A bag of Wind

I wrote such a long and provocative thought about the wonders of wine and then the internet ate it and never regurgitated for me. [as you see i've found it so don't mind that pissed off piece ]

So sod that. Here's a piece about football instead. And the happy tale about 22 men on approximately 120x100yards of turf kicking a bag of wind for extortionate sums of money.
I am watching, sorta, the semi final of the Champions League match between Manchester 'scum' United and Barce' you cheated in the final the other year' lona being played at the latter's Nou Camp.
Now, i like football (the Yankeedoodles have a problem with that reference so call it soccer... sommat to do with the term Association ::shoulder shrug::) but it frustrates me on so very many levels.
Where do i begin?
1. the wages
2. the facial expressions if someone dares look at them the right way
3. the faux innocence
4. the writhing on the floor in agony.
Anyone who knows anything about a genuinely bad injury is that the last thing you'll do is make any unnecessary movemnets (watch a video of Eduardo da Silva's horrendous injury when playing for Arsenal vs Brum earlier this year - he hardly moved once he hit the deck)
5. the tripping over a blade of grass that the ground staff have failed to cut to the required centimetreage

That'll do.
This, after all, is a game. Yes it's great to support a team (or two or three) but let's not get our underwear in a twist.
Whilst i may refer to Man U in less than endearing terms i do not loathe them.
Whilst i may support Arsenal i do not love them. And whilst it's sad when they lose and throw away a whole season right at the end it is ONLY a game.
These people have no direct bearing on the health and well-being of the world around them.
Yes seeing your number one player visiting your ward when you're suffering from some horrible disease is great and famous faces bring in money to hospitals and hospices, blah blah blah but they don't save lives. And, when they have so much money given to them for kicking around a bag of wind then, quite honestly, so they bloody should hand over significant wads of dosh.
Earlier this evening, the talented Mr Cristiano Ronaldo screwed up a penalty. The goalmouth was gaping wide and he missed.
Now, despite the sarcasm, he is a talented player but he gets paid a fortune to fk up that which he is paid to do.
If i fk up what i am paid to do then a few things can happen.
1. i get away with it
2. i get fired
3. someone dies
4. i go to prison
5. i fall on my gerbers

I know the world will never be a fair place but come on this is getting out of hand.
The money and all the rest that footballers receive is, to put it simply, obscene.

I don't say that high pay to any sportsman is justified. It isn't but footballers just seem to go nowhere near earning it.
Cricketers don't get anywhere near what footballers have yet they can play cricket for 5 days back to back.
Rugby players (union and league) crash into each other for roughly 80 minutes and then buy each other drinks in the bar afterwards. If someone hurts them they shrug it off, shake their heads and get on ( and wreak revenge... but anyway -)

What price 22 men (+ subs) and three officials running around a field for 90 minutes for X thousands of quid... against an AMI (Acute Myocardial Infarction) sufferer being attended to by two people earning roughly £11 - 15 an hour (gross)?
there's unfair and then, there's unfair and, more to point, NOT RIGHT!

Result?... Barcelona 0 Manchester United 0.
FFS!

Wine

Alco-pops... no thank you.

White Lightning... even bigger no thank you.

John Smiths Bitter... ychafy!

Glass of red?

Ribena when driving.

Wine if i'm not - preferably of the New World.

Now Anton Dvorak wrote a great piece (his New World Symphony). Think how much better it might've been if he'd been around to sample the delights of the Napa valley et al.

I have drunk some lovely french and italian and spanish reds but my heart lies with that produced from the USA and Australia. Now and again i venture into the territory of South African or South American. Chilean vineyards have a good rep. And i sampled a very tasty Argentinian rose last night.

I was at a dinner last night. Hence my considering what moves my tastebuds.

It was a BYO evening and, of the 6 adults at the table, five brought new world(4 red, 1 rose) wines.

Oxford Landing (merlot), Wolfblass Yellow Label (Cab Sauv), E & J Gallo x 2 (grapes not spotted) and the Argentinian (Mendoza).

A friend from another table entreated me to sample his french. "It's quite dry," he said as i sipped. Yikes!

It reinforced my lack of faith in the old world wines. Maybe i need to get some of that Cuvee from Citie Europe. Too drinkable really ;0)

It's not that i don't drink white it's that i prefer red. Europe seems to have a better choice of white than red. A nice Orvieto goes down very well with some tasty chicken. Having said that I am not one of those officiandos ( i'm not an officiando at all!) who believes that white meat and fish should be complimented with white. And red for red meat. Whatever works for your palette is the way to be.

Quite honestly, i believe there is no room for snobbery in alcohol.

You can the most expensive bubbly or the cheapest vino and it'll do the same thing to you if you imbibe too much. And the result could leave you with your head staring into a space that another part of your anatomy will see more often!

Alcohol. No respector of who or what you are. You abuse it and it will be the winner!

