A miscellany of heaven-only-knows-what along with opinionated nonsense from the largest village in Cornwall. Plenty of silliness, very little of merit and the occasional tirade.
I'm sure that lots of Millbrookians will already know that we are to be visited by the musical trio Hoover the Dog. I'm sure of this because there have been posters up in Widdicombe's and the hardware shop for a while now.
A pair of tickets for Mrs The MIllbrooker and me are now attached to the noticeboard in Millbrooker Towers and, on the strength of the YouTube videos that I've checked out, I recommend that anyone within hailing distance of the Rame Peninsula should grab some tickets as well.
This is Hoover the Dog (the three gents on stage right - accordion, guitar and fiddle) playing with some friends at Cheltenham Folk Festival last year in what they call their "Kennel Club" line-up performing (and I quote) "The Dance of Sugarglum Fairy". Mmmm - right up my street.
So - how's about supporting what promises to be a great evening's entertainment right on our very own doorstep?
Tickets are on sale in the hardware shop, West Street at a piffling £6 a head (with minor concessions for claimants and OAPs).
NooNoo's favourite viewing will be no more. Alas and alack!
The BBC has confirmed that it's not going to commission any new episodes of In The Night Garden. Iggle Piggle, Upsy Daisy and the Tombliboos will have no new adventures. Boo!
You know, I never knew that the thing was narrated by Derek Jacobi (whom we shall be seeing in April as King Lear, a minor difference to singing something along the lines of "Yes, my name is Igglepiggle, Igglepiggle-niggle-wiggle-diggle!") Well, we've all got to make a living, haven't we?
So, sad news for stoners, students and toddlers everywhere. Mind you, there's 114 of the miniature masterpieces already in existence and I guess they'll be endlessly looped on kiddies channels for the next fifty years.
OK, OK - I know that very few readers will get any further than the banner at the top of this wee posting.
BUT - just in case any of you feels that the recent activities by employers such as BA in running squealing to the high court on the flimsiest of legal technicalities the moment their workforce votes to take action might be a tad on the unfair side, read on... There is something you can do which will take only a minute or two of your time.
"...John McDonnell MP has introduced a Lawful Industrial Action (Minor Amendments) Bill to prevent anti-union employers blocking the democratic wishes of trade union members who have voted overwhelmingly in favour of industrial action.
For the Bill to progress to the next stage, 100 MPs need to attend Parliament for its "Second Reading” on Friday 22nd October. MPs are usually in their constituencies on Fridays so RMT members need to contact their MPs to ask them to be present in Parliament. Please take just a few minutes now to lobby your MP online to support the Bill by following this linkhttp://www.unitedcampaign.org.uk/bill.php(don’t worry if you’re not sure who your MP is, simple enter your postcode and it will do the rest)."
Everybody's favourite steam enthusiast Bern the Lens has just sent me a shot that he took only yesterday.
I'll let Bern tell the story...
"...we have had two Sundays running of steam on the Liskeard-Looe Branch, the first time since 10 Sept 1961. The weather was favourable for a change.
Yesterday in what can only be described as stupendous light, 9466 heads away from Terras Crossing alongside the East Looe River with the 15:35 Looe to Liskeard. For the diesel enthusiasts 37 685 on the rear.
This shot taken from the grounds of Trewith Holiday Cootages who allowed access to the garden for £5 Fee which was for the MacMillan Nurses, and they made £225 from the photographers over the two Sundays for this worthwhile charity.
One hell of a view ... people like me dream of shots like this."
Judge for yourselves:
Just a wee reminder - Bern the Lens will be presenting his highly entertaining and very informative "Two Routes to Tavistock" slide show and talk on this coming Thursday, 30th September. For more details click here.
Those of you who are well and truly sick of me drivelling on about the morris should be mightily pleased at the news that the 2010 season has now reached its end.
There's just the Wreckers' AGM and a long winter's rehearsals over the coming seven months of morris-less time.
Altogether now - one, two, three, aaah.
That is, of course, except for the Tavistock Christmas market engagement sometime in December and the traditional Boxing Day dance out in which black and gold tatters clad anarcho-morris warriors will appear at some hostelry or other to spend time bashing each other with sticks, whooping with joy.
Meanwhile, to celebrate a season of dance, we met up with some old chums (that'll be the Plymouth Morris Men and the Plymouth Maids, then) to dance the afternoon away at the Wilcove Inn near Torpoint.
