BEASTIE BOYS ANGER AT PARKING RESTRICTIONS

"We often pop over to Brixton to see our boy Tombola. But now that these draconian restrictions have been passed, where are we supposed to park?", asked Ad-Rock, yesterday. MCA added, "Lambeth Council have not heard the last of this. Sometimes (you gotta) fight DUR DUR for your right DUR DUR DUR DUR (to park!). Kick it!"

Local VW owners were not available for comment, although they are believed to be pleased with the new regulations.

Hey, Old Blues!

If Pleasant can't see the top of the BT Tower from his window, we get sent home right?

Night of the sunflowers

Summer's gone...days spent with the grass and sun....

Apart from the Velvet Queen which is still battling away despite constant attacks from the ravenous goldfinches, the sunflowers are all dead now. Biggy Smalls...dead. Tupac....dead....maybe I shouldn't have named them after deceased rappers. Junior & Senior and the Twins gone too and now all just feeding the birds.

Who won the competition then? Who knows? Or even cares? Despite our glorious early burst, it wasn't me. We didn't pass 2metres. Moon appears to be the winner based on published evidence, but I know with mine own eyes that Ak's was bigger than that until it perished in the winds last week.

Time we got a new comp underway. Any one? I'll also need something else to write about on here through those winter months!

We're caught in a trap. I can't walk out, because my leg is all mangled like

A few weeks ago I had an unpleasant experience with a mouse. Well, this morning I was awoken by distressed calls from CP. This time her leg had been caught in a trap and so I was faced with a difficult choice.

Ha, of course not. No, CP was distressed because she had gone downstairs to find another mouse caught in a snap trap, but again not dead. Rubbish! We must have the least humane mouse traps ever! But as a now hardened killer, I began the process of mentally preparing for the next stage (the concrete flags I used last time had gone, so it was shaping up to be a case of Willis, with the spade, in the back garden). On went the gardening gloves and I was ready to go.

Last time the unfortunate occupant was clearly on the way out, but this new one was still scrabbling about trying to escape. Maybe this one could just hobble free? I took it a couple of streets away, passing a few people on the way ("Morning!") and put the trap down next to a wheelie bin. Should I kill it? See what it does when I let it go and decide from there. No bits of masonry lying about this time so I would need to strangle it. I opened the trap and before I could even get it in a headlock, it did a runner behind the bin.

It's a pity 'That's Life' isn't on anymore

Because my passionfruit's got plums!




(And those are not my elegant fingernails).

Harvest Moon: It's a wonderful life

Moon might have been better off using that title, but as far as I'm aware she's not growing her own crops. So there.

When I first moved to London I got back into my Gamecube and came very close to buying the game Harvest Moon. I was deeply attracted to the idea of coming home from work, after battling past the rest of the rush hour drones, and then spending the evening tending a computer-generated farm. In the game you grow crops to then sell at market, manage a herd of cattle, grow an orchard... whatever farming desire takes your fancy really. You can even court a local village girl, in the hope that your offspring will grow up to continue your farming legacy. What better to drown out the usual Brixton evening chorus of sirens and gunfire than immersing myself in a pretty, make-believe rural community?

Well....I decided that maybe, just maybe, real life might be ok after all. I may not have room to keep a herd of cows (and after seeing one being sick in Scotland I don't think that I would want to) but runner beans, tomatoes, and blueberries seemed a decent starting point.

And now we're reaping the rewards. We've had loads of beans (pick them when young - they're not good when they get big) and now we're getting tomatoes. Hopefully the blueberry will actually flower or something next year.

The television will not be revolutionised

Way back at the start of the year, the I Knit London heroes took on the combined brain might of the Eggheads. Click here and move down to the 2nd item if you want to read the small piece from February


Now, you too can enjoy the titanic struggle that ensued. That's right, the televisual event of the year is happening on Friday August 31, 6pm, BBC 2. Be there, or be C J De Mooi.



Laugh! at Dermot's clumsy knitting-based puns!



