Crock of Gold

About four years ago Mary's sister, Sandra, bought Mary a ceramic piggy bank. Mary decided she would feed it two pound coins. For the last few years she has spent scarcely a single one. They all went into the jar (along with any she could steal from me).


Crock before smashing

But then it got so full that even with a good shuggle we could not get another coin in so it was time for the hammer! Including three coins in her purse that could not be forced in, the grand total came to a surprisingly tidy sum!!


Crock after smashing


Counting the money

Of course it's all gone now - she went to Max Mara and bought a very fine, brown winter coat and used the change to buy trousers and a dress.

My old Claud Butler

A while back Rosa asked about my trusty steed - an old Claud Butler (no "e" in Claud). Well she asked...

I bought it second-hand off Penny (Dave's first wife) sometime around 1984 (give or take a year). It is obviously a man's frame. It makes more sense for a woman to buy a male frame as they are stronger (or lighter for the equivalent strength). The saddle tube had snapped so I had to get that extracted and bought myself the classic Brooke's leather saddle it still has to this day.


Claud Butler frame

Over the years almost every part has been replaced apart from the frame, forks and handle bars. The seat post, saddle, wheels, chain rings, rear block, mudguards, panniers, crank arms, pedals have all been replaced at some point. I even had the frame stripped and repainted its current metallic blue colour. The guys who did it welded a crack near the headset and kindly preserved the CB badge. The model is unknown but I know the frame is 501 tubing.


Claud Butler badge

When I worked in London I used to cycle the 9.25 miles from South Wimbledon to Devonshire Square in the City (of London) for four years from the beginning of April to the end of November clocking up over 10,000 miles. Plus various other excursions means that saddle and my bum have been through a lot together. Then I changed job, started working out of London and the bike no longer got the same usage until this current contract back in London.


Claud Butler saddle

For the full story of urban cycling this time round go to Like a Fish Needs a Bicycle and work your way forward.

More of Dad's Pictures

I took a load of pictures of the pictures at the opening of Dad's exhibtion at Wolfson College, Oxford. I have reworked his site and started to put those pictures online at http://www.michaelmclellan.com/.

Click on Gallery 1 to see thumbnails and links to bigger versions. I have done the first dozen, only 29 to go!

This is a holding site at mmenterprises.co.uk until I can get his domain name transferred over and a proper hosted site put up.

The Italian Grand Tour Dinner

Friday, October 06, 2006

Another BBR extravaganza down in the sub-basement of the Napoleon cellars, so named because one of the founders, Mr Rudd, was mates with the Emperor who used to frequent the establishment.

Hosted by Chris Pollington

Aperitif

2004 Gris Pinot Grigio, Lis Neris, Fruili

Swordfish carpaccio

2005 Gavi di Gavi, Cru La Maddelana, Roberto Saroot, Piedmont

Risotto with porcini and parmesan shavings

2000 Barbaresco, Cru Serrabolla, Cigliuti, Piedmont

Wild boar stufato with roast plums and creamed mash

1999 Barolo, Cru Monprivato, Castiglioni Falletto, Guiseppi Mascarello, Piedmont
1999 Brunello di Montalcino, Lisini, Tuscany

Parmesan and aged pecorino with figs and mostarda

2000 Mithas, Amarone della Valpolicella, Corte Sant'Alda, Veneto

Zabaglione with spiced winter fruit compote and vanilla shortbread

2004 Moscato d'Asti, Bava, Piedmont

Berry's selected coffee and chocolate

and a taxi home...

The Gavi di Gavi was good so we have ordered a case :-)

Gullible's Travels has moved to http://www.mmenterprises.co.uk/blog/

My blog is now at http://www.mmenterprises.co.uk/blog/

My ISP's webserver has been down for over 10 days now (zoo.co.uk). Not impressive. I am glad I am not a customer running a business website. So I decided enough of using the free webspace that came with my account, after all you get what you pay for. So I moved my domain name to 123-reg.co.uk, bought a hosting package and re-uploaded my files. Well most of them, more to follow, some to reconstruct / recreate and some to edit the blog links for the pictures. Bear with me while I sort out the stragglers. Let's hope for a more stable future.

Now to catch up on the missed blogging...

If you can afford a Maserati

[FLAME ON]
What is wrong with these drivers? Are they brain-dead from the steering wheel up? Yesterday lunchtime I encountered not one, not two but three incidents of thoughtless and illegal driving.

First was the lady in the Mercedes who stopped her car two-thirds of the way over a Zebra crossing (US: crosswalk). I glared and walked round.

Then there was the smartly dressed lady in a silver Maserati dialling a number on her hand-held mobile (US: cell phone*). As a frequent urban cyclist I am particularly sensitive to drivers who are not in full control of their vehicles. Before I could react the lights changed and off she drove phone still in hand.

