For those needing light relief

here's a little something that a friend showed me. If you're feeling fed up, spend a little time watching the Sea Otter Cam See them having fun certainly brightens your mood. There are plenty of other cams to choose from, should otters not be your bag.

A thought

I realise that there is a current craze for "pimping" cars. Some of the things people seem willing to do to their cars amaze me. What I have yet to fathom though: Do they make their exhausts sound really loud to drown out the crap music they insist on playing, or is the music really loud to drown out the annoying exhaust note? I guess it's a bit chicken or egg!

Celebrities

Early post today - another half day in the office. I'm taking holidays to ensure Godzooky 1 gets to a birthday party. That boy has a better social life than me at the moment! I read on G's blog about her celeb spotting in a local mall, and mentioned that I had met David Beckham. This seemed to provoke some interest, so I thought I'd post about it. It was a few years ago, when he still played for Manchester United. It was the local football derby game, Manchester United vs Manchester City. At the time we only had Godzooky 1 and we'd been out for the day. Feeling lazy we decided to grab a burger on the way home and were passing a Burger King near to Manchester United's ground. So we pulled into a parking space and Mrs Zilla went in to get the food, while I waited in the car with a sleeping Godzooky. I'm sitting there, when another car pulls into the space alongside me, it's a silver Ferrari with tinted windows. The driver swings his door open and bashes the side of my car with it. Such is the crunch that Godzooky wakes up. The other guy is just walking away. So I open my door and shouted "Hey!" When he turned round, yes, it was David Beckham. I think he thought I must be yet another fan after an autograph, because he had a wry smile on his face, a sort of, "yes, it's me" look. Not being a Manchester United fan I wasn't particularly bothered about it being him, I was more aggrieved at him bashing my car. Celebrities are just people after all. So I asked him why he had hit my car with his door, and he said that he didn't realise he had, which I found hard to believe. I made him come back to the car to see if there was any damage, but there wasn't. I pointed out to him that he should take more care when opening his door in future. To his credit, he did eventually apologise, and then went off to get his burger. When Mrs Zilla came back with the food, she was singing his praises, about how nice he smelled. My lasting impression of the whole experience though, is the shoddy tinting of his car windows - it was full of air bubbles. Why pay £200,000 for a car and then have an idiot tint your windows?

Three more weeks (at least)

I took Mrs Zilla to the fracture clinic this morning, for her first appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon. He reviewed her X-Rays and swiftly concluded that the cast stays, at least until her next appointment in three weeks. Not the news that either of us wanted to hear. She's already fed up of not being mobile - and her lack of upper body strength isn't helping her get around well on her crutches. We had tears again as she tried to get to the fracture clinic. I don't like to sound unsympathetic, but she doesn't cope well with discomfort or pain. I'd really rather it was me with the broken ankle - I do try to get on with things, and not complain too much. Plus I wouldn't have to get up with Godzooky 3 every hour during the night because he's teething! On a lighter note here's a man who would cope perfectly well without the use of one limb:

Harry Kahne, was an extraordinary human being. In the picture above, he is writing with both hands, both feet, and his mouth simultaneously. The right hand is writing backwards and in reverse, and the mouth is writing backwards but correctly. Just one of his many extraordinary multitasking feats