Gasp! at my heavily made-up face!



Be awed! by the knitting/general knowledge prowess on display!


If you look closely you might even see me winking flirtatiously at Judith Keppel.

How we used to live

You know that room in the home or workplace where you get drinks or prepare food? Chances are it will have a kettle in there, a sink, cutlery...perhaps even a microwave.

Didn't we used to call this room a 'kitchen'?

No, where I work it's a 'Tea Station'. I expect it's the same at NASA.

Reminds me a bit of when I did some work on the lights at the Johnson & Johnson plant in Hull (happy times!). We were required in the 'Wound Management Laboratory' which sounds pretty exciting right? It was where they made sticking plasters.

I fear that I'm spending too much time listening to Terry Wogan in the morning and becoming a TOG.

Tombola's photo album: the nation gives its verdict

While it may not look like it, I do occasionally spend time outside of the garden. A couple of weeks ago I paid a visit to Lambeth Country Fair. It was an impressive event: live music, some of the biggest bouncy castles I've ever seen, a dog show, small children on motorbikes jumping over cars

and through flaming hoops:

We particularly liked the assistant on standby with the fire blanket. I spent the rest of day singing the Junior Kickstart theme.

and.....as if all of that was not enough, I bumped into a legend. He actually said 'Lovely jubbly' as the photo was being taken. Brilliant.

It was a very hot day and he must have been baking under all of that leather and gold. Responses to this picture can be placed into two categories:

1.

Something along the lines of "Who is he?", or, "He looks like an alcoholic Tommy Lee Jones".

2.

"That is the most awesome thing I have ever seen"

"I hate you. Where was that?"

"That is possibly the funniest pic I have ever seen! Brilliant."

"Amazing work"

"You lucky git! We have a signed photo of Wolfie, but it's not the same."

The Constant Gardener

Surprised that I haven't used that one before. Hello, hello, it's good to be back etc.

May as well pick up where I left off, and give a garden update. Especially as Gaz enjoys them so much. When I left for my hols a couple of weeks ago, my sunflowers appeared to have all peaked, some distance short of the 2m mark. "Russian Giants" my arse. It was a pleasant surprise, then, to return to find that the Velvet Queen donated by Moon was making a late bid for victory. It was 180cm at the last check and is now the King of our garden. Better still, it has about a dozen flowers on it.

The title appears to be between Ak and Munch now, but until either of them displays any evidence that they have 2m+ flowers, and are not just growing bamboo, I declare myself the winner.

It's a good job that Stoke Newington doesn't have much of a Haitian population

This blog was written a few weeks ago and lay dormant in 'Draft' format. By popular demand (Cosmo, this one's for you), here it is.

***

Remember that crazy hat I had when admiring my runner beans? No? Look here.
The hat was purchased a couple of weeks ago, with a fancy dress party in mind. Here it is, along with the other items that made up my outfit. Can you guess what I went as.....






Any ideas?


So that's a top hat & feather.... bamboo flute.... raggedy pants.... threadbare shirt...voodoo doll... and black face paint (sounds like a nightmarish version of the Generation Game).


That's right: Baron Samedi, the voodoo high priest made famous by Geoffrey Holder in 'Live and Let Die'.



An obvious choice for any fancy dresser, right? I'd first considered dressing as this guy prior to the ill-fated Womble debacle a few years ago. Long story, but basically myself and two others dressed as Wombles for a fancy dress 70s party. At Leeds station, a group of drunken thugs took exception to this and, after trying to steal Mme Cholet's head, smacked us upside the head a bit. Instead of arresting some of the b*stards for assault, the police found this all rather amusing. Nice one.


You'd think I might have learned my lesson after that. If not, surely the message should have hit home a couple of years later, narrowly avoiding a beating dressed as Scooby Doo in Sheffield? Nope, last Saturday I was in Stoke Newington looking like this:



Making a shirt and pair of trousers go all raggedy was a lot of fun. Thowing a garden fork through the shirt resulted in an effect that you could easily pay big money for down the fashionable boutiques.

