Just seen a satellite image on telly, of a rain cloud that stretches all the way back to eatern USA. Over the next few days it will slowly move over northern England like a gigantic leaking pipe, meaning we get wet for a week or so. So glad I got the motorbike out of mothballs last week. Mind you, the charm of train travel was wearing thin, no doubt due to the abrasive nature of digging a scruffy tenner out of my pocket every morning.
In other news, I've been working up in Newcastle, or near it, on the Tyne Tunnel refurbishment. My word it's parky oop there. I joined a squash club, of course, and got myself involved in their local league system, only to be told that, due to the fact that the new tunnel is nowhere near ready for a control system, I'm back in the office for a while. Here are two souvenir pics:
Paul gets lunch and enjoys the view from our desk. This is the old tunnel, new one is over the hillside.
New tunnel, ovbiously not near completion, as Paul indicates.
In other news, I went to Buxton yesterday (day off - wooo) and enjoyed two hours of pampering. The floatation tank was, well, interesting and very relaxing, until just as I was nodding off there was a spooky BANG from somewhere behind the tank. Given that I was enclosed in warm heavy plastic and in total darkness it brought on a brief bout of claustrophobia. Now I know what that feels like at least. The deep-tissue massage was also very relaxing, but for me not nearly deep enough. I think to get the kind of massage I want, I'd need a very strong woman, or (shudder) a man. New mate Paul (not Paul above) went for the hot stone massage, which sounded better if not for the masseuse's tic. Not pleasnat I imagine, having a person holding two large pebbles jerking uncontrollably whilst grinding the things into your flesh.
In other news, Art Lounge has now opened its second exhibition, entitled "A Sense Of Place". Wifey and I spent two evenings hanging the new work, and on Thursday the public were allowed to see it. The evening went well, but having popped out at 7.30 to run an errand, I discovered a crying daughter Emma, trudging home with her suitcase after witnessing the train doors close on her, and said train disappearing into the gloom leaving her stood in the dark. I tried to get her to Sheffield for her connection to London but after hassling the poor old car for 45 minutes, we arrived just in time for her to watch another train disappear. More tears, until she was advised by the station staff to just get on the next train and explain, and she'd "probably" not have to pay the £90 ticket. I trundled back to the exhibition and was next day informed that Emma had made it without extra charge, so the story ended well. I had, however, missed most of a good party. Oh well I had a clear head for my spa day. Here's a sample from the exhibition:
Art Lounge - now in 3D!!
Speaking of Art Lounge, we now have our music practice evenings in there, so once a month patrons are treated to splendid Irish music played splendidly by Ursula on the Fiddle, Marco on guitar, us on Bodhran and occasionally Roger on harmonica or ukulele. Next one is Feb 20th, so put that in your diary and smoke it. There's also a special evening on March 17th (St Patricks Day).
Ah well, I'm off to trudge round Manchester in the rain with birthday boy Colin. Enjoy yourselves.
It's a service tunnel, which is adjacent to the road tunnel, which is 50 metres below the river Tyne. It's cold, miserable and dark. Still want to be me?
It's a service tunnel, which is adjacent to the road tunnel, which is 50 metres below the river Tyne. It's cold, miserable and dark. Still want to be me?
