Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Wetherspoons
I was perhaps a little harsh yesterday. In Wetherspoons pub no 17 (at least it is said to be among the first twenty that he opened) in Tooting yesterday and that one at least does have a reasonably local feel to it. The staff know their customers, among whom there are a fair number of regulars. The back room which serves as a cellar contains a Belfast sink and a small ancient safe, both of which looked as if they predated the building's days as a pub. The place has a bit of charectar. I have had a bad pint there once. On the other hand, I have been near the average age of the clientele for the whole of the twenty years or so that I have been using the place - which is to say that the younger contingent has mostly moved on. Don't know where to. Still, overall, not a bad place at all. Not like a hotel bar at all.
So took on sufficient refreshment to have further thoughts about jigsaws. I shall write to the BBB recommending that they make arty jigsaws compulsory for all the squillions of art students that we have these days. Make them do a 1,000 peice jigsaw of a famous picture so that they get to know the picture in an intimate way and then take them to see the real thing. The idea being that being stuck with a jigsaw for hours would make them actually look at the picture - something they propably don't bother with presently. Once a week for the duration of their first year. I think they would learn a lot. Maybe the talented ones would then grow up to be artists rather than show-offs who think that chucking wet compost at wet plaster is interesting, meritorious and deserving of substantial payment. In the meantime, perhaps it is just as well that most of them wind up flipping burgers when they graduate after their three years education.
Considering taking my own medicine and popping over to the Louvre. Have to see what the BH has to say about that.
Next item is Mr Oliver. I am not very keen on television chefs at the best of times but I think this one gets the prize for irritating me the most. But sorry to see that he has joined the celebrity emetic club founded by Viscount Gelfdorf and is going on about chickens (having sorted out our school dinners). The man must be quite rich so why can't he just retire to the country, take up growing pumpkins or marrows (or both) and get out of our newspapers? Follow the good example set in that regard by the late George Harrison.
Resumed my own gardening activities and now about half way through a short third potato trench. Must put plenty of leaf mould in it as the soil is very thin - maybe as little as six inches. Must get on as it will soon be time to plant the broad beans which I have not yet even ordered.
On the livestock front, the moles have been busy and are now on-allotment again. The deer seem to be leaving the perpetual beet alone for the moment but have been munching at my prize dandelions - that is to say the ones that came up by themselves behind the compost heap - rather than the ones I moved to a special place. With hindsight, I suppose that like root vegetables they do not like being moved and having the tip of the taproot disturbed - it being quite hard to avoid this last given the length of the things. But they are alive and will, no doubt, in time breed and maybe I will have some prize dandelions in the special place.
So took on sufficient refreshment to have further thoughts about jigsaws. I shall write to the BBB recommending that they make arty jigsaws compulsory for all the squillions of art students that we have these days. Make them do a 1,000 peice jigsaw of a famous picture so that they get to know the picture in an intimate way and then take them to see the real thing. The idea being that being stuck with a jigsaw for hours would make them actually look at the picture - something they propably don't bother with presently. Once a week for the duration of their first year. I think they would learn a lot. Maybe the talented ones would then grow up to be artists rather than show-offs who think that chucking wet compost at wet plaster is interesting, meritorious and deserving of substantial payment. In the meantime, perhaps it is just as well that most of them wind up flipping burgers when they graduate after their three years education.
Considering taking my own medicine and popping over to the Louvre. Have to see what the BH has to say about that.
Next item is Mr Oliver. I am not very keen on television chefs at the best of times but I think this one gets the prize for irritating me the most. But sorry to see that he has joined the celebrity emetic club founded by Viscount Gelfdorf and is going on about chickens (having sorted out our school dinners). The man must be quite rich so why can't he just retire to the country, take up growing pumpkins or marrows (or both) and get out of our newspapers? Follow the good example set in that regard by the late George Harrison.
Resumed my own gardening activities and now about half way through a short third potato trench. Must put plenty of leaf mould in it as the soil is very thin - maybe as little as six inches. Must get on as it will soon be time to plant the broad beans which I have not yet even ordered.
On the livestock front, the moles have been busy and are now on-allotment again. The deer seem to be leaving the perpetual beet alone for the moment but have been munching at my prize dandelions - that is to say the ones that came up by themselves behind the compost heap - rather than the ones I moved to a special place. With hindsight, I suppose that like root vegetables they do not like being moved and having the tip of the taproot disturbed - it being quite hard to avoid this last given the length of the things. But they are alive and will, no doubt, in time breed and maybe I will have some prize dandelions in the special place.
# posted by Jim @ 3:37 AM 
