Some News Amongst the Olds

I've been a bit quiet, I know. Sorry. But since returning from our travels it's become evident that the news really is, to slightly misquote Terry Pratchett's Lord Vetinari, olds. I've been looking through the various news sites and seen plenty of cute animals, dumb criminals, children doing/ saying funny things, but we've seen it all before. But then today on the Mail a photograph brought me to a screeching halt.
What is it? What does it mean? Is it a bizarre art installation? An entry for the Turner Prize? Well no. It's the photograph of a man and his dog after a car accident. I know what you're thinking and no, I've not suddenly gone ghoulish. What made this photo stand out was that the man happened to be carrying several pots of paint in his car which burst open when it crashed. It should be colourful, but actually the result is less rainbow, more sludge. Luckily for the dog, it all came out in the wash. I think his master is going to take a little while longer to recover, and I suspect will need lifelong therapy for a newfound fear of paint.

Speed Photography

He who fixes the computer has a smart new bike. This is exciting news, because he's been riding the same Raleigh for so many years now that we'd come to believe they were inseparable. The Raleigh had begun life in a very fetching British Racing Green, but over the years disintegrated into what can only be described as 'Soot'. Popular legend has it the sum of the parts is kept together by the accumulated grime but, as we've never dared clean it, it's impossible to confirm. His new bike is a very dashing bright blue. Naturally, photos had to be taken, so the computer fixer rode slowly past as I desperately tried to focus on him before he disappeared from view. It proved far harder than expected, and reminded me of a similar problem encountered on our holiday.
We had arrived in Bourg d'Oisans, a lovely little town surrounded by mountains and enormously popular with cyclists lured there by the Alp d'Huez, and were told the road would be closed the following day as the pre-Tour de France training race would be passing through. So the next morning, cameras at the ready, we lined up along the road.
We waited. All was quiet. Then came a couple of motorcycles. Then a couple more. Then some cars. Then more motorcycles. Then ... yes! Cyclists! I fumbled with my camera for a second. Looked up. They'd gone! Fortunately that was the break, the pelaton was to come. We waited. More motorcycles. More team cars. More motorcycles. Then there it was, the pelaton. Okay, this time! Blast! They've gone!
Photographing cyclists is clearly a skill I've yet to master, but here's one of the Sky team leading the pelaton. Sorry it's a bit blurry, but those guys really motor!

AWOL Returns

I've been away, which you may have guessed by the prolonged lack of activity in the blog. Apologies, a long planned holiday crept up on me when I was distracted by other things and suddenly we were in our overstuffed car, whizzing through some jolly attractive parts of France.

We saw something odd whilst we were over there: sunshine! I have a tan, and my hair is a shade or two lighter, and I have peculiar stripes on my feet from my sandals. I have a vague memory of experiencing this stuff before, but it was so long ago I had begun to think I'd imagined it.

We spent most of the time in the Alps, both in France and Switzerland. In the latter I was persuaded, much against my judgement, to brave several cable cars and ski lifts. I have absolutely no head for heights and have a track record of coming over all peculiar on the bottom rung of a step ladder, so this was quite a challenge. I did it. Okay, so I had an iron grip on whatever bar or rail happened to be available, and kept a close watch on the cable, studiously ignoring he who fixes the computer's excited exclamations about the ant-like size of those, more sensible, folk on the ground, but I made it. The views were awesome, and I do believe the stress burned off excess holiday calories.

We had a slight blip with the car: we inadvertently drove over a rock on one of the mountain passes. We stopped to check the underside for any obvious damage, but all we could see was a scrape on the protective undertray. We drove on, congratulating ourselves on a lucky escape, but over the next couple of days a worrying squeak developed. I was convinced the suspension had packed up in despair at the narrow, steep, switchbacky passes, but repeated bouncing of all four corners of the car failed to reproduce the sound. Eventually, driven I suspect my constant harping on, he who fixes the computer rigged up a ramp and crawled underneath, discovering that all the noise stemmed from one tiny piece of metal that had been bent out of shape (well, that and an over-anxious wife). He bent it back into shape and stopped the noise, from both the car and the wife.

So, a couple of thousand miles, about six thousand photos, five loads of washing and more switchbacks than I can count later, here we are, back to normal. I have to say, I don't like it much, but at least we have a few photos to look back on.

The Rhone Valley

The Aletsch Glacier - reward for braving the cable car

New Month, New Story

Happy June to all my readers! And to celebrate the glorious sunshine (long may it continue) there is a new story in the QT library today. 'Off the Peg' is my response to a challenge - 'the new range' - set on the CTZ Writers' Club and is the story of the staff of a fashion chain waiting for their first glimpse of the new season's collection. It's a little bit silly, but I'm sure you're used to that by now!
Hope you enjoy it!

Bizarre, Mad and Spectacular

It's been a busy few days, but today it's back to work on the latest story for the third QT anthology. This current story is the longest yet of the new collection, but has been one of the quickest to write, another anomaly of the creative process. But even while the stories are coming together, the search for inspiration continues.
Today there are several stories that caught my attention, the first being the science blogger who claims to have spotted a lizard in a photograph taken on Mars by Nasa's Curiosity rover. I'd be delighted to be proven wrong, but come on! It's a rock that sort of looks a little like a lizard if you squint your eyes, in much the way a cloud can resemble a hamburger or an Aston Martin DB7. Still, it's got the UFO, conspiracy theorists excited, and there's plenty of material for a writer there!
Another that captivated my imagination and horror in fairly equal measure is that of the surveyor planning to live on a rock in the sea for 60 days. The rock in the photograph doesn't look much bigger than the science blogger's 'lizard', with the added interest of being surrounded by tumultuous seas. I find it hard to see the attraction but, strangely, it's stirred a few ideas in the 'weird' section of my brain. (I try not to go there too often because it gives me nightmares.)
The final story I want to share actually hasn't inspired me creatively, but it's the oddly satisfying tale of the lady who, after 20 years of hard work and devotion, has managed to train a wisteria along a 252 foot long wall. Her reward is a spectacular display of blooms that turned an old brick wall into a blaze of purple. It's all the more pleasing because she hadn't a clue what she was doing, she just wanted the vine to cover the wall. Job done, I'd say.

Wood You Have the Time on You?

Last week I posted the link to Rob Heard's beautiful bough houses. Now I can bring you the perfect accessory to compliment his sculptures: Valerii Danevych's wooden watches.
No, I haven't gone mad, he really does make working watches out of wood. Each part is carefully carved out of different woods and assembled into watches that are accurate to within five minutes in a day. They're gorgeous, but I'd be far too afraid to wear one. To start with, I'd probably spill my coffee on it, or break it when I crashed into a door frame or wall (as I'm wont to do), but furthermore, I'd get nothing done because I'd spend the whole day admiring it.
The Mail's link has some good photographs, but for a better view of his work, take a look at Valerii's own site.

Welcome Home

Ah, the romance of a honeymoon, the sun-kissed beaches, the cocktails, strolls along the shore as the sun sets, the return home to find your brother has painted your house pink and yellow.

That's precisely what Steve and Hayley O'Rourke found when they got home from their honeymoon. Steve's brother, Russell, had painted their house bright pink with yellow spots in revenge for Steve bricking up his drive when he got married some years before. They demonstrate an impressive commitment to pranking. Most people settle for confetti and silly string.

Apparently the newly-wed couple's neighbours are generally pretty pleased with the new paint job, saying it brightens the street. However, the new Mrs O'Rourke has indicated it will be restored to normal as soon as they have time. I suppose that'll be the most obvious sign that the honeymoon is really over.