Friday, June 24, 2005

Exploding Wombles Perhaps?

I know Wimbledon gets its fair share of odd weather, but a couple of comments the other night suggest they're expecting something a bit more dramatic that the odd rain-break.

Firstly, a commentary over a romantic view of the sun setting behind the courts went along the lines of "there's the sun, setting in the west as usual" to be followed a few minutes later by Sue Barker dropping "if the sun comes up tomorrow" into a round-up of the order of play.

Do they know something we don't?


It's a moot point which method is liable to produce the most skewed view of what a manager's saying - trying to dechipher drunken spider handwriting or trying to work out what a dictation tape says - but it would appear others aren't as assiduous in checking and triple checking what it's actually meant to say.

Received a letter in today that not only has the random phrase "no co-donating" (eww) - which from context is presumably supposed to be "not co-ordinating" - but also "are request were" where it should presumably be "our request was" - which gives me a weird impression of the supposed dictator as a broad Yorkshireman...

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Signs of impending senility

Telephone conversation this morning - couldn't find the pad that I'd written something on, so said, oh I'll call you back, scrabbled about on my desk looking for it, wondered who'd pinched it - then realised that I'd been taking notes on it during the conversation. Argh.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005


A question on the Wimbledon website survey:

Please indicate your gender. (Please select one answer.)

What really gets me is the fact the form was set up to only take one answer anyway.

Monday, June 20, 2005

It's a baby!

And while we disreputable elements were out stuffing our faces and quaffing the majority of a restaurant's wine supply, I've just heard that Babs (my colleague) was at that very point giving birth to a baby girl - 5lb 14.5oz, and only 2 and a half hours in delivery (albeit a week overdue!).

As someone just said, like shelling peas! Well, probably not very like. And given the option I know I'd take the restaurant every time. But hey, congratulations!


We ventured out into the Falmouth weekend dining experience once more on Saturday night, with a trip to Seafarers with some friends.

Overall it was great, although the service left a little to be desired - turning up bang on time we were left standing like lemons in the centre of the restaurant as they decided to put us on a different table, which would first have to be cleared and set up.

Once we managed to get seated, we then had some effort to attract enough attention to order drinks. Ordering (just!) a third bottle of wine later on in the evening we were told they didn't have any more of that type chilled!

Waitress A had no clue what the specials were, and was thrown when I ordered one "what's that? oh, it must be new" (and then spelt it wrong on her pad). Waitress B asked who'd ordered the scallops and who the calamari, and promptly put them down in front of the wrong people, proving she had no idea what they were.

The basket of bread slices we were given was nice, but somewhat marred by the discovery that the pot of butter was actually foul tasting marge.

The chicken supreme wasn't (apparently) technically chicken supreme, nor was the moules marinere technically that. And I still have no idea what the Trio of Cornish fish that I had actually were, it not being written or explained anywhere, and the waitresses flitting like mayflies too quickly to ask.

Having listed all that, it sounds awful, but it wasn't, it was lovely. The fish (whatever they were!) was really nicely cooked, and not a single bone (possibly the first time I've been somewhere that's managed it). The artichoke and brie risotto I had as a starter I could have sat and eaten a huge bowl of. And the Callestick strawberry ice cream I had to finish with was heavenly, and very nicely presented in a little snappy basket thing (always wanted to try one of those).

So a good evening had by all!

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Guinea-pig Juggling and Rat Burgers

Originally uploaded by CornishRambler.
Yesterday was Show day, and pretty much ideal weather, hot but not blazing sun - wonder how many people will have forgone the sunscreen-and-hat combo and woken up this morning like an overcooked lobster...

We dutifully examined most of the animal tents - bunnies, guinea pigs (I'm hoping the judge that was weighing one in each hand wasn't actually about to start juggling, but that's what it looked like), goats, birds, poultry (there are some really weird chickens out there), piggies and cowses (ok, enough with the twee naming).

One of the many fun things about the cow shed is watching the people that have come in sandals (as it were) trying to walk round without actually touching the floor. We heard one bloke go "Ooh that wasn't very clever was it!" and turned round to see that he'd managed to walk right through an enormous pile. Like I said, very entertainning, the cow shed.

Naturally, we spent a large proportion of time stuffing our faces - coffee, doughnuts, lukewarm rat-burger (me), pasty (Chris) and ice cream. The (organic) ice creams were fantastic - honey & lavender, and orange & champagne, from Helsett Farm. They don't seem to have a website, but various listings give their details (from Boscastle) and the contact name is Ms Sarah Talbot-Ponsonby, which is frankly marvellous.

On to the funfair, and fruitless attempts at the hoopla and so on (I won something on it once, years ago, and have a go every year in hope of one day replicating the feat, to win a badly stitched soft toy that I don't want). Had a go at the archery too - the chap handed me the bow and asked if I could draw it. So I pulled it back, and he went "Blimey, I'm not arguing with you!". Managed to get one right in the centre too, so went off smugly enough to make myself dizzy on the rides.

Friday, June 10, 2005


Sainsbury's fresh pink lemonade, especially with a shot of bacardi in it. Actually, rather a full scale drive-by shooting than a shot, but either way very pleasant in the hot weather.

Fat Badgers
Happened across this pub-guide site - love the name.

Royal Cornwall Show
Off to the show tomorrow, to work our way round as many fast-food stalls as we can before passing out in the heat. Hang on, wasn't that the plan for Padstow too? Oh well, if it ain't broke...

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Happy St Petroc's Day

"The abbot Petroc is probably Cornwall’s best-known saint. He was a native of South Wales, and lived in the 6th. century. He arrived in Cornwall at Hayle and founded a monastery at a spot later called Petroc’s Stow, i.e. Padstow, on the north coast. A further foundation followed at Little Petherick, not far away, as well as smaller hermitages. Petroc took to living as a hermit on the wilds of Bodmin Moor; he is not the only Celtic saint to have had a particular ability to tame wild animals, and his emblem is a stag, in commemoration of one which he protected from huntsmen. The cult of St. Petroc became widespread in Devon and Cornwall, in South Wales and in Brittany, even becoming recognised in Italy."

"St. Petroc was a Welsh nobleman who was educated in an Irish monastery and then sailed with a small band of followers to Camel estuary. He arrived in the estuary and built a church at Padstow with a Celtic monastery as a centre for spreading the Christian faith. In his travels he also started churches in Bodmin and Little Petherick, as well as in many parts of Britain, Wales and Brittany. King Constantine ruled the area at this time and was said to have been converted to Christianity by St. Petroc when he rescued the deer that the King was hunting. There are many legends about St. Petroc's healing, miracles and banishing monsters. He was buried at Padstow. In the 12 th Century St. Petroc's Church in Bodmin got his relics and put them in a painted ivory casket, which can still be seen today."