As luck would have it I met her again several blocks later as she was feeding a parking meter. I introduced myself and in my best über-polite manner pointed out the nature of my concerns, observed that if she could afford a Maserati she could certainly afford a hands-free car kit and suggested she treat herself to one.

Finally there was the Volvo driver who decided that stopping at red lights was optional. I was at a junction, the lights had changed fully to red and as I started to cross this driver, half a block away, decided stopping was not for him. I narrowly missed having my toes run over and I gave the side of his car a good thwack with the flat of my hand as it whistled by.

Mary says I shouldn't do this as some drivers are very protective of their vehicles. If he had stopped to remonstrate with me I would be polite but am quite prepared to engage the 'very loud shouty circuit' if needed and go verbally postal. This is the kind of driving up with which I will not put.
[FLAME OFF]

* I love the Italian use of the diminutive for these: telefonino - little telephone.

Michael McLellan: A Retrospective

Michael McLellan: A Retrospective

  2nd to 20th October 2006  
  at Wolfson College, Linton Road, Oxford, OX2 6UD  
  Open Daily 10am to 4pm subject to College commitments.  
  Visitors are advised to ring the college lodge beforehand +44 1865 274100  

It would help if I had put the details of the exhibition in my previous posts! The reason for calling is that the rooms are also used for meetings and other functions, so to avoid disappointment call first.

Some piccies

Room 1: Pictures 1 to 15


Room 2: Mark thanks Ben (out of shot)


Room 3: Michael explains the imagery


Room 1: Picture 1 - French Street

Michael McLellan Exhibition Private View

Sunday was the private view for the opening of Dad's exhibition at Wolfson College, Oxford and by general agreement a most successful event.

Saturday morning Mary and I drove down to Farnham to fill the boot with paintings then off to Oxford for an 11:00 assembly at the college. Thanks to Dad's preparation in pre-stringing all the paintings the actual hanging went in record time. Each room had one person un-bagging the exhibits, another hanging on the wall and another folding up the bags for later. Others mucked in with general furniture moving and moral support. Then it was back to the hotel for lunch.

That evening we all went en-masse to a cocktail bar to celebrate Tom's 18th birthday (actually on the Sunday). Then off to Pierre Victoire for a family meal, all 15 of us: Mum&Dad, two siblings, their partners, six nephews and one girl-friend. The noise was deafening as we all talked at once and the table next door was even noisier. The resulting escalation of talk volume spiralled out of control and I felt sorry for any other diners hoping for a quiet, romantic meal for two.

After the meal us old-uns and the two youngest nephews went back to the hotel for a night cap and early to bed. The rest went off to Chris's place (he is a student at Oxford Brookes University) to party. A bleary-eyed Lorenzo informed us at breakfast that he left them to it and got back to the hotel at around 3:30am.

The private view was 12-3pm so we all went down to the college at 11:00 to be ready for the first guests who started to arrive pretty promptly. There was a large contingent of old family friends, neighbours and colleagues of Dad's many of whom were also known to us offspring. This made it seem like an episode of "This Is Your Life".

At Ian's suggestion I made a short speech of welcome and I would like to repeat here the thanks I made there:

 • Wolfson college for hosting the exhibition
 • Jan Scrivens (College Secretary) for all her help with the organisation
 • Barbara Harris-White (Professor) for the original suggestion and promoting the idea
 • Ben (Mike) Hutchinson for all his work on the graphics (poster, catalog, postcard)
 • Dad for being a talented artist

About 50 people turned up and it was more like a cheese and wine party than an art show. It was great to catch up with old friends and meet some friends of Dad I had not met before. One thing that struck me (and the others at the hanging) was how colourful the paintings are when seen all together. There were some old favorites of mine and a whole stack I had never seen before that had been lurking up in his workshop (aka spare bedroom).

Dad sold about 8 or 9 pictures and we sold 3 prints. I took a load of photos as did Mary so I plan to post some images over the next few days. We talked, we admired the art, we trod cheese into the carpet then tidied up after the guests had gone home. All in all a most satisfactory day.

See previously:
"Michael McLellan Limited Edition Prints"
"Exhibition Planning"

He looks in my mouth and then he starts to gloat

He says my teeth are OK but my gums got to go. *

Went to Raj on Friday because my teeth were giving me gyp and it looks like I am down for two crowns and an extraction at Harley Street prices. The latter may be years off but the crowns, numbers 12 and 13, are to be done as soon as I get the x-rays taken (see previously "And finally monsieur a wafer-thin mint").

Meanwhile I am on Corsodyl mouthwash, for the gingivitis. Corsodyl is one of the viler tastes on the planet and wreaks havoc with the taste buds. My tongue feels like it has been lightly sand-papered. I can forget about drinking fine wines until I am off the stuff as everything has hints of sand and glue.

