The Card Trick

Sincere Apologies for the tardy attitude toward my blog.... I'll do my best to change!

So much (really) has happened I don't know where to start so, a good thing to do would be to recount the happenings of this day.

It started when I got up out of bed.... should be a painless experience in itself but, well let's just say - it hurt, big time. Mainly because I was trying to 'slide' out carefully, only I didn't realise I was quite as close to edge of the bed as I was so, gravity took over earlier than anticipated. That caused me to scrape my left, outer thigh on the metal bed frame. Now, to save you the agony of doing this to see just how painful this can be, just take my word for it - it is excrutiatingly painful and debilitating. Don't, repeat don't do it!

If that wasn't enough imagine, if you will, the verbalising that is attendant with a situation such as I've described.

Marianne: "What have you done? What's happened?"

If I could've talked and responded sensibly instead of shouting stuff at the top of my voice I might have received the solace that was due me. Rather, I just became the recipient of yet more questions in Marianne's vain attempt to ascertain my condition. That condition was dire..... hobbling around the bedroom with a dead-leg (Charlie Horse I believe it is over the pond) was the only way I could transport myself.

Marianne: "That's a relief, I thought you had broken your leg!"

Visual and tactile investigation (I liked that bit) revelaed a lump the size of the bowl of a teaspoon which was surplanted atop another longish lump (3 inches x 1 inch). I've yet to check the colour of it but can only imagine Technicolor would like it for a test chart!

Moving on...... Shower? uneventful. Breakfast? uneventful. So, we discuss what we should do today. Marianne said there is a load of 'decluttering' to take place. I agree. Two lives of our ages coming together brings with it all matter of things - so much of it lost in the mists of time and is useless to us now..... to be rid of it will be a good thing.

I returned from band practice after dumping the first of the rubbish. It's at this point I think it would be a good idea for us to enjoy a meal together in a country pub.

On our travels to the place I was intending to go, Marianne suggested a little restaurant, The Windmill, just outside of Somersham. Thoroughly enjoyable meal and we shall return - if they will have us!

Just after I requested the bill I told Marianne I needed the little boys' room and gave her my bank card, just in case the waitress returned whilst I was otherwise engaged. I returned and she gave back my card. The bill (check - US) duly arrived, courtesy of the waitress along with some lovely mints. We were sat at a window table and the sun started to shine so we carried on chatting a bit (about 10 minutes).

Marianne: "Are you going to pay so we get home and finish what we were doing?"
"Ok, did you give me my card back? I can't find it"
"Yes, I did. You had it in your hand".
"I thought you had. Trouble is I can't find it anywhere".

I stood up, went through my wallet. Then I went through all my pockets. Then I searched the floor. Followed by looking down the crease/edge at the back of the chair. Marianne looked in her handbag. For good measure, I stood up and performed the same procedure as before in the hope I'd missed a pocket. No - nothing, zilch, nada! All my other cards, a few receipts and a book of postage stamps, but no bank card.

Marianne: "This is ridiculous, I gave it back to you, I'm sure I did".
"I know you did honey. I'm remember fiddling with it whilst we were nattering. Where is it now though?"
"Stand up again and go through your pockets and things."
"I'm not getting up again. People will think I've got St. Vitus dance."
"Stand up and let me search you."

So, there I was, stood in the restaurant being body searched (I liked that bit) in an attempt to locate the itinerant bank card. No. Still not anywhere to be seen.

You can imagine at this time we were becoming something of a spectacle. The staff asked us if there was a problem.

Me: "Don't worry, I can pay but I've lost my card. Any chance it got taken away when you cleared the table?"

The short answer to that was the staff hadn't seen it either. So, I paid with another card and they took our telephone number in case it turns up. I need to phone the bank now in case it's been stolen (there was a large group of people around our table whilst I was performing my stand up, sit down routine) I need to put a stop on the card.

We return to the car totally perplexed. Where has it gone? Was it really stolen? Never mind. Too late now, must call the bank.