I was fairly paranoid from the start about causing offence in this costume. I'd been assured the day before that lots of people would be wearing odd stuff, including a Spiderman. This convinced me to go for it. Not so: approximately four people were dressed up. 'Spiderman' = a man in jeans and T-shirt with a Spiderman eye mask that he wore for the first 10 minutes. Great. To be honest, I did know that the party theme was 'Masquerade' so I really ought to have taken that on board. But once the prospect of wearing a top hat and raggedy pants got into my head, there was no stopping it!


Fortunately, all went well. Most people knew who I was supposed to be and sympathised with my retarded-childlike playing of my bamboo flute (some people who couldn't see me actually thought that there was a pre-schooler learning the flute in the house next door). I was in the toilet queue (you who do voodoo use loo too) when the wind left my sails. "Minstrels!" came the call a guy joining the line. "No! I'm the guy from the Bond film!" I anxiously responded, quickly turning my face left and right to display the painted/non-painted sides. The toilet became available, and that was the end of that. I didn't see the guy again. I don't know if he genuinely thought I was making some kind of racist statement or was just messing with me. Either way, I began to feel a bit awkward and got changed not long after (I'm not completely stupid - I'd never intended to get on the night bus to Brixton dressed like that).

Here's my voodoo doll, Clarkson:

Another kill and I get my '00'

It's been a traumatic day. Readers keen on animal rights might not want to read any more of this. Ditto anyone about to eat a meal. This blog can't be all sunflowers and knitting. I need to report the bad stuff too.


Regular readers may recall that we've had a long-running battle with mice in our house. Initially I ignored them, but then the battle became gradually more extreme, through humane traps, various baits, snap traps and then poison. Recently though, there's been no problem and they seemed to have got the message that they weren't really welcome. Until this morning. I came downstairs to find a mouse in the snap trap. Only it wasn't dead. Its back leg was caught in there and although it was alive, it certainly wasn't very well. While I agonised over what to do, it would occasionally make small pathetic movements with its other paws.


Two options then. Let it go somewhere, where it would most likely die a pretty slow death. Or complete a murine act of euthansia. I took it outside and to the end of the street where there was a big pile of rubbish. There, I released it from the trap. I was hoping that it might maybe give me a little wink, shake the cramp out of its leg, and skip merrily away. No. It dragged itself a couple of cm, and then gave up. Still breathing, but looking incapable of moving any distance. The old internal debate kicked in: I must do the decent thing, finish the poor animal off. But maybe it just needs a rest after its stressful experience? When it's recuperated it might be ok? Come on, look at its leg - it's practically detached. By now it was after 7am and a few people were walking past on their way to work. I had to make a decision.


In amongst this pile of junk were some paving slabs. I don't need to spell out what happened here. It wasn't pretty, and I felt pretty sickened afterwards. But at least it was swift.



*


A while ago Ak was griping about how freak storms were smashing up his sunflowers. I scoffed. Yeah yeah, just because your sunflowers are puny weaklings. But now I have some sympathy. This evening our garden was pummelled by hailstones. Leaves were shredded, and flowers smashed.











The pics show a sunflower leaf, and a nasturtium, as any fule kno. Ripped to pip, I tell you!

A day in the hood

Domesticated blog time. Jonze will love this. Today I have:

1. Baked a cake. Blueberry and pear. It's very tasty. I just followed CP's instructions really, but I'm proud of it. Mmm!

2. Measured my sunflowers. Here is what is probably our first entrant in the competition. It is approx. 165cm tall and now that it has a flower I'm guessing that it won't grow much taller. We'll see.

3. Admired my fledgling runner beans. Anyone know any runner bean recipes? I'll hopefully be needing them in the next few weeks.

4. Submitted a paper to Work & Stress (rating: 2.156 Impact Factor fans!).

Readers, watch this space for more action-packed blogs!

Coming soon to a railway siding near you

My favourite is 'Mikz race kid'.