I could

write another post that would have an "Oh woe is me" scent to it, but I'll endeavour to park my problems at the door. *Firm wipe of the shoes* I saw this on G's blog, so thought I'd give it a go: Six Weird Things about me: 1) To truly enjoy an apple I have to quarter it before eating. Whilst I've not got a compulsive need to do this, I can eat apples the normal way, I don't enjoy them as much. I don't know why that should be. 2) I have an inordinate number of freckles and moles on my body. Yes, even one on that part of my anatomy. (I could see you thinking!) I could be almost a human dot to dot book - the pictures that could be produced are innumerable. 3) I am perfectly happy with my own company, and could quite happily spend a lot of time alone. I think this comes from being an only child , and having a lot of self reliance as a youngster for entertainment. 4) If I start reading a book, I have to finish it. No matter how dreadful the book it must be completed. That probably is OCD in action. 5) Further to my book obsession, I cannot stand to see a book with the spine bent backwards. It just seems wrong to me to treat a book that way. 6) I like to understanding things, the way they are and what causes them. My mother tells a story of me crying at the end of my first day at school. Not because I was upset or unsettled, but because I hadn't learnt how to read properly. That probably says a lot about me too. I found that quite hard to do - I don't see a lot of weirdness in my behaviour or tastes. If it was Mrs Zilla I would have had trouble picking the top 6 weird things. She has borderline OCD on most things she eats. Chocolate bars have to be assessed as to which end has the thicker chocolate (to be saved till last). She cannot bear to touch polystyrene or "rough wool". The list seems endless. Perhaps my "normality" is only a reflection of how I see myself compared to her?

Another weekend - another problem

I don't know what it is - karma? the alignment of celestial bodies? the fickle finger of fate? or just strange coincidence? I do try not to make all these posts whinging, sour tasting and painting a drab picture, but at the moment life just seems to be biting me on the arse, and not in that horseplay, sounds like it might be fun type way. Life means it, and I've got the teeth marks to prove it. If you're looking for sweetness and light please peruse the links on the right - they're all damn good blogs and you may find a ray of sunshine contained therein. This post is not a happy one, but then I'm not in a happy place at the moment. So, after a long hard week at work I left on Friday evening. We had a plan, a good one too. Godzooky 1 was at a friends house. We were to get some supplies, wine, nice food etc, swing by this friend's house, pick him up, home, bath kids in bed and relax. Sounds good, I was looking forward to it and then one of the above culprits decided to mix up the evening a little bit. Shopping was good and easy, we arrived spot on time to pick Godzooky 1 up, so far so good. However, as she walked across the front lawn of this house, Mrs Zilla went down like there had been a shot from the grassy knoll. So I get out of the car and go to check on her. She's screaming and crying, saying that she think's she's broken her ankle. So a quick scoop up of Godzooky 1 and I manage to help her get to the car. We drop the kids off at her mum's and head for casualty. We don't go to our nearest hospital, as we know from bitter experience that it's X-Ray dept closes at 5pm on a Friday. If we go there we'll be sent home to wait till Monday. The NHS is great. So we head for the main hospital in the city. It's around 7pm by now, so I'm hoping that we're going to miss the Friday night rush, that'll come later when the pubs and clubs shut. Anyhoo, she get's X-rayed and it's a confirmation of a fractured ankle bone. Plaster required. Of course, there's none of the plaster boots available that you can walk on, so she'll have to be on crutches for at least two weeks, and possibly up to six weeks. To be fair to the National Health Service we were dealt with in under two hours, which is pretty good going. So we got the kids home around 9.30pm and finally got to eat our food around 10.45pm, once I'd got the Godzookies in bed and cooked. Neither of us had a particularly great appetite anyway. There were lots of tears as Mrs Zilla endeavoured to get up the stairs. Saturday and Sunday have just been a blur - I've run about doing all the household things, sorting out the kids and Mrs Zilla's needs. To cap off a wonderful weekend I was up most of last night with Godzooky 3. He's decided that now will be a good time to start teething. Great, just what I needed. So this morning was another whirlwind, getting everyone up and dressed. Godzooky 1 delivered to school and to be picked up later. At least Mrs Zilla's mum is going round to help look after the two youngest. These are going to be very long weeks, I can tell. I hope you all had a far better weekend than me. Please ignore all doom laden comments that I may leave on your blogs, it's just where I am at the moment!