Cheers

[i dug this out 3 weeks after the event and i, subsequently, have a nice Orvieto lined up for drinking in my kitchen right now]

Whirlybirds

The more dealings I have with helicopters the more they fascinate me. Forget ambulance-chasing try chasing Air Ambulances. In the main, in the UK, they are red. A few, like those in Yorkshire, are yellow. So, whichever their colour, they stand out. And they make a lovely sound as the air shudders and vibrates. Certain helicopters have very distinctive sounds. The easiest of all to recognise is the military CHINOOKs with the twin rotar system. Not nicknamed Wokka Wokkas for nothing. The whole ground shakes when they're about.

I've also been under a RAF SARS Seaking (also yellow) and it loosened the rubber-doings that help seal windscreens. A colleague and I had to hold on firmly to our work's motor as it...she ( All motors are SHEs to me)... bounced about due to the downforce from the Seaking. It took weeks before the last of the dust was cleansed from the motor. It felt like almost as many weeks to rid it from me!

The RAF also use Gazelle and they carry a high-pitch whine that's unmistakeable.

Quieter are the MD (MacDonnell Douglas) Explorers that some of the police use as they do not have a tail-rotor.(system referred to as NOTAR)

http://www.mdhelicopters.com/gallery/MDExplorerPix/pas1.jpg

This a great pic of the Wiltshire Police chopper but, if you look, it also has the Crown badge of the Uk Ambulance Service as the two work together.

In Wales, there are 3 police choppers but they're all different.

In North Wales they have a Eurocopter EC-135.

South Wales and Gwent have a Eurocopter EC13T2i

and Dyfed-Powys have, I think, an Augusta 109Power.

For the time being, the Welsh Ambulance Service uses three Bolkow 105s.

Next on the list are the EC-135s

Below that site will show what's being flown by the police and ambulance services around Britain.

http://www.gloster.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/based.htm

I don't know why they hold such a fascination. I love the way they can manoeuvre, they way they sound and even the smell of the Avgas.

So now, with camera to hand, if i hear that vibration of the airwaves i try to get a picture of something buzzing about... be it red or yellow or whatever.

Say hello to Helimed 59, who operates out from Welshpool International Airport

In honour of...

... that young feller-me-lad who finally, and unwittingly, kicked me buttock region into starting this 'ere blog.
I've done some half-hearted blogs but they get lost in the mists of time and myspace so thought it was time to do 'a proper one'.
So... diolch yn fawr to the chap who loiters, interestingly, in the Mobox!
- although i am trying to convince him that not all good things happen to people who hang about Paddington. Nuff said

I barely watch the news these days so it tends to be more luck than judgement if i become aware that a nuclear explosion has decimated half the human population of planet Earth (no Duran Duran please)
I catch the headlines from my ISPs homepage and that's about. Anything which contains the term 'celebrity' effects an immediate CLUNK as my wee cell switches into saver energy mode.
Forgive me but who on earth gets kicks from keeping abreast (hmm yes well) of the likes of Jordan or Posh or... or... am sure there's another name out there in Celebland but it escapes me.
People! This is your life. Do not be living vicariously through the precarious lives of the well-known who are, usually, known for no known reason - if you catch my drift.

In peaceful mad Wales we have glorious sunshine as I type. This, inevitably, brings out the suburban-frustrates.
No one could ever be referred to as suburban where I live. Sub-human, sub-sheep, sub-rabbit... ie. sub-rural which sits between rural and sparsely populated.
So anyne carrying typically suburban activities here must be viewed as frustrates.. or wannabees.
Of course, many would say the word should be TIDY. Your choice but I'm sure there's a point where one's lawn must become too manicured.
I, on the other hand, am happy with my sprawl of rhubarb in which lives the black panther of Powys and the postage stamp of wasteland that sits between it and the back door.

I'm clock-watching now as Tescos will be here anytime between... 1900 and 2100.
Yes even small parts of ultra rural/sub-rural can have their groceries delivered to their doorstep but they are the only ones who do deliver c/o the online system in the area. Shame cos i quite fancy a bit of Sainsbury's and they do nice coffee amongst other things.

Next. cat feeding and Desperate Housewives

The start

Trust me. I kick off in the evening and just as everything is set up i realise that my eyes are tired and i could do with resting them... like in front of the tele. or such like. Ok ok maybe that's not really resting them but my wee brain cell needs to deactivate as well.
And i don't think i've finished watching Neighbours.
Well come on, it's light but real. How else am i gonna know how people live down under?
Pobol Y Cwm's real as well... innit? unlike that Corrie and 'enders bolox.
I really should've done this hours ago but what with chatting to the local Yoof Group and sorting out a pressie for one of my mate's who enters her prime next week and spending tokens on maps. Tokens that were a present to me for my 40th... hmm! and that wasn't so recent either.
Ah yes. How the other half lives.
that'll do for now.
How disciplined i shall be is another matter entirely.

Nos Da!