* Unfinished Sweet by Alice Cooper

Life as a soap character

Watching soaps on the telly drives me mental even though I tell myself "It isn't real, they are only actors". The characters on EastEnders are textbook examples of dysfunctional behaviour. If you want to live your lives like them here are a few simple rules for dishonest communication:

Is anything wrong? When asked this reply, "No, I'm fine" in a very unconvincing, flat tone of voice.
Is everything OK? When asked this reply, "Yes, great" in a very unconvincing, flat tone of voice.
Be oblivious to tone. Ignore all body language, intonation and facial expression that might indicate unhappiness, distress or concern.
Never question or challenge. Take an unconvincing answer at face value. Do not ask "Are you sure?" Do not seek explanations. Do not ask why someone behaved as they did.
Talk with a sarcastic tone. Ensure that you are sarcastic as much as possible. Snide is good.
Do not acknowledge apologies. When on the receiving end of an apology respond grumpily by repeating the original complaint. When making the apology immediately respond to the rebuff by abandoning any attempt at reconcilation and have a heated exchange.
Always interrupt. Do not allow the other people to complete their exposition.
I've got something to tell you. When you hear this do not listen attentively, instead interrupt with some piece of trivia, preferably one that "pulls the rug from under" the other's news.
Assume the worst. If you see or overhear something put the worst possible interpretation on people's motivations.
Believe malicious gossip. On hearing an unpleasant report or unkind hearsay about a friend or loved one assume it is true.
Organise surprises. Do not consider the plans, wishes, aspirations and likely response of the 'surprisee'.

If no specfic rules apply to a particular situation apply these two basic principles:

 • Deny the truth
 • Never establish the facts

KGS Class of 71 Reunion (24 September 2006)

At the "New Varsity" pub just outside the Warwick University Campus on the Gibbet Hill Road (post code CV4 7AJ), 12:00 - 16:00.

Present:
Bill Nealon
Craig Horner
Christine Horner (nee Hills)
David Botterill
Deborah Collett
Diana Jones (nee Gibson)
Dilys Shepherd (nee Crumpton)
Lesley Moseley (nee Fletcher)
Mark McLellan
Martin Haswell
Mary Plimmer (nee Cameron)
Michael Todd
Nigel Mykura
Ross Beadle
Sue Mykura (nee Lamb)


KGS main building


KGS entrance


Dilys


Nigel, Sue


Diana, Nigel, Sue


Mick, Deborah, Diana, Lesley, Martin, Ross


Nigel, Christine, Craig, Sue


Nigel, Lesley, Christine

See also Reunion 2001 photos http://www.mmenterprises.co.uk/kgs/photo3.htm

Pre-Op Questionnaire

Dad and I have both had hernia repairs. His was within the lifetime of this blog but I spared the world that particular news item. As Dad said - tongue in cheek - "Now we have something in common". Of course he pointed out in a spirit of one-upmanship that *his* was a double hernia.

When I came to fill in the pre-op questionnaire I put my religion as "Jedi" (see "In the UK 390,000 Jedis there are"). Unfortunately the drop-down list in the system did not include that selection so I had to go down as "Other" presumably along with Druids, White witches and Fans of Paris Hilton.

When Dad completed his form and got to the question on existing medication he had to wrote "None". He isn't being prescribed anything at all whilst many of his contemporaries rattle like castanets (or is it maracas?). Considering he was 79 at the time he is pretty d**n healthy. I only hope I inherit his constitution along with his hernia!

Quince Cheese

There is a box of UHT milk portions in our office kitchen bearing the legend "Allergy advice: contains milk". I should hope so too! I suppose they have to be explicit lest some idiot thinks that cocoa butter or quince cheese contain joos o' the coo.

On Saturday we were down at the cottage and harvested about six kilo (13 lb) of quince and half a wheelbarrow of Bramley apples. On Sunday, while I was at a KGS reunion, Mary was at home making Quince cheese. For the first tranche she followed a recipe from The Silver Spoon.

This classic Italian cookbook is the culinary bible in most Italian homes and is a popular wedding gift. Presumably from the MIL so that her darling son does not starve to death at the hands of DIL. When it came out in English Mary asked me to buy her a present of the original Italian version the better to improve her Italian.


Quince Cheese and Quince Jelly

Halfway through the first batch she realised that it was in fact a recipe for quince Jelly so she completed that and switched to the River Cafe Cook Book for the second batch. The jelly is a beautiful golden orange colour; I had some on my toast this morning and it was delicious.

Birthday celebrations

Yesterday was my 54th birthday so Mary and I went for a very tasty meal at Alistair Little's Restaurant in Frith Street then toddled two doors along to Ronnie Scott's where we saw Ambulance, featuring Eddie Henderson, while we supped our way through a bottle of Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque. A very pleasant way to celebrate.

