Children of men

I had great hopes of this film, with its strong story from P.D. James and its equally strong cast. For once, I wasn't disappointed; this is a very good apocalypse film, albeit one in slow motion. The premise is that humanity loses its fertility, so that we all die out from the bottom of the age pyramid up, at one year per year. About twenty years on, our man Clive Owen gets dragged into some radical group run by his ex-girlfriend (the lovely Julianne Moore), and finds himself smuggling a pregnant girl through a Southern England that is more like Bosnia on a bad day. The tone is unremittingly dark. If the film poses the question "How would humanity react to this moral dilemma?", the answer is; badly. Clearly nobody cares any more. It's the sort of film Spielberg would make rather badly, but then there are no cute kids for him to languish over.

Guess what

The job that I didn't really want has just been offered to me. Not sure what to do now. I've never turned down a job before, so that would at least be novel.

Leaving

Yesterday was my last at my employer of the previous year (11 months, actually--we wouldn't want you to have a year's tenure and have any rights or anything). Traditional leaving drinks were had, and some vouchers to spend in Tiso (they know me fairly well) were given. I will miss a few things: the scones in the canteen, lunchtime walks in the park, the office banter.

West coast rain

Another interview yesterday, and another non-humiliating experience. If this goes on much longer, somebody might offer me a job. Glasgow was damp under a flat grey sky, reminding me of my childhood. I do think my potential employers want an awful lot for what they are paying, and it's not even permanent. Good for my soul though, and a flashy office with a nice view.

I am one

I notice that I've now had this blog for exactly a year. If you have participated in any way, I thank you.

Weekend

I should record something of my long and mostly enjoyable weekend. On Friday, I had a job interview, which felt quite positive. Even if I fail to get the post, it does break my recent run of interviews as theatres of humiliation. So that's good then.

Went away on Saturday with friends. The original objective was to climb in Coire an Lochain, but concerns about the cold meant we walked round the Northern Corries instead. It's well over a decade since I did this last, and that in full-on winter conditions, so it all felt very new. I was a bit depressed to see the amount of erosion on the plateau. That's what happens when you put in a road up to 650m. I also hadn't seen the funicular railway before. I suppose I disapprove, but on the other hand Coire Cas was fairly shagged up already.

Sunday did see some climbing activity on some seacliffs on the Moray coast. On the way, we passed Sueno's stone, and RAF Kinloss, complete with floral tributes at the gate. I did a couple of routes, but found it more relaxing to sit on the beach and watch boats go past.

Today, I mostly washed dishes and vacuumed.

Bring on Front Row

I am a hopeless Radio 4 addict, but my loyalty is cruelly tested sometimes. The 6.30 comedy slot is extremely variable. Last week I had the misfortune to listen to the awful Not today Thank you. I'm ashamed to say that I've listened to this week's just to see how poor it was. The synopsis says:

"Brian is shocked to discover that someone has defaced his precious brand new statue - of himself!"

Words fail me. Why would any commissioning editor fall for a pitch like that? At least the word "hilarious" didn't appear. And then the Archers, where "Ed goes too far". Which means I take comfort in my blog.

Red squirrels

After quite a gap, I went walking yesterday. I'm running out of accessible Munros, so chose Beinn Mheadhonach, which is quite a long way from Blair Atholl. A useful exercise that showed I hadn't turned into a fat slob, since I undercut the Naismith time quite considerably.

In the woods near Blair Castle, I passed one of those very worthy signs that tell you about wildlife.

"Red squirrels is it? I bet you never see them round here."

Of course, I'm wrong, as I immediately see two of them scampering up and down a tree. I'd forgotten how cute their white tummy looks.

Friday night

Went to see (well, mainly hear) Dick Gaughan on Friday night. I only really know him by reputation, which means some pretty old albums. In all honesty, I wasn't that impressed. There were a lot of irritating mannerisms of folk music, such as the endless retuning while introducing a song (I know acoustic guitars go out of tune quickly, but really). Also a rather baroque and over intricate style of playing, no doubt developed over the years and impenetrable to the newcomer.

