasant the London underground can be before bidding each other farewell.

I navigate through the hordes of bodies at Kings Cross and descend to the underground, as usual its hot and busy but I know its only two stops to Camden town so I can bear it. I hit Camden around noon and the sights and sounds instantly assault my senses as I leave the station. It's busy, very busy in fact and the flow of people is almost at a crawl. I head for one of the many markets in Camden and bag a couple of T-Shirts that Gary and I had seen at Christmas in Lincoln but couldn't get because the shop was closed, and when I returned later the shop was vacant. So the first purchase is definitely for the win, Gary will be happy when he comes over from China next month.

Then I am inexorably drawn to the Stables market across the road and my favourite clothing shop ever... Cyberdog. Like a sycophantic disciple I enter and head down the escalator. A large LED lights up the back wall and a DJ is playing bouncy electro vibes as I survey the panoply of clothing around me. To use a phrase my mate Tom once said 'I am dancing in my head' and there I stood with a little hobbit inside my head busting moves on a revolving dance floor in my mind, for a moment it really is overload as I just don't know what to do first. I randomly begin looking at clothing and its ker-ching as the cash register in my mind begins to turn over, I stand there salivating over awesome clothes 'want, want, must have, need, don't need but it looks cool' are what I am thinking. It takes little time to have my hands full, 3 t-shirts, a hat, a sweat band, socks and I realise I need to pay and get out before the credit card comes out and I do myself some real damage. It's a wrench but I pay and head back into the daylight feeling uber content.

The aroma of the many food stalls surrounds me and I decide I need to sit and eat and plan my next move. I soon crash down at a Chinese food stall having been charmed there with a free food sample by a pretty oriental girl. As I perch on my stool it feels like I am on the set of some Blade Runner-esque movie, the noodles I eat are excellent and I people watch constantly.

Then I head to the shops but with food inside me I feel lethargic and just want to sit down again and let the feeling pass. I head down Inverness street to a bar called 'The Good Mixer' which kind of reminds me of my local and it also allegedly has celebrities drink there on occasion, though no such luck for me this time. Sitting outside with a beer I recline and soak things in, Inverness street is somewhat quieter than Camden High street so I collect my senses and decide on my next move. I watch a Londoner stand nearby swearing repeatedly into his phone whilst breaking off sporadically to shout and sell his fruit and veg wares. In truth he is one of the few English voices I have heard so far as Camden is full of foreign people, it's very much a cultural melting pot. Suddenly a woman stands before me, she's adorned in a beret, silken scarf and tacky blue plastic sun shades. I'd say she was about mid forties but looked mid fifties, alcohol and drugs had obviously taken their toll. She asks for forty pence politely and I feel inclined to help and dig into my pocket producing a pound and forty pence, she ignores the forty pence and asks for the pound cheekily stating she needs it to get to an appointment. I look at her with knowing doubt and she caves in and says she actually needs a drink. Admiring her blunt honesty I give her the pound coin and she thanks me before heading off. Two minutes later a man stands before me and almost demands money and at this point I am beginning to think I should have sat inside. I point out I've just given money to someone and should I keep giving money to people I'll need money myself, he grumbles and walks off, at least the first woman had manners and a certain jaded style.

It's decision time, I ponder on a lengthy walk to Camden square to see the late Amy Winehouse tributes but feel hypocritical as I'm not really a fan and neither do I think she is a great star of our times. Regent's park pops into my head, I know it's nearby and roughly north of where I am, so I set off albeit a bit blindly plus I need a break from the shops and mass of people. Only a street away from Camden high street and I step into a surreal suburbia, large period houses on small crescent streets. It is hard to imagine that the cacophony of Camden High street is so close by. Stumbling through a few roads I see a sign for Regents park and soon arrive. Heading into the place I see it is indeed vast, I walk and walk yet feel I am getting nowhere. I sit on a park bench, survey the lush greenery around me and spy Telecom tower through the trees and saunter over to take a photo before sitting again and sorting my rucksack contents.

Checking my watch I see the afternoon is getting on, my friend Pat has just texted and he can meet for a coffee after work so I head back into Camden or so I think - yup I get lost! I know I'm not far off the beaten track and I curse myself as I thought I had mentally mapped things in my head. I spy a newsagents and pop in to buy some gum and ask for directions from the Indian shopkeeper. His directions are concise and excellent as the route back takes me along the canal and gets me back into Camden quickly and by a scenic route to boot, so I take some photos and send mental thanks to the shopkeeper for doing me a favour.

It's almost 5pm, I snatch a quick phone call with Pat and we agree to meet at Euston and I do some last minute shopping. Calling in a shop I've bought boots in before I'm greeted by a turkish looking old guy, he has savvy and he knows his sales patter. He looks down at my well worn Gordon Jack ankle boots and asks where did I get them from? We are soon locked in conversation and he shows me his wares, it is a good shop and I know you can haggle but the only thing he shows me are New Rock boots which I already have, in fact from the very same shop last year. I tell him I want something similar to what I am wearing, as they aren't as heavy as New Rocks. He offers me some pastel shaded boots that really aren't to my liking and it is looking like I am out of luck, he shrugs but a split second later has a eureka moment and dives off to the end of some racking and produces a pair of lightweight black New Rocks with velcro straps that look similar to what I am wearing. To add to my excitement they are in my size too, I try them on, they look awesome and we begin to haggle. They come down from £120 to £90 and we reach deadlock, as I know New Rocks are quality we agree on a deal and I head off to meet Pat feeling a very lucky hobbit.

