Posted in November 2007

Monday Nov 12th - Real Life Tom & Jerry

Source: knightrider45
Monday 12th November 2007, 8:11pm

At exactly 1.50am this morning, the silence of the household was shattered to smithereens by this horrible yowling noise from the hall. Stupid cat had brought in a mouse with her again.

This is the cat that adopted us years ago, after the Teenage One, then a proper little girl, fed her canned tuna. Over the next 8 years or so, we cleared ownership of the cat from its former owners, who have since moved away, the Teenage One lost interest in her "project" and the cat has since formed an unbreakable bond with my manager, aka the wife.

So much so that it's a case of My Cat And I.

But it was me who had to get up at this stupid hour of the morning today. The piercing, mournful yowling occasionally stopped for a few seconds, and this sudden, unexpected silence, was followed by the most horrendous thudding and banging as the cat proceeded to chase it's prey into closed doors and around the lounge.

I got up to find the cat on the manager's computer desk, attempting to get the mouse, which had run around the back of it for safety and escape from the cat.

By 2.15 am this mornng,I was dragging the desk out and clearing everything from under it so I could get to the mouse and put it outside. The cat, on watching me, decided that it couldn't wait any longer, and pushing past me, making me jump and hit my head on the desk, launched into an all out offensive to catch the mouse, being smacked by this years Norwich Yellow Pages as she knocked it over onto herself, which made her jump back into me, resulting in yet another head banging session.

So, in a single 3ft wide square desk opening, there was me on my knees, The Cat, and the mouse, all together in a really tiny cramped space.

On eventually freeing myself from the makeshift safari park under the desk, I stood up, just as the light bulb blew. All of a sudden, I was in this darkened, freezing cold room, with THAT horrible yowelling and fighting going on around my ankles.

That's when I gave up and went back to bed.

The wife got up this morning and found her desk pulled away from the wall and various boxes, crates and telephone directories in the middle of the lounge. The Mouse was still there, somewhere, as was the cat, who was still sitting on guard, watching for the mouse, some five hours later.

We (sorry, I) eventually found the mouse, rescued it from the cat, and put it out into the garden at about half nine this morning. The cat still keeps looking for it now. And to get the mouse, we had to empty a five shelf unit where we keep all our videos, and drag the unit out, after blocking all possible mouse exits with some of the videos, to catch it. And, at one stage, I ended up in a tug of war with the cat, the mouse in the middle of us, until I gave in, in case the mouse split in half between us!

A simple life? Well, maybe one day - you never know!

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Sunday 11th November - Rememberance Day

Source: knightrider45
Sunday 11th November 2007, 7:30am

For all our military and ex-military men and women. This is an excerpt from a report about a Pearl Harbour Memorial Sevice recently held in America. Lest we forget.......

Some years ago, while leading a church group on a tour of Pearl Harbor, I stood among the clergy and their spouses in the gleaming white-arched and covered Memorial above the USS Arizona. One minister in our group, a man from Maine, had been there on December 7, 1941--the day the Japanese flew in to sink our Pacific Naval Fleet. He had not been aboard the Arizona, but his ship had also been hit. He described vividly the horror of being aboard the flaming and sinking vessel as bullets flew and bombs roared. As I listened, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a Japanese tourist entering the Memorial.

It was the man's fine clothes--long tie, buttoned sports jacket, and shiny brown lace-up shoes--that initially attracted my attention. In Hawaii, professionals like lawyers, corporate executives, soldiers and ministers seldom, if ever, wear ties or jackets. Even network television news anchors wear open-collared aloha shirts. This man, dressed as he was, stood out

Two women walked with him. The older one I took to be his wife, the other perhaps an older daughter. Both wore conservative dresses and fancy shoes. The man appeared to be in his sixties, and while he may have spoken English, I only heard him speak Japanese. In his left hand, he carried, almost shyly, an ornate and obviously costly multi-flowered wreath about eighteen inches across.

Our group's veteran continued to speak as we clustered around him. He described being caught below deck: feeling disoriented as the ship took on water where he stood, fire coming from above and the smoke stealing his breath. His buddy lay dead at his feet as the young sailor struggled in the darkness to escape, fear and adrenaline propelling him to the surface. Everyone in our group was so engrossed in his story, that no one, except for me, noticed the Japanese tourist and his family who walked quite near to us.

As I watched, the tourist stopped, turned to his wife and daughter and spoke to them. They stood quietly, almost solemnly. Then the man straightened his tie, first at the neck and then near the belt, and tugged at the hem of his jacket. As if in preparation, he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and then exhaled. Alone, he somberly stepped forward toward the railing at the water's edge above the sunken warship.

The other tourists swirled around him. From what I could see and hear, they were apparently all Americans. They were talking, laughing, looking, asking questions; some were listening to our minister's story, but none seemed aware of the tourist who had captured my attention.

I don't believe the Japanese man understood the minister's words. As I listened to one man and watched the other, the Japanese tourist came to the rail, bowed at the waist, and then stood erect. He began to speak; I heard his words but could not comprehend them. However from his tone and the look on his face, I felt their meaning. His manner conveyed so many things at once--confession, sorrow, hurt, honor, dignity, remorse and benediction.