I eventually got to talk to a human being after engaging in a monosyllabic conversation with a couple of computers and was given the opportunity to discuss my plight.

Bank: "What have you lost sir?"
"My bank card and my sanity. It's disappearance only happened 5 mins ago but I/we can't find it anywhere."
"Never mind sir. I've put a stop against the card and issued a request for you to receive a new one."

So, completely flat we continue on home, safe in the knowledge my bank funds are safe. But I kept wondering where on this planet could it have disapperared to.

Marianne: "It's not under your collar is it?"
"Don't laugh at me but I've just felt around my collar and it's not there!"

I really did actually look and I can't believe I even entertained the concept that it might be locked under my collar. That lady knows me too well!

Marianne: "How about up your sleeve?"
"Oh yeah. There it is. Well I never. How did it get there?"
"I saw you fiddling with it but didn't fully see you perform your conjuring trick. Because we were chatting I never gave too much consideration to what you were actually doing."
"Do you know, I vaguely recollect placing it up my sleeve thinking I could easily forget I'm doing this. I was so engrossed in our conversation I completely forgot all about it. Do you know what Marie.....? It's all coming back to me now. Yes, I did put it up my sleeve. Oh dear, what am I like?"

We laughed and we laughed. Then we laughed some more. Did I mention we laughed?

What a day!

Razmabaz goes Green

And he's hoping that there will happen to be more red!




When we moved to this lovely house we inherited a green house. Never had one of these before and, to be honest, had no great interest in gardening. That may have been due, in part, to all previous gardening projects taking "Capability Brown" sized operations. Quite a daunting task to say the least!

Well, that was before a particular lady came on the scene who seems to be able to inspire and encourage without you being fully aware of what's going on. (Just for the record, how many of you are now knitting, spinning, batting [there has to be a proper term for this], dyeing, sewing, crocheting or even weaving when you didn't think you ever would?) This is how I found myself buying seeds and a bag of compost.

That was back in late March (I now know I should've started sooner). Armed with all the paraphenalia of an ardent horticulturalist I proceeded to the inner sanctum of the mighty greenhouse. Actually, it's only 8' x 6' but it seems huge when you don't know what you're doing! I placed out all my seed trays and set about planting the tiniest of seeds (excluding beans - they're so big it seems like cheating!). How much is left to chance and nature is amazing. It never ceases to amaze me how it all happens. (Eternal thanks to Suttons Seeds ;-) )

Things eventually happened, and all at different rates. Some shot up in no time, others decided to bury themselves in the general fug of laziness that seems to be known as "germination". Some never made it all.... investigation is called for here. Although, if the little blighters didn't want to show their faces then that's fine by me! We didn't want any Busy Lizzies anyway. I've since found they are notoriously difficult to cultivate from seed.

Reality check. I was driving to work about 3 weeks later and watched Spring 'take hold' of the countryside. All this germination with no human intervention - I wasn't so clever after all!



So, successes? I can report tomatoes are rampant. Petunias (they really are the tiniest of seeds) are making a bid to take over the world. Coryopsis are very pretty. Tagetes have the smelliest leaves (nice pong) going. Beetroot take longer than Mr. Sutton says - but who cares. (Incidentally, did you know you can take the beetroot stem and leaves, cook to eat as spinach?) Chillis grow like mad once the flower is pollinated. Runner beans seem to be incredibly popular and go on producing fruit like there's no tomorrow. Radishes were ok but neither of us like them that much :-( Strawberries were delicious. Working up on how to take the runners and grow even more. Abutilon is a tricky plant that really doesn't like the direct sunlight.







Were there any failures? Yes - but not total. Marianne gave me some seeds and said "You can grow me some natural dyes." Coryopsis was the only one that worked but I think we'd need an acre of them to turn a fleece yellow. Safflower and indigo only just about made it but the safflowers got savaged by an errant dog! Don't ask. - I just hope it turned orange :-p

So, all in all, I have to report as resounding success....... all I need now is the stuff that is supposed to be red to change from that green colour which kids hate. There is an irony here that I'm not about to divulge!