John Barry Bingo II

Quick post script about last night....

It was amazing. The only minor downer was that I'd convinced myself that Shirley Bassey would make a special guest appearance to sing Goldfinger and sadly that wasn't to be. That aside, it was class. I thought I might actually explode during the Bond medley at the end.

Here's a very ropey pic of John Barry getting a standing ovation:

And now for the bit that you really want to know. The winning Barry Bingo card:

This earned me a free trip to see Die Hard 4 (for getting the most crossed off) AND a free drink when we get there (for being the first to get a line). It was a very tight game - I claimed victory by a single point. I can heartily recommend concert bingo though - we're seeing Jarvis Cocker on Saturday and I'm threatening to create a 'Cocker Lottery' for that.

John Barry Bingo

Tonight I shall be attending this, and I am very excited indeed. I've been a big fan of John Barry's music since being introduced to Bond films as a kid and my interest has grown from there. Those lucky enough to be in attendance at the first (and likely only) Tombola DJ set will, I'm sure, have fond recollections of hearing the Moonraker theme (end title). Not too sure how much involvement Brer Barry had with the discofying of that version but it's on his Moonraker soundtrack so it's good enough for me. Also on that album is the track, 'Bond Smells A Rat', which is one of the best titles in my collection.

As if I couldn't be excited enough already, the adrenaline levels will only be increased further by the involvement of John Barry Bingo.

The draw was made last night. The 21 tracks included on the Themeology collection were put into a big pot and used to draw out two sets of 15.

To add to the atmosphere, Tombolablog pretended to be Graham Kelly for the occasion ("Hello and welcome to the John Barry Bingo draw. The ties will be played on Thursday 21st June, 2007"). CP dressed up as Sir Bert Millichip. I love it when she does that.

Here's what the beautifully crafted bingo cards look like:

CP picked a good collection. I wanted Vendetta and Wednesday's Child so I remain a bit jealous of that. There's recently been much frantic listening to some of the more obscure tracks such as 'The Knack' or 'Walk don't run' so that we can definitely recognise them if they are played.

And here's my gamecard. I was very pleased to get 'The Persuaders theme' as word is that it's very likely to feature tonight (the music is selected by Jarvis Cocker as this is part of his Meltdown curation. 'The Persuaders' is apparently his favourite Barry piece).

We'll need to be pretty discreet with this to avoid irritating those around us. I wonder if I would be thrown out for yelling "HOUSE!" mid-way through 'You only live twice?'

You realise that you're middle class when....

You find yourself having to add "basil" to your mobile phone's dictionary as it doesn't recognise it on predictive text.

I pity the fool that thinks I'm dead

A few months ago I was using a ruler to measure a massive poo on my street. It feels healthier and much more pleasing to be getting my measuring kicks by assessing the growth of my sunflowers. Today the front runner passed the 1m mark. A happy evening in the Tombolablog household, believe me.

But this blog is not about the tall specimens.

This is dedicated to the toughest plant I have ever seen. Even being snapped in two didn't stop it. I was very close to binning it as I didn't want it hindering the growth of the plant it was sharing a pot with, but it has clung to life by a thread and bounced back. It's the Kenny Dobbins (google him) of the horticulture world. It will never win any medals, but it certainly deserves one.

Spot the ball

Yesterday we were walking along the Strand when we noticed a police helicopter, then a police car, and then more and more police motorcyles. Ooh! Could this be the Queen driving past, I wondered excitedly? No. But surely the next best thing! We had the good fortune to have turned up at the exact moment a couple of thousand naked people cycled past. Those of a nervous disposition may wish to avert their eyes...

How does your garden grow?

Have I mentioned that I've been doing a spot of gardening recently?

The sunflowers are now heading towards the magical 1m mark:

Seen as none of my fellow growers have reported their progress recently, I can only assume that the Brixton sunflowers are zooming towards undisputed victory.

The runner beans have been just as successful:

They are now taller than me.