Dozybean joined us and was immediately festooned in tatters courtesy of Richard Wrecker who gallantly swept the tatters from his own back onto Dozy's shoulders.
Here's a trio of Plymouth Maids dancing outside the inn.
This was very much a day of dance for the dancers; we did a fair amount of arsing about with the dances and the tunes - and slightly more ale than is normal during performance might have been consumed.
We had a few pub goers and non-morris types join in with Shepherd's Hey.
And so it went on, plenty of laughs, plenty of music.
Here's Dozybean amongst the Wreckers dancing Poppleton for the first time, completely unrehearsed and not wearing black under her tatters.
After the dancing was done, and after some singalong stuff in the garden of the Wilcove Inn, we took ourselves indoors out of the autumnal chill as the sun went down and a short music session ensued...
...before the Halfway Harmony male voice group took over entertaining duties. Click on the icon below to hear them in action.
Mrs The Millbrooker and I left shortly before the singing began, it had been a long day and a quiet hour or so over glass of Bordeaux in the comforts of our own sitting room seemed like a great idea.
So farewell, morris season 2010 - here's looking forward to the new season...
You might have missed it (you might well have been sound asleep); the vernal equinox happened, bang on celestial schedule, on Thursday morning at 03:09 precisely.
This means that the harvest moon cannot be far behind; the harvest moon being the first full moon after the vernal equinox. This year that happened to be at 09:20 of the same morning.
Not many of us are moon watching during daylight hours, so you'll have to make do with the ever-so-slightly-waning harvest moon over Millbrook lake that I snapped shortly before eight in the evening.
On Thursday last, I was excused the normal routine of flogging tickets to a bewildered public and instead attended what is known on the railway as LDC. That's Local Divisional Council, which is essentially a load of local level union reps (like me) trying to get the local manager to agree to stuff that he either doesn't want to or hasn't got the authority to. Very occasionally some fruitful business is done at these affairs; as often as not nothing much happens during or after the meeting.
That apart, it did mean that I had a fair deal of the afternoon free. The timing of the meeting and the timing of local transport services didn't do much by the way of coinciding and I found myself at Cremyll with the better part of an hour to kill before a bus could whisk me the couple of miles home to Millbrook.
Normally, I'd walk it - but I was in meeting attire and that would have made the schlep a bit sweaty and uncomfortable, not to mention a bit of a strain on the old smart(ish) shoes.
So I just sat myself down and watched the world go by. Luckily, I had my camera to hand to give me something to play with and keep me out of mischief as I idled the hour away.
Here's The Northern Belle (which is the boat of choice for Tamar Cruising to use as the Cremyll Ferry) on its way towards Cornish landfall with Plymouth's Civic Centre building looming large in the background.
A Royal Navy vessel motored past; one that I didn't recognise at all. It's a good deal smaller than most of the warships that come and go up the Tamar to Devonport Docks.
Turns out to be HMS Raider - you can read all about her here, should you so wish; in brief she's an Archer class training vessel "...used to fulfil the sea-training syllabus of the Cambridge University Royal Naval Unit...".
As you've probably guessed, I really didn't have much to do (nor, indeed, do I have much to write about - but you've got this far).
Mainly for the consumption of non-locals who might find it marginally more interesting than those of us who take this sort of view for granted here's a short video of the scene from Cremyll.
No, that's not a euphemism for distasteful practices on specialist websites.
I've had a comment from Cousin Colin (or more accurately but much more tiringly - Second Cousin Colin) who is the hidden power-behind-the-throne of thegreynomad.co.uk.
Cousin Colin is a web designer and you can find out all about his excellent work here:
Should you be in need of someone to help in fiddling with your website, Cousin Colin could well be your man - pay him a virtual visit by clicking the link above; you never know it could be highly mutually beneficial.
I haven't got a digital photo to upload of Cousin Colin because he and I haven't managed to occupy the same room for some years now (he's a bit of a north country inhabitant, by which I don't mean Ilfracombe or Exeter) so you'll just have to make do with the shamelessly nicked photo from his website (above).
UPDATE - STOP PRESS.
Cousin Colin has read and inwardly digested this post and, quick as a flash, a suitable image of said cousin has been forthcoming. So, for the curious amongst you lot in the cheap seats, this is Cousin Colin - should you ever find him wandering the streets of Millbrook (and you never know - you just might) you'll now know that this is the person to greet with a cheery "Howdy, Cousin Colin". Or alternatively an equally cheery "I'm so sorry you have the misfortune to be related to that blasted Millbrooker fellow, come along into the D&C and share a pint or two".
