I love a slide up and down the blues scale. This feels authentic, and not laboured. The standard of playing is superb. I always find that the blues is all about the mood, and not necessarily the song. They’re just the means in which to hang your emotions. It gets a little guitar wanky in places. Yeah fella, sure you can play. Just play the blues. It’s not a job interview.
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“The Starmer Labour leadership has banned Labour councillors from cooperating with the Greens. Even without that, Lambeth’s ultra-Blairite-controlled Labour group were unlikely to collaborate with Lambeth’s leftish Greens.”
via Worker’s Liberty
The Prime Minister’s estate at Chequers and the footpath that wouldn’t die
via IanVisits
Omar Richards remains a Nottingham Forest player. Despite not playing a game for the club
Drivers kill five people every day. Cyclists hardly kill anybody
via road.cc
A late call-up to add an extra element of muscle for a Wiv Gigs social row on Thursday evening. Ten minutes before leaving the house and it was pissing it down with rain. The bloody Estuary Wilds weather wasn’t looking great. I dithered. I dithered for perhaps a little too long.
I finally made my move and made the short walk down to the Sailing Club. I was, of course, the last crew member to arrive, causing a little confusion. Apologies, Comrades.
It wasn’t all bad news with the bloody Estuary Wilds weather. The rain had subsided slightly and the sun was trying to make an appearance later in the day. My understanding of meteorological conditions isn’t great. But I do know that sun and the rain leads to a rainbow - or even a Madness single.
This was no time for skanking. We had two boats to launch. I headed off down the hard with Varuna. I had already christened this boat the relegation boat, with two West Ham crew members on board. Chances are that it might sink.
I was about to go on board when out came a call for a crew swap. I was seconded to sit in the first bow of Audacity. Extra bonus point as this particular seat in the boat gets to use the brand new oar.
We had a smooth launch. Soon we were heading downstream with the sun in our faces. All crew members had made the basic error of not bringing out the shades.
This was always going to be a short row. Time and tide wasn’t on our side.
We weren’t alone in making the most of the extra light as we approach the Solstice. We passed Defiance who looked at us as though they were all set for a training row.
We had a quick and economical turnaround at Buoy 28. The reflections in the water looked quite stunning. The WOD’s had their candy box cuteness with all the radiant colours on show.
We were a little ahead of time and so took in a brief detour upstream towards Rowhedge. A lone fisherman was dangling his long rod over the Wivenhoe Jetty.
Some pontoon training took place as we had a cox about to be signed off to go solo. Pontoon training is nothing like potty training, although it can get messy. Two successful deckings at the Rowhedge and Wivenhoe public pontoons were ticked off.
The lone cuckoo in Wivenhoe Wood was making a right old racket. I was more concerned about what was to come with the Wednesday evening bloody church bell practise. We recovered and I made it back to base in time before the onslaught.
And so New Bike Day arrived. New Bike Day is the best day.
It was perfect weather conditions for a New Bike Say as well. That’s perfect weather conditions if you don’t plan to ride the New Bike.
It was ideal in that I had to stay in waiting for Mr Delivery Man. He came during a torrential downpour. Now would be a good time to unpack and start to build.
Oh dear. Here’s where the fun starts. I was aware that my purchase of an iScooter U4 didn’t come completely assembled. I have zero mechanical bike skills. All I needed was a clear head, a cup of tea, and an extra strong pair of reading glasses.
Around two hours later I finally emerged triumphant. It wasn’t that technical but if you get the odd slight thing wrong here and there, you could find yourself descending at 40 kmh and something falls off that shouldn’t be falling off.
The first thing I did was to take out the battery and charge it. It was already fully charged. That was a good sign.
Next up was the bike stem. That was simple enough. The most tricky part was attaching the new front wheel and getting it aligned correctly with the disc brakes. I surprised myself at the ease in which I achieved this.
I fiddled around getting the OCD perfection of the bike bell and the throttle installed exactly where I want them. The finishing touch was the seat and the pedals. They were a piece of piss to be honest.