In no time I am disembarking at Euston, it seems quite a lot has changed since I was there some years ago. Many years ago I had to get off the tube at Euston due to some bomb threat or something similar and run from there to Kings Cross to catch my train, it was a close call but I made it and in truth Euston and Kings Cross are quite close to each other, a ten minute stroll. I slump down on a wooden seat outside in a forecourt surrounded by coffee bars and restaurants. Soon Pat arrives, it's been about a year since I've seen him and he's looking well. His trademark beard and long hair surround his smiling face, we chat and he tells me about his new job over a strong coffee. We sit outside and the sun streams down though it is approaching early evening. It's good to see Pat again and he always has plenty to say and never fails to make me smile.

All to soon it is time for goodbyes, we take a steady walk to Kings Cross and continue to chat merrily away. There are huge throngs of people at Kings Cross and they seem to announce trains at the last possible minute, its a hasty goodbye and handshake and I am on the train leaving London behind and suburbia gives way to rolling fields.

I review the day, after spending more time in Camden I have to say it has lost some of its lustre for me, why I hear you say? Well, friends know I love the place but this time it felt too busy and though there are some amazingly good shops there are lots more selling the same touristy rubbish and cheap t-shirts. I still love Camden and its avant-garde bohemian vibe and I'll always return for buying clothes but this time I felt the good shops seem overwhelmed by touristy ones and this is a real shame. Camden is a special place but it is also very commercial these days too.

One final thing, my 'Boblbee' rucksack was amazing on the day, so comfortable to wear and its amazing how much you can get in it to say it is not overly big, it really did the business on the day. On the downside, my Sony Ericsson X8 phone was an epic fail. The battery ran down quick even though I used it maybe 5 times for different tasks of no great length. I need to get rid of it soon and also change networks as Orange is a pretty dire service provider these days.

43

So today I chalk 43 years on the board of life. Its been a quiet day, lunch with my dad and then a couple of drinks and good conversation with a friend. I've done some reading and watched some clips of my favourite films. I'm really taken back with the amount of birthday messages on the internet, surely birthday cards will one day be a thing of the past!?

Tomorrow I'm off to Camden for some retail therapy and a good few hours in a place I usually have little time to myself when I visit. So hopefully a good chance to browse the quirky shops there and also check out places I've not done so before. I've really enjoyed the fact today has been low key, restful and though another year has dropped off the calender I'm a content hobbit.

Hair

Hair is a funny thing, we groom it, comb it, toy with it, wash it and style it. We don't realise it but it's quite a big thing in our lives as we tend to use hair to make statements about ourselves or project our personalities, we usually spend a fair bit on hair vanity and upkeep, especially women, and rightly so as it looks good. Our hair makes us stand out or look individual, it can reflect who we are in many different ways.

For many years now I've had long hair, truth be known I love long hair and there's been protracted periods in my life where my hair has been a fair old length. Up until recently its always looked good despite the fact I have fine hair but lately the hair brush and the mirror have indicated my hair was getting thinner in a couple of areas, not vastly so but noticeable on scrutiny. The fact I have fine hair highlighted it more. Instead of letting my hair hang down and free I seemed to have in more in a pony tail over the last few months or would use voluminous type sprays or gels to sweep it in directions etc.

I very much wanted to keep my hair as I did like it long but age catches up with men's hair in many cases and although I wasn't rapidly balding by any means I still didn't want to look silly or be over proud in the face of nature taking its course. Baldness doesn't run in the family and the crown of my head is fine, the front though was receding quite a bit and it just didn't suit my long hair - it was time to take reluctant action and face certain facts (and listen to what some folk have been telling me).

I pondered things for a few days, procrastinated and my heart and head swung like pendulums on what course of action to take. The reality is I knew I had to let it go, as long hair weighs heavy on the scalp and shows things up even more, shorter hair wouldn't be so bad. I've never been one for mid style haircuts though, not since my twenties so the only real solution was a really short style that was graded.

This morning as I looked in the mirror I knew it was time to say goodbye to my hair. I knew of a barbers in Nottingham that is open around 8:30am, as I regularly see the guy washing down the steps of the place at that time. I had a hunch he'd be empty as I walked past and he was. So I went in and asked for frank advice. At first he didn't realise I had long hair until I whisked the pony tail before him and then I sat in the chair and it was down to business. He commented it was a real shame as my hair was thick for fine type hair and was only let down by the front a little but agreed with me on my thoughts. He fired the clippers up and dug into my mass of brown hair, as it cascaded to the floor I felt sad to see it go but happy of a new beginning in some respects. He graded it to a 3 and then down to 2 on my orders before rinsing it and checking for odd stray longer hairs and performing some cosmetic titivation. Then it was done. I looked down and saw my hair there and thought it looked tired and a little bedraggled - I'd done the right thing I mused.

Walking out I donned my black beany hat as my scalp felt cold being bereft of hair, I sighed yet felt relieved and to be honest now its shorter it just looks like short hair and nothing like balding hair at all, so it's all good.