Lexin

I am home, having successfully negotiated cancelled trains and extremely hot weather and sailed very close to a hypoglycaemic episode out in public, which would have seen me sent to hospital in a strange town and told off by strange doctors.

I was saved from myself by an excellent woman at Chester, who knew exactly what to do - have me sit in a cool room, and give me water and something sweet to eat. Then she saw me safely on the Bangor train, and phoned ahead so that the staff at Bangor would be expecting me.

Smokey was thrilled to see me home, her little tail quivering with joy. Now she’s had treats and cuddles, of course, I’m surplus to kitty requirements.

The reason I was there

The memorial for legionseagle went off very well, and saw many of the crabbyoldbats, people having come from as far away as France shezan and the Netherlands to celebrate a life well lived, but ended far, far too soon.

I didn't say anything - there were some lovely speeches from people from all aspects of legionseagle's life including her colleagues and her sailing friends. I just didn't trust myself not to weep copiously. I did enough of that at other people's speeches.

The night before the memorial I had the most glorious dream that she was alive again and it had all been a mistake. Never have I been so sad to wake up and find a dream not to be true.

I will miss her forever. She was one of the best.

(Whey I say 'this morning' I mean yesterday, Thursday. I wrote this then sent it to myself for posting, then forgot about it.)

You know what’s annoying? When someone who’s paid to help tells blatant lies.

OK. I went out last night – to church, which anyone who knows me will find somewhat perplexing – and when I left I was nicely calm and centred. On the way home, however, I became aware that I had the worst headweasels for a long time – I was convinced that Smokey would be dead when I got home. No idea where that came from, except that I’d become overtired by spending a day at work, then going for drinks (involving walking to the pub) then going to church (involving walking to the church) then going home on the tube (involving walking to Westminster tube). By the time I got home I was totally exhausted. So, headweasels.

And my feet were killing me. There was much pain; my plantar fasciitis is still causing me grief.

She wasn’t dead. In fact she was better than she’s been for quite a few days, and even had some kittenish playtime, which she hasn’t wanted for days. She was much improved, really, and ate her tea with gusto. I checked her litterbox and that was well used so that’s improved too. (I know, TMI about the cat’s litterbox.)

So this morning I get up, get ready to go to work, knowing that it’s going to be hard on my feet. And what happens? Signal failure at Tower Hill. The District and Circle line is not running clockwise. I get to Liverpool Street (I would normally change at Mile End) and it’s still b0rked and the anti-clockwise District and Circle line is rammed with folk. So I think, OK, I’ll get the number 11 bus which goes down Ludgate Hill and along Fleet Street, Strand and Whitehall.

I go out into Liverpool Street station and ask at the “Information” booth where the number 11 bus goes from (because its normal stop is shut due to building work) and am clearly told that its normal stop is operating again. But they lie. It’s not.

Thus I have to look at TFL’s (incorrect) map and find the number 11 stop, which turns out to be stop “U” on London Wall, next to what they describe as Broad Street, but is actually called Old Broad Street. These minor points can make a big difference in London.

I walk, with my painful feet, to London Wall, and eventually catch the number 11 bus to work. It takes ages, but is scenic.

So far, that’s been the highlight of my day. Well, Smokey being better is really the highlight of my day.

MPREG follows me around

I was sitting in a cafe having brunch when a comparative silence fell, and just as it did so a woman sitting on the next table says, "I think he's pregnant!" into the lull.

Just thought I'd share that with you. I have no idea what she meant, the rest of their conversation was drowned out by that of other diners.

Well, I’m back from Wales, unharmed and unmelted from the rain. I actually only got rained on twice, and as the college had helpfully put us next to the coffee bar where we play our games, not for long on either occasion. So that was good.

I had a wonderful time on Friday and Saturday, and a slightly boring one on Sunday.

Friday we played TSR Battle System, a very strange system which involves moving bits of card about and rolling dice. The bits of card do represent something, but it’s hard to explain. For once, I was on the winning side as the ‘good’ side, played by G, decided to quit the field of battle partway through, discretion being the better part of valour and all that.