The bedroom that fell down

Our bedroom is in the trulli that fell down (see "It fell down..."). Previously the cone was "blind". We took the opportunity to rebuild it with a window, albeit a small one, to be in keeping with the rest of the property. Given that wall is over three foot thick (1.20 meter to be exact) it is more like looking out of a square porthole.


Mark and Mary's bedroom in the Lamia House

The door between it and the front cone is small and arched so Daniele designed a two part door. The panels are glass so our friend Lynn made curtains for us for all of the lamia doors.


Door between back bedroom and front sitting room

Since our last visit some wild beast (well I am assuming a local dog) ran all over the nice, white pizza oven roof with muddy paws, then up the stairs to the roof of the Lamia, peered over one parapet, trotted over to the other side, peered over that, repeated for a third side and then off again.


Paw prints on the Pizza oven roof

Purple like an aubergine

Or eggplant as Americans call it (though any resemblance to an egg is pretty farfetched to my eye).

My natural decorum and good taste *cough* plus the fact that Mary checks this blog regularly for egregious errors of fact means that I have not been able to document my post-operative condition as luridly as I might have otherwise have wished. The safest thing is quote from the informative leaflet the hospital gave me.

"Risks. For a hernia repair these include: bruising - there is a risk of bruising around the operation site. But some patients may develop quite dramatic bruising and swelling, which in men can extend to ... [Ed. That quite enough thank you!]"

On the Friday before we left for Italy I went back to the nurse who did a conjuring trick and proceeded to pull a foot long piece of what looked like fishing line out of my groin. A most odd sensation. It appears that dissolving stitches are for the inner layers only. She pronounced the scar as healing nicely and off I went with a packet of anti-inflammatory Nurofen.

Two weeks of relaxation in Italy means I am well on the way to full recovery although the residual tenderness may mean that an exhibition of Russian Cossack dancing may yet be some way off.

Metre out of order

So said the scrap of cardboard on Waterloo Bridge. Presumably written by a motorist about a parking meter to deflect the wrath of a traffic warden. Unless of course they really were complaining about some poetic dysfunction. "Officer this verse just won't scan. Its iambic pentameter is all bent out of shape."

Lamia House so nearly finished

We always had it in mind that the Trulli House would be for renting out and the Lamia House would be ours to live in. The Trulli House has been habitable since last Septmber (see "Puglian Diary") but the Lamia House has been lagging behind. Now we are well and truly moved in.

We arrived Saturday and on the Sunday moved our bed from one house to the other and so spent our first night in the "new" house. Over the course of the following two weeks we took delivery of another bed to replace the one we moved, a dining table and chairs, a day bed (with truckle bed beneath) and a blanket box.


[click image for larger version]

The big excitement was the joiners finally fitting the kitchen cupboards they were due to install back in June/July. A few hiccups like the door for the fitted fridge was a single piece but we have a fridge/freezer. An animated discussion between architect and joiner ensued; the door went away and a two separate doors returned.


[click image for larger version]

The hot water system was playing up so our guests had a number of cold showers but by the time we left, and after numerous visits from Ignazio the engineer, we seem to have it fixed. Now we are down to a final snagging list (US: punch list) to make the whole thing complete.

Off to Puglia for two weeks

We fly out tomorrow, back on the 16th September. So this will probably be my last post until we return. This time we have persuaded our friends Bob&Lynn to join us for a week and our friend Andrea for about five days. I am looking forward to showing them round and introducing them to our favourite restaurants and local wines. Until then.

Toodle-pip old beans!

PS.
Just checked out the weather forcast for Cisternino and it is 29°C and sunny all the way. Cue song... "The sun has got his hat on. Hip, hip, hip, hooray"

Bourdeaux 2005 En Primeur

On Tuesday evening we went to a BBR En Primeur tasting and tried 49 out of the 74 wines on show. Mostly the wines were presented in pairs, the 2005 en primeur and a recent vintage (pretty evenly spread over the 2001 through to 2004 vintages).

Interesting to compare the wine in its "raw" state with an officially released bottle. Trying to image how the 2005 will evolve is beyond my palette even with the recent vintage to contrast with. So I took it more in the educational sense of tasting wines I would never otherwise buy nor get to taste including a number of classed growths.

We got chatting to Max the saleman account manager who keeps sending Mary wicked, tempting emails of wines to buy. And so often she succumbs but, it has to be said, to my benefit as well. "Who *are* all these people?" I wanted to know. Many of them looked like old money, city types: merchant bankers, brokers, barristers, and such like in the uniform of pinstripe suit. Plus a few who looked like landed gentry. And a few normals like us.

He did reveal that those present were all invited, account holders only. Some like us spend a few thousand pounds a year, some spend up to 15 million! Too late for a career switch methinks?