Picnic in the Park ~ A Musical Interlude

(All photos courtesy of Marianne Cant)

Well, thanks to my beautiful wife I'm reminded I've neglected this blog for far too long - it needs an update.

In a previous, previous life and a long time ago, I played the trumpet. I like to think I was quite good but I was young, youthful and energetic and full of things around me. Really, I took my music very seriously until life happened. I played in the Isle of Wight Symphony Orchestra, Isle of Youth Orhestra, Bembridge Young Community Band and a few other things. Life was full of music!

As I said, then 'life' happened. 37 years later I remarry and I promised to my (then) wife to be, Marianne, I will play my trumpet for her at our wedding. She had never, ever heard me play and I thought it was about time she did!

A long story shortened - 6 weeks before the wedding I reckoned I ought to at least practice something. I did ~ can you believe how rusty a musician gets after a 37 year lay-off?

Anyway, it happened. Marianne was swept off her feet in a romantic trumpet blast - "The way you look tonight" is an amazing piece to woo your wife!

Move on a year and I'm having a terrible job stifling the urge to play again with a group of musicians and let's face it - a trumpet's ok but, solo all the time is a bit much for any audience no matter how much they tell you they love you!

A colleague at work told me about a Music School in Huntingdon HuMSA and that I should look them up. I did and I was amazed at what was on offer. Saturday I get the opportunity to play in a number of groups - from a Brass Ensemble to a Swing (Big) Band. The big draw back is I'm away from home for quite a lot of Saturday mornings, they follow the school term times so there are some holidays. Thank you Honey, I know how difficult it is for you. Wish they did knitting groups there on Saturday mornings ;^) How about learning the harp, it's only strumming vertical skeins?

It seems Brass players are in short supply - so, within a few weeks (3 to be precise) I was asked to play in a concert. Nerve wracking to say the least, but it is enjoyable. Well, it was for me - at least, I don't know what we sound like. I do actually and Marianne recorded on her phone a couple of pieces we played at a summer concert in Godmanchester - Picnic in the Park. The quality is not that good as it was an unbalanced PA system around she was surrounded by partying kids! It gives some idea of what we sound like. It's a shame Marianne couldn't get some of our more melodic pieces but maybe we'll find a better way of recording them.

Extracts from "Have you met Miss Jones?" sung by our new male vocalist Chris Cook and "Woodchoppers Ball".

Me- second from the right, Lewis on the right with Tony, to my left (can you believe he is 82?)

Must tell you this:

At my first concert with him another young lad was sat next to Tony, the lad asked who he was waving to in the audience, he replied, "My father!". I really did laugh

A New Year!

After a restful holiday - well, as much as a houseful of 11 people is restful - I moved quietly into 2009.

It had to be quiet because the 5th of January saw me going into hospital for some elective surgery - repair some damage that lifting a suitcase off of an airport baggage carousel. Nothing too serious, but something that needed doing.

So, with the Winter blues well under way, an operation, 3 weeks off work with restricted movement and no driving, I was not really looking forward to the next few weeks. I wish I could say I rose above it all, but in all honesty I didn't make too good a job of it - even though I had the best nurse life could offer. She was (as ever) FANTASTIC! Thank you, sweetheart.

The other thing that has bugged me lately is my lack of desire for taking/creating any photographs. It's happened in the past but NOW, this time, I needed a pick me up.

The snow came, it went again. No attempt to take a photo... this is not me. Saturday, I had to put some things in the garage and take some stuff out for sorting. Alongside the path Marianne had placed a tub with some bulbs in (I believe Mavis planted them when she stayed with us). I was worried about them because of the cold and the snow. I spotted a couple of pink flowers struggling to find light, poking their daring little heads bravely out through the snow, out into the sunshine. I have to admit I rushed in for the camera..... not totally inspired, but I was moved to take these photos.