That didn’t take as long as it might have done – or has done in the past – so we moved on then to P’s AD&D campaign where we’re all “Saxons”. It’s a world he’s written himself, with approximately Saxon technology and attitudes. I think we haven’t yet got to grips properly with this as the background is very detailed, and we’ve all begged P for a ‘who’s who’ of the participants as it’s hard to keep track of when they’re all called things like Leofgar and Tirweald, Aethelred and Egwin.

Saturday I ran a Call of Cthulhu game. Not my campaign which I’m running for them outwith the Heromeet, but a second one for Heromeet alone. It’s a bought campaign, Fungi From Yuggoth. They didn’t get through as much of it as I’d hoped, but that does mean that I’m prepared for Heromeet CofC for the next two years at least.

Sunday was a bit dull as I couldn’t get into a game. All I did all day was play one round of a board game called Trans Europa, which was loosely about trains. That was enjoyable, but it should be easier to get in on something than it is. Asking about just didn’t work and it doesn’t help that I confuse people and ask the same person several times.

In future, I shall take along a second, probably AD&D, scenario and see if I can't scare up players of my own.

Travel was fine – trains up and back were on time and not to crowded. Pendolinos don’t smell any better, though.

Still looking

I’m still looking for a couple of players for my Call of Cthulhu games that I play at my place. Any takers welcome – must be willing to get to east London.

And now for some photos…( click here for photos of Beaumaris castle and a duck )

London is a frustrating place to be right now. I met some friends for dinner and a catch-up yesterday and found that just getting from my workplace to the place we were meeting (three streets away) was an exercise in itself.

Firstly, all the buses running down Victoria Street and up Whitehall were delayed by who-knows-what event at Trafalgar Square, and then when I got off the bus in Whitehall I discovered that the reason the driver had let me off in the middle of the street rather than at a stop was because the bus stop I wanted was closed for the Olympics.

So was the crossing where I wanted to cross the road to the pub.* So I had to dodge between the traffic to get to the side of the road I needed, and if you know me, given my speed and level of surety of foot, 'dodging' isn't something I'm all that good at. Years ago, when I was a young, slimmer civil servant who didn't have knackered knees, I could dodge. Now, not so much.

Then when I came out of the pub later I noticed that sections of the road are blocked off so that people needing to use the bus have to walk out across the road to get on. Not what I'd prefer, frankly.

Luckily, I should be avoiding most of this, because I've arranged to work from home during much of the Olympics, only coming in to the office once a week. It does mean that any union related meetings will have to take place during the little time I'm physically in the Dull Grey Tower, but I hope that should be enough time. The rest I'll have to do by phone.

I wish everybody taking part in the Olympics well, I hope it keeps fine for them and I hope everyone who finds that sort of thing enjoyable enjoys it. But I wish it was happening somewhere else.



* Or rather, newly gentrified gastro-pub. The food is very good, don't get me wrong, but the prices are twice what they used to be when it was a dark and poky hole.


ETA: Scotland has announced that they're bringing in gay marriage in the face of whipped up objections from the usual suspects. Well done, Scotland.

I was attending a meeting, called in December when obviously they didn't know that northern Britain was going to resemble Canada.

I had an exciting journey up, in which a passing train broke a window in our train and showered everyone in the carriage with glass and snow. This meant that our train was delayed as they obviously then had to go slowly. (This is the third time I've been on trains where windows have broken for one reason or another, and people wonder why I don't like to sit in the window seat.) It didn't get really snowy until north of Peterborough - the Arctic conditions around Doncaster came as something of a surprise, though possibly wouldn't have if I'd paid more attention to the news.

I arrived in Leeds, late, to discover that the meeting was called off. D'oh. The only two people who'd turned up were myself and another colleague who'd come from Inverness - he said the snow got really bad around Aviemore. Everyone else cried off, even the people who work in Leeds - proving that they had more sense than we did.

I ate a baguette in an accusing way, (bacon and brie if you were wondering), commiserated with my Scottish colleague, turned around and went back to Leeds station.

This is where I stood for two hours, in the freezing cold, while they cancelled trains to London. At last about three trains worth of people piled on to the one train which was going to run, and sat back in the relatively warm. That train crawled back to London, allowing us plenty of time to admire the pretty snow around Doncaster and Wakefield.

Now I've had tea and a delivery Chinese meal I'm feeling a bit more human.