Now I’ve got a fully assembled New Bike. It looks the absolute bollocks. I’m not sure how it will ride but that’s not really the point, as long as it looks good.
Chapeau!
Talk Talk, It’s My Life.
There was so much quality music that I missed out on in the late 80s going into the early 90s. I had been blinded by indie and chose such a narrow musical path to explore.
Of course I was always aware of tracks like It’s My Life through the constant radio airplay, but I never really dived further into their album back catalogues. This would come in later years, hiring out CDs for the local library and recording them onto a TDK D90.
I’ve still got The Colour Of Spring and Spirit Of Eden on cassette, filed away. I’ve also obviously upgraded to CD versions. By this time I was becoming more of a musical snob.
That’s not to say that you need to be a wanky musical snob to appreciate Talk Talk. It’s My Life is a great transition album; it captures them still with a little pop sensitivity as they then embark on all the weirdness that was to follow.
I realised It’s My Life was lacking from my CD collection after a recent Word In Your Ear podcast. The guest was an author who had written a biography all about the band.
I always thought Talk Talk was a crappy name for such a quality band. It’s a shame it got hijacked by a stupid mobile provider.
And so Forest have released their retained list for the 2026-27 Premier League season. First things first - it’s worth saying that again: the 2026-27 Premier League season. We took that for granted almost ten months ago. To have a fifth season competing in the top flight is an outstanding achievement for a club of our size.
There were no great surprises in the retained list. It will be sad to see Willy Bolly leave the club but he has served his purpose. He wasn’t even a bit-part player last season. For a brief spell during the Steve Cooper years he was an unlikely hero, always relied upon to be a calming figure in defence. He was also a great dug-out cheerleader.
No surprises in seeing Angus Gunn depart Forest. It was still a really odd signing this time last year. He was clearly misled in thinking he will be challenging for the goalkeeper’s number one jersey. We saw less than 45 minutes of him playing first-team action.
I’m a little sad to see Stefan Ortega also not be retained. I thought he was magnificent as a Europa League starter. Sadly not having European football next season means it will be a struggle for him to get any game time.
I remember him saying some very fine things about the club and its history after only being around for a few weeks. If you know your history, etc.
I’d forgotten all about Lorenzo Lucca, or Pizza Crouch as he was affectionately known. He wasn’t affectionately known for being a great player. He looked completely out of sorts right from the start. Clearly he was a Dyche signing who never really fitted in once we gambled with Pereira. Thank Gawd we didn’t trigger his 30 million pound or so release clause after he had played x number of minutes.
Looking a little further down the list and some other names that you tend to forget about are still there as retained. David Carmo and Omar Richards have yet to see any first-team action for Forest. It feels like they have been around since the start of the Premier League comeback era, except for the loan periods.
Jota Silva has also been retained. I would love to see him fight for a Forest place once again. He was an absolute dynamite bulldog running around, without really doing much. He’s a complete chaos type of player.
Taiwo has also been retained. That’s an interesting one. I suspect if someone comes in with a cheeky 10 million pounds for a Championship club or a newly promoted Premier League side, then he will be allowed to move on.
Don’t read anything into the fact that Elliot Anderson is still listed as a retained player. I expect to refresh the Forest website and that to change within the next 48 hours.
This all gives me some excitement ahead of the new season. The next step is fixture release day. BALLS to your stupid World Cup.
I’ve always wanted to like Smashing Pumpkins. They’re a band that I feel I should like. For all the melodic interludes, you’re only one riff away from what sounds like hair metal. The quiet / loud thing was done far better by Pixies, and was far cooler as well. The Baldie thing also puts me off - said the man who has had no need to own a comb in the past ten years. You’d rather listen to this than some cock rock, but then I’d rather listen to some Sam Cooke than Smashing Pumpkins. Life choices, innit.
⭐ ⭐
Christ. That was a hack and a half. What was meant to be a simple pruning of the wisteria somehow ended up in a four-hour garden tidy-up. Shit the bed.