Coconut Ice!

What have I been doing?

Wah.... can't believe it's around July since I last blogged.... sorry (hangs head in abject remorse).

So, what's happened to my life then? Ummmm.... moved, got older, got wiser!

The bliss of our marriage is as special as ever. So happy!

Photographed a few weddings, attended our first wedding fair (as exhibitors), went to France, moved house, did Battle with BT (don’t know who won though?)..... loads of things in fact. 

So, where to start? How about our trip to France? That was interesting.....

It was a spur of the moment thing - we needed a break, especially as we had Maisie with us for the school holidays and she enjoys our trips away. We wanted to go to Normandy but because of the school holidays accommodation and Channel crossings were at a premium. Marianne found some places but I hit an odd "button" on the browser to the page she'd sent me.  A chance to use my favourite, English word ~ 'serendipity'.

By accident I'd found a delightful early 19th century Normandy mill! The information said it was in an isolated location... this proved to be a masterful understatement.  More later! So we signed up and paid up..... the next day we received confirmation of our bookings - or at least, the bits that were available. It seems we couldn't get on the Ferries from Portsmouth to any of the Normandy ports. The company we'd  chosen were brilliant. They suggested changing to Dover and staying in stopover hotels from Calais. It actually worked cheaper than the supplements for the Brittany Ferry crossings... a very favourable result as it gave us a chance to drive leisurely both sides of the Channel.

Come the glorious day of travel. Leave Cambridgeshire at a sensible time to arrive in Dover at 12:00 for a 13:30 crossing - this is how a holiday should start. Indeed, we did arrive at 11:45.... super!

We go through all the various controls, emigration, security, ticket office. In  fact, at the ticket office I was greeted with, "Hello, Mr. Razmabaz, good journey?"  The smiley side of Technology. "Please drive to Lane 183."

Thinking about it, the security check was somewhat strange - at least I thought it was. "Did you pack your bags yourself?" "Are you carrying anything for somebody else?" Nothing unusual these days, especially if you're travelling abroad. But, at a Ferry Terminal the next question challenged my intellect. "Do I have anything sharp? Like a knife or something?" I immediately thought of the campers and caravans surrounding us. Do they all use plastic cutlery? Am I going to run amok on a Monster car ferry with a sharp implement? Most odd!

Anyway, I digress. On to lane 183 where we stop and decide we have time for a coffee and such. An announcement summons us to our vehicle. So, we proceed excitedly to our car. The car in front starts off. I start the engine... but ... it only spins over, it didn't start. We'd just done 180 miles or so without a hitch and now the car  

doesn't want to leave England's green and pleasant land!

Many people come to offer assistance, for which we were extremely grateful but nothing was going to cause the engine to spin continuously without electricity and the starter motor. One guy even suggested that the vehicle had immobilised itself (no argument there - it had!) and that the system may need re-arming. So I go through a logical (to me) procedure which should've reset the alarm system. No happy result! Time ticks by....  

we were to miss our ferry. P & O were helpful. We have some jump leads and we'll put you on the next crossing. Very kind of them but the battery wasn't the problem.

Time to invoke the Landrover Assistance scheme. 'We'll get you going where ever you are'..... we'll see.

Phone is answered promptly and courteously. "Ok, no problem. We'll get you on your holiday. Whereabouts are you exactly?"

Now, exactly is a thing I could do.... we have Sat Nav! "Hang on a moment, I'll get you the exact co-ordinates". (Remember "where ever you are means a great deal in Landrover off-road terms and they mean it - seriously). 

"Are you sure of those co-ordinates?" Quick check. "Yep, why?" "Well Mr. Razmabaz, that puts you in the sea according to our map!" I guess Lane 183 extends over the sea onto the Ferry ramp.... so I have to explain in more detail.