"I am now 81years old, there are many of us out there, traveling the world, seeing the sights. My hair changed colour, becoming first grey and then white... I am one of the many..." (www.thegreynomad.co.uk)
Ah yes - The Grey Nomad - a mysterious character and one of my new favourite websites.
I should probably admit to a familial interest. The Grey Nomad is none other than everyone's favourite first-cousin-once-removed.
Yes, indeed, Auntie Jean has her own website; not a cheap and cheerful blog like this load of old nonsense - oh, no. A proper, professionally designed ".co.uk" affair.
It makes for some mighty fine reading, too - the travel and personal memoirs of an unusual and eventful life. The site is still being added to and will repay visits in the future as well as in the here and now (and what better time is there, or has there ever been, than the here and now?).
So - have a go, click on this link: www.thegreynomad.co.uk and allow yourself a few minutes to enjoy a brief personal history on the home page and then travel with The Grey Nomad to Iona and to the Hidden North. I believe that writings about exploring the New World are to be uploaded in due course (but remember, it's no good trying to hurry a nomad, especially a grey one).
If you do pay the site a visit, please don't forget to sign the guest book.
One more quotation....
"It was 5th September, 1939. I was 10 years old and was visiting my aunts in Freshford. I remember laying on top of an old stone wall when I saw my uncles, 5 of them, all coming out of the house with my aunts. All of them were crying...."
Those sad souls who actually read yesterday's moderately lengthy missive about spending a day on the morris in Looe will know that Millbrooker Towers has been playing host to old friends over the weekend.
Saturday's gaiety and morris-ness was continued (only without the morris-ness) in the evening as Russell cooked up some tasty treats for us at the D&C.
Before that, though, we had to say fond farewells to Helen who was rejoining her cricketing chums and still-in-hangover-recovery-mode other half, Andy.
Here we all are at St Germans station, Mrs The Millbrooker was on both camera and picking us up in the car duties. L-R: Sandybum, yours truly, Hangin' Andy, Helen, Anal, The High Lord of Southwick. A note to pedants amongst us, I've got Sandybum as furthest left because her foot is definitely to the left of me, resting on the steps, even though most of me is to the left of her. There, I'm glad I've got that straight.
After a brief rest period in which Anal kindly passed on some guitar tips (being the sort of person who can play a perfect B minor augmented 9th at the same time as adjusting his belt and sipping tea)...
...we made our way to West Street for one of those traditional slap-ups that Russell does so well. Also in attendance were Dong and Shazzerooneypoos. This is AuntieSharon, The High Lord and Mrs The Millbrooker awaiting their starters.
Anal put in a tremendous effort to finally snatch the Unflattering Photo of the Day Award from himself (remember he was already in the running for his superb attempt on the prize at the Admiral Boscarn earlier in the day - see posting immediately below). In this shot we have L-R Anal, Sandybum and Dong.
Just so you can admire the effort he made to achieve that particular expression, here's another taken only a second or two later in which, I think you'll agree, he looks indubitably suave and handsome. Although Anal would probably prefer to be described as "shaggable". Control yourselves, ladies.
I won't witter on about the food - you'll know by now that I'm a fan of Russell's culinary skills, as indeed was everyone else at our table.
'Twas great to see everyone over the weekend and we're looking forward to seeing Anal and Sandybum again on their way through on Sunday week at the end of their annual North Cornwall holiday.
The other blog that I keep and occasionally update has had a bit of a seeing to today as I'm due to record some more recipe slots for Insight Radio tomorrow.
Should you fancy reading about how to make Beef Olives, Tagliatelle 'Uddersfield (a BathNick recipe), Mr B's Legendary Curry (Millbrook's own Mr B has let his secret be known), Pheasant in Brandy or Broccoli and Stilton Soup....just step this way with your mouse clicker.
There is a permanent link to the MillbrookCookBook site in the right hand column of this blog.
As advertised on these very pages, Saturday saw several morris teams descending upon the unsuspecting fishing port of Looe to celebrate the Plymouth Morris Men's 40th birthday.
And most of them don't look a day over 80.
The dancing began at The Globe Inn at the foot of Shutta, but the Millbrooker Towers contingent missed that bit on account of enjoying an enormous cooked breakfast before setting off. We had a good excuse: Anal and Sandybum arrived at 0930 after motoring all the way from Westbury having clambered into their little toy car at stupid-o'clock-in-the-a.m.