This isn't

the lost post from yesterday - Blogger clearly deemed that unworthy of posting! This is related to it slightly though. *peeks to make sure Blogger isn't looking* I was going to post about my habit of buying old albums on CD whenever there's a sale on, and my lack of new purchases. So last night after playing my "new" CDs I put on another oldie, dating from when I was about 17. Before I'd left the Lakes to go to college. You know how a song can just transport you back to a certain time, well this one certainly did: A Million Miles by The Wedding Present: I must have walked past this doorway thirty times Just trying to catch your eye, You made it all worthwhile When you returned my smile It all became worthwhile Does it feel a little cold stood by the door? Oh I’d really like to talk some more Don’t worry about your friend I think she left some time around ten What was your name again? You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met We don’t see much of Sally over here Oh, I’ve known him off and on for years He’s never mentioned you before Oh, that didn’t come out right at all And now I feel this small That seem to be it Don’t get me wrong But how are you going to get back home Oh I’d be willing to walk that way There’s something I’ve just got to say I could walk a million miles today You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met Kept bursting out with laughter all the way home I had to tell somebody, and you happened to phone I can’t think of anything else, no matter how I try But you know, I can’t even remember the colour of her eyes And that’s right You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met Well, at least not yet. It transported me back to the days of teenage parties, where you would desperately being trying to get together with a certain someone, and the excitement that came from kissing someone for the first time. The Wedding Present capture the naivety and breathlessness of those times so well, the lyrics evoking the awkwardness and the crushing reality (for me at least) of disappointment. Last night it transported me back to a teenage moment. I'd had a crush on this girl for quite sometime. She wasn't one of the most popular girls, she was quiet and unobtrusive. I always found her great to talk to, and she had one of those magical smiles that lit up a room. Never being over confident when it came to girls my crush stayed hidden. Such was my lack of confidence that I never assumed girls found me in the least bit attractive. Most of my girlfriends were thanks to my mates telling me "You do realise that X fancies you?" Anyhow one night after a large group of us had been out to a party and we were getting a coach back. The coach was packed and there weren't really enough seats for everyone. So who comes over and asks if they can sit on my knee? Yes, the girl I had a major crush on. That was a journey that seemed to answer all my prayers. The girl of my dreams, sat on my knee, slightly drunk and we got on like a house on fire. I'd love to be able to say that we kissed all the way home and that we had a magical time together. However being a fool comes more easily to me, and I never even made a move to kiss her. She must have been pretty tolerant and understanding because I still kept in touch with her by letter for my first year away at college. Then her parents moved, we both moved student residences and we lost touch. In the cold light of day I can see what a stupid fool I was. Hindsight is a wonderful thing when you can change things, but a cruel companion when you can't. I don't doubt that we would never have lasted, but I would have loved to have enjoyed it while it did. Right Blogger, I hope this is worthy enough!

Hmmm is Blogger trying to tell me something?

So just to totally vindicate this whole new approach to Wordpress and to emphasise just how unreliable Blogger is, the post I wrote earlier vanished just as I was about to press publish. Ah well, perhaps Blogger is now stealthily detecting crap posts and preventing them from being posted? Well it'll take more than that to get this html-phobe to do anything drastic. Is that the best you've got? Bring it on! (Now hoping that I really haven't tempted fate)

A Hatrick of posts

for one day, but then due to illness and general work drudgery I've not posted for too long. A quick scan around my favourite world of blogs reveals a new trend towards Wordpress. It all looks lovely over there, and I'm totally with everyone regarding Blogger being a pain. It's taken me long enough to get to grips with putting links in my sidebar (with thanks due to fluff and Lily for teaching me that). The prospect of trying to move all this crap I've accumulated over the last year fills me with more dread than a house move. At least with a house move I know what I'm packing, where I've put it and where it needs to go in the new home. So I think I shall be labouring on with Blogger - in one sense it develops my patience, which is essential with three small children running around at home! So my next task is to update all my links, which I think I am able to do relatively trouble free now..... Although look what happened last time I assumed things were going to be ok (see previous posts), Eeeek!

Butterfly ABC

Kjell Sandved photographs letters and numbers found naturally on the wings of butterflies:

I thought this was great, and I know at least Snav has an interest in butterflies.

I'm back, from Outer Space...