"We'll get our Engineer to call you". "Ok, I'll check with P & O what we can do. Thank you".

Speaking to P & O they suggest that the Landrover engineer will need a passport to get onto Lane 183. So, when I get the next call I explain the need for some serious photo identity. "No problem. I've been there before. You're not the first to break down after customs etc." I wasn't going to argue, after all he'd done it all before!

During the same call he managed to diagnose the problem and was certain it was the fuel pump that had failed. This quite an experience for Marianne as I was instructed to perform some tests, most of which didn't help get the engine started. "Thump the  car floor from underneath just in front of the off-side rear wheel" I did and the  

car started..... result. Just the need the pump and have it fitted. Marianne's face was a picture.

"Don't worry. I'll get one and be with you in a couple of hours".

I moved the car away from lane 183 to a more convenient position where we can fix it safely. We wait. We get thirsty. We need the 'facilities'.

As we returned to the car Marianne said, "That doesn't half look like the back of a Hairy Biker". Hmmmm. Too much sun and in a state of distress - we both dismissed it.  We wait some more. I get bored so start to explore with the camera. 

"Do you know what Marianne? That is a Hairy Biker". It's quite a favourite TV series of ours. Hairy Bikers

More waiting..... "Hello, Mr. Razmabaz?" "Yes?". "I can't get into the docks. Can you get out?" "More than likely but, how do I get back in?"

A long story cut short (honestly) we have to go through, in the opposite direction, all the security things we'd done hours before. "That was a short holiday Mr. Razmabaz". "Don't even think about saying anything else", I muttered to myself.

The Engineer apologised about not being able to enter the docks, but it was fortunate that the well aimed blow to the car floor motivated the fuel pump to perform enough to get us out of the docks. I think we'd still be there now if it didn't.

After a successful repair we went through all the security checks and ticket procedure. 

"Can you go to Lane 208 please?"

"Yes, I can", I'd grown to really dislike Lane 183!

More of the English....

This country has so many traditions it is difficult to keep up with them all. This one is wrapped in so much history and goes back so far it's a job to know where it's roots really lie.

The Green Man. Definitely connected with ancient fertility celebrations but also has connections to forms of Thanksgiving. Whatever the actual case it must be said lots of people enjoyed themselves at the Festival in Pilton, Barnstaple this weekend. Marianne mentioned I would post a photo blog of the events, so .....

Here are just a few..... I'll post some more when I get a bit more time. Including some of Ali and her family.

This menacing 'man' carried a horn at the front of the procession, blowing it as the occasion warranted it. He seemed to perform 'warding off' dance as the proceedings got under way.

This 'man' was actuually walking around on stilts (as you can see in a further shot). You can't see the stilts and I can't imagine he was that tall :^). This is probably my favourite shot of the whole drama - he shows so much passion!

Don't know what these two heads are but they are about 1 metre across (3 feet approx.)


On the left is the tall, stilted 'man' and on the right you can see the 'warding off' dance.


One of the 'legs' of the caterpillar shown below.....

The caterpillar......


The face of the caterpillar!

The British.....

.... there is nothing quite like us Britons! Name the quaint, the unusual or the ridiculous - they're all tied up in that which is called the British Way of Life.

We have football matches which involve whole Villages or Towns kicking a pig's bladder from a pub at one end of the town to the other end (uppers and downers). There is a most famous version which is found at Ashbourn in Derbyshire. Well dressing is another tradition. Dyke vaulting (admittedly it originates in Holland)..... you name it, we have it.

Now in it's 38th year we have, near us at Witcham, a Pea Shooter Championship. Not just any old Championship you understand, but The World Championship.

I took some time out this weekend to visit it - I couldn't spend too long there, unfortunately, as I was 'on-call' and shouldn't be too long away from phone etc,. So, I never managed to get to see the Final.

Do people take this seriously? You bet! One guy had laser guided, telescopic sights set up on his. See the pictures below. There was an element of fun. Next year more time shall be spent here!