When he had finished his quiet prayer, he gravely dropped the flowered wreath into the seawater--the same water the minister kept mentioning in his reminiscence--and watched as the wreath floated away on the tide. The man struggled to remain formal, to keep face, but his tears betrayed him. I guessed he must have been a soldier, a warrior of the air, whose own plane had showered the bombs and bullets that had torn through our soldiers, sinking their ships. It struck me that he had come on a pilgrimage of repentance, not to our government, but to the gravesite of those young men whose lives he had taken in the name of war.

Stepping backward one pace, the Japanese veteran then closed his eyes and bowed again, very deeply, and very slowly from the waist. Then he stood tall, turned around and rejoined his family. His deed done, they began to leave. All the while, our minister veteran continued his narrative. He and the group were oblivious to the poignant counterpoint occurring behind them.

But I was not the only American to witness the Japanese man's actions. As I watched his family leave, I noticed another American step away from the wall on which he had been leaning. He was dressed casually and wore a red windbreaker with the VFW emblem on it. He had a potbelly, thinning hair and held his hat in his hand. I assumed the man was a WW II veteran. Perhaps he had served in the Pacific, I thought, and was himself on a pilgrimage.

As the Japanese family walked by him, the American stepped directly into their path, blocking their way. I immediately tensed, fearing a confrontation. The startled Japanese tourist, who had been deep in thought, stopped short, surprise and sorrow mixed on his face. His family, eyes on the ground, stopped abruptly, then crowded closer around him.

But the American simply stood at attention, once again a strong, straight-backed soldier. Then he raised his right hand slowly and stiffly to his forehead, saluting his former enemy.

The American remained in salute until the Japanese, with dawning understanding, returned the gesture.

As the tourists milled by, the two men stood as if alone, joined by their shared pain, glories, honors and memories, until the American, while remaining at attention, slowly lowered his arm and formally stepped backward one pace. The Japanese tourist, when his arms were both once again at his side, bowed formally to the man in front of him. To my surprise, the American returned the honor.

Neither said a word. Neither had to. Their solemn faces wet with tears expressed to each other in a universal language what could never have been said in words.

I watched as the two men, their reconciliation complete, went their separate ways, united in a way I had never imagined possible.

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Thursday 8th November - I'm still here!

Source: knightrider45
Thursday 8th November 2007, 8:23am

So pushed for time, can't believe I haven't blogged for two weeks! Santa must really deliver this box of Spare Time I keep asking him for this year, so I can take the occasional couple of hours a day from it!

What's been happening? I'm just now routinely busy, every day. Doing as much overtime as I can, and I think, since I've last blogged, I've worked about 60 hours overtime. Unreal!

So, I've had to squeeze life in around work. Web sites coming along nicely, if not far too slowly. Still got to sort out and add Laptops and DVD & CD's to the site yet - this is about another 1,500 pages alone.

But I've made my first web site sale now - a complete Pentium 4 computer system which has made me £63.00 profit, plus the installation fee of about £20.00. I'm installing this for the customer Friday afternoon. £80 profit. 2 hours work. Beats a 12 hour day shift at Kings Lynn hands down doesn't it? And its working for my business, for me, and that, to me, is really important.

The eBay side starting to run into a loss now - I'm left with things that aren't so popular but still having to pay £20.00 insertion fees. So, I'm leaving the rest of the stuff alone for car boots & Sunday markets after Easter - and I'm starting a second user section of my web site as well and putting the stuff on there as well.

It's been really quiet at work - I'm still working those 12 hour dreaded day shifts. A criminal waste of my time when I have so much other stuff I could be doing instead, although it helps to serve the main purpose of course - paying The Mortgage.

The Management, AKA my wife, has been off sick since I last blogged as well - her back is still really bad and this means weekly visits to the Oesteopath at the moment. She went to see the doctor yesterday, and collected another sick note for two weeks.

My son had an accident at work and had to be taken to hospital by his mum last Thursday (I think). Tripped over at work and ending up badly spraining his ankle. Casulty department was really busy and they had a three hour round trip by the time he was seen. He said that the consulting room had blood on the floor, and he had to stand barefooted on his trainer to save standing in it! Medical staff were really busy, but there were no cleaners on shift. Isn't that bad?

And, a little note of sadness too.My Ford fiesta, the car that has been part of my life for the last 5 years or so, was scrapped yesterday. Collected by the fire brigade - so my little car still has one purpose in it's life before it finally dies - assisting our fire brigade in training exercises.

My Nissan has also gone. Scrapped. Isn't it strange, that when I take a twenty two year old car in for MOT I can walk away with change from £200, and yet an 8year old car needs £400 of repairs? So it's gone, as well. Back, officially, to a one carfamily now, although we've only had one car on the road since January.

And, just close, two really productive things stand out from the last fortnight. Firstly, I've got rid of a quarter of the grass on the back garden - I'm determined I'm NOT going to be cutting the grass every week next year. I'll should finish off the first half of the grass this weekend. Then I'll start on the other side of the garden. Then - it'll be the front garden. Anyone want a lawnmower? (snigger)

And, finally, I've got one. After months of searching, I've had last managed to get an icon of my child hood - thanks eBay! The picture on this blog shows a picture of a Z Victor 4 Police Car - The Talking Police Car. had one of these when I was about 9 or 10 and I loved it to bits.

And, you know, although this one's 30 years old it's really been looked after - and it still works, although the voice box wants cleaning up a bit - it's been stored for years. I'm so pleased that I've captured - again- a little part of me.

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