The High Lord of Southwick was staying with us, too - so we made a merry throng as we joined up with the ladies and gentlemen of the morris. This is (L-R) The High Lord, Anal and me heading towards town; Sandybum was on camera duties and Mrs The Millbrooker was attempting the very difficult feat of finding somewhere to park in Looe on a sunny Saturday.
The first set of dances that we indulged in (or watched from the safety of a nearby café in some cases) took place outside the tourist information office in the centre of town.
This dance is called Poppleton Stick, a jolly little number involving the usual mixture of skipping and stick related violence.
Thanks to the Anal for the video.
We moved on to the seafront, a great morris venue - good sized crowds and plenty of space.
Mrs The Millbrooker had to leave the party early to continue her studies at home so we fare-ye-well'ed overlooking Looe Bay...
...and almost immediately repaired to the Admiral Boscarn's sunny and soon-to-be-morris-filled garden. Here are Anal, Sandybum and yours truly enjoying the first ale of the day. Anal probably wins the Unflattering Photo of the Day Award for this admirable effort.
After a liquid lunch (our breakfast was still very much keeping us going and no solids were deemed necessary), Anal got a quick lesson in how a melodeon works from Richard Wrecker.
After being told how much the thing in his hands cost, it was quickly and VERY carefully returned to its rightful owner.
My old friend and ex-boss Helen made the trip to meet up with us for the first time in a couple of years. She was staying in St Germans with a bunch of utter reprobates who laughingly refer to themselves as a "cricket team on tour" from their native Bristol. Helen is the only person under whom I've worked that I still speak to. Or, indeed, vice-versa (none of my other previous bosses want to speak to me any more than I want to speak to them) which in itself tells how admirably patient with my general overall bolshiness young Helen was. Helen's in centre shot next to Sandybum who is sporting some ultra-cool shades.
My old muckers all wanted to see me actually dance; I think they liked the idea of me suffering some bodily injury. The Wreckers were happy to oblige and I skipped along in braille, pretending to know how to dance "Much Wenlock", to the general merriment of all-comers.
We danced again in the town centre. This is the Newton Bushel team in action by the tourist information office.
Then we did Morris exhaustion at The Globe Inn...
...but we did manage another few dances and a bit more playing as well.
And finally, the day's activities done with, we all let the train take the strain back up the Looe Valley Line to Liskeard for the journeys homeward.
A great day out, loads of fun and silliness - plenty of ale as well! Huzzah!
Thank you to the Plymouth Morris Men for inviting us to join their party and thank you to the High Lord of Southwick, Anal and Sandybum for providing the photos.
Janners and visitors to Janner-land might have wondered over recent days what the dome-like marquee affair that has appeared in their midst (just south of the sundial in on Armada Way) was all about.
I can't really speak for what's gone on there during previous days, but last night it played host to the Ten Tors Orchestra performing with a series of panorama images projected onto a full 360˚ screen.
Mrs The Millbrooker, Dozybean and I went along to see what was going on and to listen to the highly regarded Ten Tors people.
The orchestra is a professional outfit and performs with great aplomb and accomplishment under the direction Simon Ible.
We were treated to Mozart's 10th Symphony (a short piece composed when he was 16) followed by a vivacious and delightful reading of Vivaldi's Four Seasons in its entirety.
After a short interval to allow the smaller bladdered amongst us to use the facilities on the other side of the square, the programme continued with Grainger's arrangement of the Londonderry Air ("Oh, Danny Boy" to you lot in the cheap seats) followed by Haydn's Symphony 45 in Fm "Farewell", with its humorous, but pointed, ending:
"The symphony's nickname comes from the extraordinary final movement. The first half of the movement is quite fast, in accordance with conventional expectations that Haydn himself helped to establish. (Indeed, the first part of the movement is quite similar to the final movement of Haydn's "Mourning" symphony, which he had just completed.) Just as the movement seems to be nearing its conclusion, however, everything stops.
The music which follows is related (by tempo, meter, and tonality) to the serene second movement - hardly the fiery conclusion that the symphony seems to need. Gradually, the various players of the orchestra stop playing, their parts bearing the instruction nicht mehr ("no more") at their individual conclusions.
