In the many news reports I've browsed through lately, I spotted one modest story that Britain is drying up. All this good weather comes at a price which means the lack of rainfall is going to cause the hosepipe bans and frantic questions in the Houses of Parliament. Curiously enough a recent television report showed a reservoir with dwindling water levels. Time to panic? Apparently not. Despite expert advice and lessons of the past, no-one seems particularly interested that our summer might prov
Jobsearching is getting a bit frustrating. I've just been to the Job Centre to page through their vacancy database and found two new vacancies in the last seven days, for a town the size of Swindon. Both are self employed vacancies requiring own transport, so that rules me out.
With politicians breathing down our necks, the need for paperwork to prove we're all good little jobseekers is getting a bit much. I've been given another pair of forms asking for details of weeks of activity.
T
Nothing much to report today I'm afraid. A strong wid howls through the air conditioning, the world revolves on it's axis, and the good citizens at the library are behaving themselves, apart from one gent who made audible his disgust at Facebook, or the blood curdling scream from downstairs as the deadly were-librarian claims another victim. I'll need to be careful because I forgot my silver library card this morning.
The shocjk horror revelation today though is research by the Minnesota Pla
There are certainties in life. Day turns t night. Summer turns to winter. Bills arrive through the postbox. Nothing to watch on television. Luckily life isn't always that dull. Like yesterday. What a strange kind of evening.
To begin with the weather was fabulous. Another very warm day requiring liberal use of electric fans and cold drinks from the refridgerator. Despite this, the weathermen urged caution, because as the wise man knows, your typical briton has a memory span of three days and
In a blaze of media exposure - and no shortage of publicity by BBC News - we finally know who is to be David Tennants replacement as Dr Who. For those who don't know its... ah.... Who?
They chose an actor who despite having leading roles in the past is pretty well unknown. A non-entity? Well, personally, I'm hugely miffed the BBC didn't demand and beg me to play the role. I am after all fully qualified. I turn up, I pull rabbits out of hats, then fade into nonethingness as someone else gets
Now and again you see some motorist doing something dumb. Commercial Road is one hazard area. It's a one way street and sure enough sooner or later someone doesn't spot the signs and proceeds against the flow of traffic totally bemused at the agression and 'lunacy' of other drivers.
Just lately it seems Regent Circus is becoming a hazard too. Not because of any chabges, it still remains a busy ring road like it has been for decades, but there's something peculiar. At the bottom of the hill
So where was I at 09:25 this morning? Bet you can't guess... Oh, ok, you can. And you're right I was, waiting for the security guard to open the doors.
This morning the security guard began opening the doors, beginning with the coffee bar. A certain young man determined to be first up the stairs, brushed past and rushed inside, making his way around the back of the stairwell. Unfortunately on this occaision, he hadn't noticed the other guard opening the door to the stairway at the same time.
A little while ago I bumped into a guy who was involved in battlefield re-enactment. There's a few of them around - this isn't the first time I've encountered re-enactors. Dressing up in historical costumes and pretending to fight? Isn;'t that a little sad? Well... That depends on your viewpoint.
Re-enactment is after all a practical study of how people conducted themselves in times gone by and for that matter they sometimes get heavily involved in historical research. In an era when the wr
I live in a world that is increasingly surreal. I admit that. My horizons have shrunk enormously with the loss of transport and means to pay for it. That alone shouldn't be too significant because although I don't get out of the house much these days, I used to do so a great deal, thus I recall how it was to have a life.
Ahh, yes, those were the days! Pummelling peoples ears with a drum kit, flying aeroplanes, driving fast cars, and generally acting like every other young man with enough mon
Swindon gets a lot of stick. It rains, it's boring, it's a no-go area for the fashionable. yet even one of our foremost critics, BBC's very own Top Gear, sometimes destroy cars just up the road from our undesirable borough (and show some magnificent views of Barbury Castle in the last episode. Come on guys, show some culture). So far however I have failed utterly to go hiking and walk past Wroughton airfield while they're filming. It's only a matter of time, chaps.
Joking aside, there are se
Part of my everyday routine is the search for suitable paid employment. Not everyone realises that of course. Many assume I'm a lazy layabout who wants to lay in bed all morning, lay in the sun all afternoon, and lay comatosed on a park bench all night.
Not for me. Lazing about is more or less as boring as owning a cheap japanese hatchback and spending my free time wearing a grey suit just for fun. To be honest searching for a job isn't really any more enjoyable. It's just that I know you'
The hot topic in Swindon right now is lamposts. The new ones are installed and shining brightly at night already, and as I speak the old ones are being felled like dead trees. It doesn't stop there.
I was strolling along the canal walkway that heads north out of the town centre and on toward a trading estate where I intended to spend a few pence on replacing some broken tools. A couple of workmen were spraying the posts with aerosols. Usually that job is left to youths in hoodies, but I gues
Now this is a much warmer day. After a thirty minute walk to the programme centre I was sweating.