Well, from what felt like the brink of oblivion actually. I spoke far too soon last week – I didn’t manage to avoid the bug after all. If you are eating, or even thinking of eating, stop reading now. Father’s Day began nicely enough, with breakfast in bed and a small gift from the children. (Although as an aside I have noted that there was no card made at school, despite Mrs Zilla getting one for Mother’s Day. Probably due to the fact that many kids don’t live with their dad anymore, but I still feel left out!) Then began the uncomfortable sensations in the depths of my stomach. You know the ones – you feel queasy, but not enough to actually be sick. This built steadily throughout the morning, but still no desire to retch. Lunchtime came and went with no desire to eat, and by mid-afternoon I’d had enough and decided to see if the situation could be resolved. On my next visit to the bathroom I just imagined being sick and that seemed to do the trick. Cue some time spent talking on the big white telephone, and an instant upturn in my state of feeling unwell. Until the aching started – it felt like I had flu, that sort of ache (and I mean proper flu, not the namby pamby man flu!). Coupled with a raging temperature I was starting to regret the ejection of stomach contents. I’d felt queasy before, now I felt as though red hot needles were being inserted into all my joints. Obviously my feeling unwell, especially on Father’s Day solicited lots of concern and sympathy from Mrs Zilla. Or so I expected. No – she was quite willing to swan off to her concert, on Father’s Day, leaving me to feed, bath and get ready for bed all three kids. She left at 3pm, I had managed to get everything done and crawl into my bed of despair by 7.30pm. To add insult to injury Mrs Zilla returned home at 1.00am, there had been trouble getting out of the concert car park (try not parking right next to the venue next time darling), and promptly woke me up to tell me how great the concert had been. This was a concert by some has been ex-boy band, who I detested at the time they were around in the mid 90s, and my love for them has not increased since. Then she had the nerve to tell me that I had made the bed too warm! Excuse me for having a fever! It’s not often that I question why I am married with children, but that was certainly the case right then. So I look forward to next year’s Father’s Day with bated breath…

A week best forgotten

I've had such a crappy week. Work has been relentless, too many deadlines, too many problems. At home the bug mentioned previously has gone through the other household members (with the exception of me) So a lot of my spare time has been spent cleaning up bodily fluids and tending to family members' needs. I am grateful that it's Friday, but already next week is looking gloomy too. Hopefully my worst fears won't be realised, and this will be a place of calm and joy next week - that's if anyone can drag themselves here to find out. I've not even caught up with my favourite blogs for the last day or two - so I'm hoping you guys have got something to raise my flagging spirits......

The best laid plans

I had good intentions today to do the long post about the days out enjoying the good weather, but I've forgotten to bring the camera with the pictures on. So I'll write random crap about something else. Our national obsession with all things weather related continues in rivalry to the wall to wall world cup coverage. Even I, as a football fan, am finding 3 live games a day a little too much. The weather is continuing to be hot and humid, and the newspapers rejoice in telling us that the weather here is warmer than Los Angeles and other far flung places. What they seem to forget is that we are unable to cope with the extremes of weather conditions. Too warm and we don't cope due to lack of airconditioning, (our office is meant to have it, but it never works) too much rain and we suffer flooding. Snow and the roads are blocked, if not by snow, then by accidents caused by drivers unable to drive in the conditions. On a personal level I find generally that I adapt fairly well to whatever conditions are prevailing at the time. Rain doesn't really bother me, and heat is ok, as long as it's dry heat. I really don't like the hot, sticky conditions that we currently have - you can't do anything without feeling uncomfortable. So it seems like a good excuse to stay indoors and watch the world cup. But for once I am finding it hard to actually get into the tournament. In previous years I've watched almost every game, to the detriment of my college degree - bad timimg to have a world cup on when you should be revising for your finals, especially coupled to easy access to cheap alcohol at the student bars! I'm also finding it fairly incredible that the nation has become draped in flags of St George, almost from coast to coast. The numbers of cars flying flags is beyond belief :

My personal best is 6 seen on one car.

I do find it more than slightly ironic that people wish to symbolise their patriotism by flying an English flag on what is inevitably (since the ultimate destruction of our car industry) a foreign car!