By tradition, each player departs the stage after completing his or her part, even though the remainder of the orchestra continues performing. This tradition is believed to stem from the piece's first performance. Haydn's Eszterháza musicians, weary after what had already been a long season (and separated from their families), asked Haydn whether he might convey a message to the Prince about their fatigue. Rather than confront his employer directly, Haydn decided to communicate through his new symphony. Prince Nicolaus got the message - and granted the musicians their vacation shortly after the work's premiere." (Quotation from http://www.music.pomona.edu/Orchestra/hay_45.htm).
So - did the conjoining of panoramic images and orchestral music work? Only partly, I think is the answer. None of what I'm about to say should reflect on the tremendous work of the Ten Tors Orchestra.
I found that the addition of such a visual stimulus distracted me from the music, I found myself unable to give my full and proper attention to either the music or the imagery. In the end I largely gave up on the films and watched the orchestra as I would in a normal concert setting - largely negating the point of the evening's performances, as explained by the compere, which was to re-introduce the 18th-19th century entertainment of travelling panoramas.
The siting of the the venue was also a bit of a distraction, even a top-hole orchestra has difficulty competing with Harley Davidsons and heavy goods vehicles only 100 metres away without solid walls to protect it.
So - will I go and see the Ten Tors Orchestra again? Oh yes, just tell me where and when.
Will I go and see them in a tent in the centre of Plymouth with a film show? Probably not.
Alright, not actually in "concert", but everybody's old mate Bern is going to be presenting one of his legendary slide shows to which anyone with an interest in railway or local history should make all due haste.
Not only are you guaranteed an evening of fascinating insights into the past with everyone's favourite fount-of-all-knowledge, but you can also experience that warm glow of having contributed to two excellent charitable causes. All of the proceeds from the event will be shared between "Operation Sunshine" and a local fund to send and support a young lass from Bern's part of the world who will be heading out to Tanzania to work in a school there.
The presentation is called "Two Routes to Tavistock" and features newly digitally enhanced photos that come from Bern's own huge collection which he's been snapping since he was a nipper back in the time of good Queen Bess.
This shot is from 1962: "Tavistock South 4588" - Bern's copy is a lot clearer than mine, but my dear old laptop is almost as old as the loco in the picture and can't cope with the huge file size that Mr The Lens' impressive equipment produces.
A quick plug - I've already got my tickets (and they're good seats, too).
Arguably one of the greatest actors of his generation is visiting Cornwall for a week during which he will be tackling one of the greatest theatrical roles. I saw Jacobi some years back in a touring production of Beckett in which he played the turbulent priest opposite Robert Lindsay as Henry II. Both men were outstanding; I can't wait to see DJ in the flesh again.
So - here's the lowdown:
Derek Jacobi
in and as
King Lear
Hall for Cornwall, Truro
Monday 11th - Saturday 16th April 2011
Tickets are already on sale and if you fancy seeing this Donmar Warehouse production, it might well be wise to get your mitts on some tickets as soon as you can (prime spots are already being snapped up and not just by me).
Information and the online box office can be found by clicking here. (And, no, I'm not on commission).
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All those who said they wanted tickets during the brie and grape party and after the Last Night of the Proms concert are already sorted - your tickets have been bought, will be in my hands shortly and I'll be chasing for money soon after that. We'll all be going on Saturday 16th April, so don't book your holidays for that date. We'll sort out transport arrangements etc closer to the day.
I'm grateful to Nigel for sending me a series of photos that might raise a smile if you've had a bad day.
It probably wasn't as bad as these guys. This series of photos appears to come from an incident in Galway, Ireland, in 2003 or 04; I've found some references to it here (the website has an irritating soundtrack, but some interesting info).
Anyway, here we go...
Some poor soul has forgotten to put the hand brake on properly
So, brave rescue man with his crane truck attaches the car to his crane and away we go.
Careful now, people.
Oops.
Now what?
Get a bigger crane on a bigger truck, of course.
And there the story should have ended with everyone living happily ever after. Except for the insurance companies.
****************
But......
...someone had a play with their Photoshop program and created at least the last image. Check the last photo in comparison with the one directly underneath "Oops. Now What?" above; the people on the quayside are in exactly the same positions, the focus is deliberately fuzzy, the boats are in identical positions, despite the photo being at least an hour or so later - doesn't the tide move in Galway? - and the black van on the quay in the background has disappeared.
Thought it was funny enough without the embellishment, meself. Trust a photo from the internet? I think not.
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