"Lovely day isn't it?" Said the young lady on the front desk. How she noticed that buried inside her air conditioned laminated trench is a mystery to me. Oh look, now I'm getting sweat all over the floor...
My mentor popped into the foyer to collect me with her usual polite cheeriness. She also mentioned what a nice day it was, and obviously concerned at my sweaty face enquired whether I had
I wonder what would happen if the worlds population was decimated by a sudden deadly plague? Its not a pleasant thought. Without the restrictions of an ordered society, opportunism and lawlessness would rapidly take hold. A guy I knew at work once told me that since he knew all about nature and the wilderness and stuff, come the revolution he would survive. You know what? I doubt it. He might have an advantage - assuming he really does know something, and assuming he's actually had some practice
Yesterday afternoon I braved the rain and popped down to the supermarket for my weekly needs. There's a magazine rack near the door from the central concourse and to be honest, I've long given up any interest in it. Basically the magazines on sale either tell you what's happening in the private lives of celebrities, what they're wearing this year, or how men can have a flat six-pack stomach like theirs.
This time though I noticed a copy of Mojo, an indie music publication intended for people
I finally achieved the impossible today. The bins were cleaned up and emptied of incorrectly placed stock.
It's a funny thing really. How do we measure the importance of achievement? In the grand scale of things, what I did today is small potato's. Okay, the boss is pleased, and that might affect my chances of getting a full time job, thus add to my properity and reputation, but in real terms the event doesn't interest anyone else and has probably been forgotten already.
What about savi
A doctors appointment at some ungodly hour of the morning forced me out of bed long before my unemployed body was ready to face another day. After all the trouble of using iron discipline and sheer willpower to push the duvet aside and start my epic journey to the bathroom, not to mention a long walk across town in the dark, they were locked when I arrived. Brilliant...
Good Morning Swindon
As the sky first began to brighten a bright star, or more properly some planet or other, was low abov
Tis the season of dreary grey weather. All the neon signs have been attached to lamposts in anticipation of that supposedly magical commercial festival at the end of the month, not to mention a small village of wooden sheds for a temporary market in the town centre.
Come to think of it, for some reason the public have decided that filling the streets was a good idea. If that was because they had time to spare while they were on strike against government cuts, then it's something of an eye-o
According to a recent survey by an employment website, only 14% of people ever end up in their dream job. What they haven't asked is how many of those 14% succeed at it. As a confirmed member of the politically stronger Failure Party (86% of the vote at the last count) I would like to point out getting your dream job is only half the battle, and that keeping it is sometimes a little tougher. There is of course the old wisdom that you should beware of what you wish for, and that the grass is alwa
Right then. The pavement is covered with undulating ice an inch thick. It's slippery, dangerous, and I'm fed up of risking my neck on it. So I retrieved my trusty spade from its burial place and got to work. I dug up a narrow path something like fifity to seventy yards long. Some pedestrians merely strode past me without a word, but three actually said thank you. I suspect an asian woman would have been number four but talking to strange caucasian shovel-wielders in the street isn't part of thei
I grew up during the Cold War. There were air raid sirens mounted on tall posts around the town, something I realised as a schoolkid although most of my friends were unaware of it. As a child I was hugely interested in aeroplanes and I remember those recognition manuals with grainy black and white photographs of those curiously gothic Russian military jets of the 60's and 70's. Of course I never saw them flying. I never saw them at all. That's no coincidence.
Some years ago I was hiking down
A couple of days ago I walked through the town centre. A street preacher was haranguing passers by with a disjointed sermon, triplets of words bellowed at the top of his voice as he sought someones attention, anyones attention.
"It's your choice!" He proclaimed, "You can choose!"
We certainly can, mate. We certainly can. We exercised our right and carried on about our lawful business. Except there are some people who are not permitted the same rights. They are not allowed to choose.
Waiting outside the library for opening time has become something of a ritual for me. Its funny how its a daily ritual for a lot of others too, and the same faces keep on turning up. We pretty much arrive at our usual times, and line up in the same positions. The wonderful diversity of life hasn't quite colonised Swindon then.
As was easily predicted, the same librarian unlocked the door (We'll call her Miss K) , a fidgety thin girl who rushes around like a housefly. There's a power operated
Last week was a plethora of cancelled appointments. Yet another landed on my doorstep on Friday. In formal and impersonal style the date was set later, leaving me free to answer the call of duty at the museum. Well, that's volunteering for you.
Monday opening? The museum tried that before and gave up. Today however, a coachload of french students are to be transported across Britain to our sunny old Swindon, for a special open day all for themselves.
Forty seven bemnused french youths sa
Now it's official - Privacy is dead. Get used to it. I learned that from Russia Today yesterday. That comes as something of a suprise since after decades of Cold War fiction I had no idea Russia had any privacy at all. So this is a cheery hello to all those secret agents in Russia who are currently reading my blog. Hi guys.
Euro Wobbles
Finacial experts (is there such a thing?) are predicting the current economic woes of the eurozone will continue for decades. Given the shakey record of so