I had half an eye on Surrey against Hampshire back at the Oval in the Championship. Tea was about to be taken when I decided to nip outside for a very quick and brief garden tidy-up.
Once I had braved the heights of the scaffolding to prune the wisteria, I was on a roll. I remembered I had another task: hack away at the shitty bamboo slats outside the fence. This will be piss easy, right?
Wrong. Our garden designer wants to see what lies between the slats and the fence itself. Here be dragons etc. Actually it was ivy, BASTARD ivy. I’ve left it there so the garden designer can get triggered and talk us into buying some new fences.
Gardening gloves were needed. I only realised this after I pricked myself half a dozen times with some particularly fiendish thorns on a rose bush. I wouldn’t mind so much but the stupid rose bush never actually flowers. A rose bush with thorns only is a very vindictive species.
I then had the brainwave for a shed reorganisation. Are Surrey still taking the tea interval? I was disturbed by an almighty squeal underneath the garden shed. Daisy soon emerged with a dead bird, right between her jaws. God girl, bad girl.
It was a job well done. I headed back indoors and what do you know? Surrey were in the field making hard work of chasing down a Hampshire score. There were still five overs left to play. It was almost 7 pm. Gardening is not for the faint-minded.
I’ve been up the scaffolding. Oh dear. The scaffolding really shouldn’t still be here by now. We have been encased around our back passage for over two months. Trying to pinpoint the exact place where a leaking roof is letting in water is a lot trickier than you think.
Summertime, the wisteria and scaffolding is not a great combination. We were told by the tree expert to enjoy one last summer of the BEAST of a wisteria before it is chopped early autumn. It has outlived its purpose and its footprint.
So much for enjoying the wisteria. The scaffolding went up one week, and then the wisteria blooms started to emerge the next. It was all under cover and in disguise for the brief blossoming period for its one last stand.
Now we reached that time in the wisteria cycle where the green wisps and shoots start to accelerate almost day by day whenever there has been a downpour. Wisterias love something to hold on to. The scaffolding is making for the ideal makeshift pergola.
So that’s why I’ve been up the scaffolding. It’s two stories high and I’m scared of heights. What could possibly go wrong?
The view was quite stunning but I didn’t dare look. I was too busy with my secateurs, clip, clip, clipping away at the wisteria.
I came down from the structure and had a charming conversation with a local coffin dodger. “You’ve got a lovely garden,” she observed. I then went into a bit of a potty mouth rant about the scaffolding.
Fuck this shit, etc.
This time next year hopefully there will be no scaffolding and I very much doubt there will be any wisteria either. Make the most of it whilst you can, we were told.
Push it, push it real good. I pushed it real good for the run on Tuesday lunchtime. I ummed and aahed over whether to set off and pound the mean streets of C07. Today is new bike day. New bike day is the best day. I’m waiting for delivery of my new electric model. To run or not to run? If in doubt just bloody do it.
I reasoned that I could spare 20 minutes out of my stay-at-home day to get in a quick lap of Wivenhoe. Always back yourself with these kind of odds, Jase.
As ever, I’m still unsure about the calf injury that may or may not still be an actual injury. The plan was to take it easy. But I can never take it easy when out running.
After the first minute or so I started to panic about new bike day and my shiny new toy arriving. Time to put my foot down on the Lidl cheapo carbon running shoes and leg it around the town as fast as I could.
I felt really strong on the downward slope, heading down the High Street. Three friendly waves of familiar faces took place. I often think other people must think me most strange when out running. All those endorphins kick in and you’ll smile at any old fucker. Maybe they just think I’m strange anyway?
Fifteen minutes earlier and there had been a torrential downpour around the estuary wilds. Now I was down by the quayside under glorious blue Big Essex skies. I pounded it like a demon along the quayside front.
I think I’m about ready for a return to parkrun, although I did feel the same this time last week and bottled it last Saturday. Here’s hoping the new bike has arrived by the weekend.