After the show, I met two nice American ladies, Pat and Sandy, who are Emma's Revolution. We discussed writers who are poor performers of their own songs, among other things. Being in the business, they reckoned that the sound was done badly. Too much treble on the guitar, apparently.

My life is sometimes interesting.

The problem solves itself

I caught up with C and her dress problems today. Apparently, the dress ended up by being a perfect fit.

Wardrobe issues

C is going to a wedding tomorrow. She has a problem, however, in that her dress requires combined tactics in order to fasten the zip correctly. Her flatmate will be at work, and nobody else can fulfill this vital task. What to do?

Suggestions included:

• Putting on the dress the night before.
• Getting up very early and enlisting help of flatmate before she leaves for work.
• Waiting for the postman and getting him to help.
• Fastening as much as possible, covering it with a shawl and seeking help from friend on arrival at the station.

Being a girl must be exhausting.

The Doctor

Have just finished Tom Baker's autobiography; a lucky find in a local charity shop. Like me, he enjoys ironing.

The Count

Can I just say that Count Arthur Strong is absolutely brilliant?

Fingermouse without the finger

I've been quiet for a bit, but it's mostly been for good reasons, like Rog. visiting, or going to fringe shows.

I feel I must record this, however. C in the office is what is known as "good value". She seemed very enthusiastic the other day about going to see Puppetry of the Penis--that magnet for screaming middle-aged women. Today she embarked on the subject again, but it rapidly emerged that she had misinterpreted it somewhat. She imagined it as like Fingermouse: lots of felt puppets, but with a substitute finger, you might say. Us lads however (and how do we instinctively know about this?) had to put her right.

Pyrennean pictures: 2

This is us on the summit of Besiberri North (3015m). I'm the one on the right looking somewhat thoughtful. I made the mistake of drinking water from the burn on the way up, and it disagreed with me rather. The human body has a great capacity for getting you through things, and I stayed fairly functional through the tricky scramble that led to the summit (about British Diff), and back down it (perhaps even trickier). I then proceeded to feel awful, throw up and generally delay things once on easier ground. I got some rough doctoring from our resident anaesthetist (You're going to throw up again. Yeah, told you so.) and was persuaded to continue, minus rucksack. By the time we got to the nice alpine meadow at the base of the ascent, I was virtually back to normal.

It is a nice hill though.

Holiday at work

Work these days feels like a trip to the seaside, what with the excessive heat, and the screeching seagulls nesting on the roof of the building opposite, not to mention the happy whine of the angle-grinder as the construction site on the other side gets to work. Ah, summer days in the office!

Pyrennean pictures: 1

This is near the dam (Cavallers) that seemed to be the starting point to many of our days.

There's a lot of climbing round here, including loads of very hard stuff that we didn't attempt. It does make you realise how much rock there is, and how little of it we have in Britain. So little that we get all bothered when somebody suggests putting a few bolts in. No such scruples here, and I'm not complaining, as it gets you up those slabs very nicely.

Back again

I've been on holiday for a week (will post some interesting pics soon, I hope) and have spent this week so far catching up on laundry and sleep.

Odd to come back from walking around in Spain to a heatwave. British heat at its most intense is still fairly pathetic.

Today the park near work revealed yet another surprise. Wandering past the herbaceous border, I startled four young foxes who were hanging about there.

Nice pictures

As you may have noticed, I've just discovered how to add pictures. This was Ben Cruachan in March. Good Windows wallpaper perhaps?

Buses and beetles

It's a long time since I used any Citylink buses, but it was almost comforting yesterday to discover that a couple of things hadn't changed:

• The driver thinks he's doing you a special favour to be giving out any change, and never has enough. Citylink owe me a pound.
  

• They make any journey into the Highlands seem impressive by doing it nice and slowly. We stopped at Stirling for a 10 minute break (to change horses, perhaps?)

My journey was to Lochearnhead, there to ascend Ben Vorlich. The animal for the day was the beetle. Perhaps the hot humid weather brings them out?

On the way down, the falls at Edinample are very impressive, although the grounds of Edinample Castle prevent you seeing much. There's currently a bridge being rebuilt here too. This means there is no parking and no access to the next glen, from whence the Munros book recommends that you start. Oh, the little loves! Having to read the map and work things out for a change.