Although it does make quite a refreshing change to see people actually backing our nation, instead of the usual grumbling, apologetic approach we take to these things.

In another football related finding, I came across this - the wee goal:

The football dangles on a thread, with the intention that the man using the urinal focuses his, ahem, stream, on it to "score" goals. The idea is that there will be a lot less mess, which seems to me to be a winning idea.

Apparently a similar approach was tried in Schipol airport just outside Amsterdam. They embossed their urinals with a "fly", giving men something to aim at, and their cleaning costs reduced by 80%.

More information and the chance to buy one of these little gems can be found at :

http://www.wee-goal.com/

Pass the bucket

I'm up to my ears work wise at the moment, so no long post or pictures from last week (sorry Tich, knowing how much you were looking forward to them!) I'm actually glad to be out of the house, and away from the vomitting bug which seems to have a stranglehold on our eldest. On Saturday night he appeared in our bedroom at around 2.30 to announce that he felt ill. He then promptly threw up all over our bed. Mrs Zilla took the brunt of it, but it was quite projectile in nature, so a large proportion of the bed received a covering. Then he turned and managed to cover the entire carpet leading to the doorway. At this point I managed to guide him into the bathroom to prevent further damage, or so I thought. Having positioned him over the toilet bowl I returned to the fray in the bedroom. Whipping the covers off the bed I headed to the washing machine, thankfully as it was a very warm night it was just the sheet that was obliterated by vomit. On my way back I checked on Godzooky 1, who had managed to stand up in the meantime and cover the area surrounding the bowl with vomit too! To be fair, some was resting on the edge of the bowl, although that was more by chance than good aiming on his part. It took till around 4.00am to sort out the damage and get him back into bed. By which point I was wide awake and unable to get back to sleep. We endeavoured to make him rest yesterday, but he insisted that he was fine by the afternoon and he joined the family in the living room. Against my advice Mrs Zilla gave him some milk that he had requested. Once more my judgement call was proved correct when he again suddenly announced he was going to be sick and covered another carpet with his emissions. Milk regurgitated, nice. At least today (so far) Mrs Zilla hasn't reported a repeat performance. Isn't it great being a parent?

Back to life

It's a strange one today - in some ways I'm glad to be back at work: keeping the piles of stuff on my desk to a minimum, enabling myself to hit deadlines etc etc But I have really enjoyed my time off - we've all had a great time, although I'm absolutely shattered from running round with the Godzookies everywhere. Now I just need to catch up on everyone else's blogs, which will probably take me about another week. More details on the fun we've had and possibly some pictures. Watch this space....

Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out

Well folks, this will be my last post for a week. I've actually got a whole 4 days off work. I need this break, I'm feeling very burnt out, dealing with stroppy staff, ever changing deadlines, tiredness and general crap. So a nice break in the Lake District, staying chez Grandma Zilla should suitably recharge the batteries. I'll endeavour to actually take some pictures and maybe even post some on here. I think the break from blogging may also do me some good, and I hope to have lots to catch up on from my favourite blogs. So be good guys, and if you can't be good, have fun!

Need something to fill your time?

Les Stewart of Queensland, Australia began typing the numbers from one to a million — in words — in 1982. It took him 16 years, seven typewriters, 1000 ink ribbons, and 19,990 sheets of paper to finish. And he did it all with one finger. From Recordholders.org:

When asked why he has undertaken this time consuming and repetitious task, Les says that he has little else to do now that he has been classed as an invalid, and can no longer work.

Besides that, Les enjoys typing and used to be a police typing instructor before his sickness which meant his withdrawal from the force.

Typing an average three pages a day with one finger since April 1982, Les said his secret was to type for 20 minutes on the hour, every hour.

Les is no newcomer to breaking records: Some years ago he broke the Australian Record of treading water, and then he went on to swim continuously for 30 hours, establishing another Australian record.

Hmmm, an ex-police typing instructor who types with one finger? I'm starting to see why police reports take so long to be filed!

Still it's nice to see someone have a different hobby....