FYI

Whenever a friendship ends, no matter what the circumstances, I still grieve for what's been lost. Even if it ends in betrayal and abuse, I still feel sad. Maybe that's a fault of mine, maybe it's a strength - who knows...
I have many faults and weaknesses of my own. I do however, have very high standards when it comes to behaviour towards others. Respect, empathy, honesty and love for people, animals and the environment are things I treasure.


So, there's some stuff people should know about me, if they're going to call me a friend.

I'm an incredibly tolerant person. By that I mean I truly believe that everyone is entitled to their beliefs, loves, fears, religions, quirks, habits and sense of humour. (Unless you're a racist, sexist bigot, but then we wouldn't be friends anyway.) I may not share those things with you, but I'll certainly respect them (and expect you to do the same in return). The things that make us different are sometimes the things that make us interesting. What I don't mean by tolerant is, yeah go ahead, take advantage of my good nature and fuck me over.

I'm a very loyal friend. I've got your back. It would be nice to think you'll have mine too. My number one loyalty however is, and always will be, to my best friend, my husband. Nothing and no-one can or will ever make me do anything to hurt, manipulate, deceive or trick him. Don't EVER ask me to - you'll be making a big mistake. Whatever you tell me, you're telling him too. We share all our secrets, we read each other's emails, we know each other's passwords. It's me and him against the world - or that's how it often feels.

I dislike confrontation intensely. I'll do pretty much anything to avoid it (see above). I will defend my point of view and beliefs though. I'll tolerate a lot from people (more than most people you'll meet), but if you do something that I find fundamentally immoral, expect me to speak up. Don't mistake my lack of debate as acceptance of your views. Some things simply aren't worth debating. I won't try to change you - don't try to change me.

I'm WAY too emotional for my own good. I cry at films, books, songs, soap operas, people, views, memories - you name it. I get emotionally involved with my friends. I'm not into those slap on the back, shallow, only there when times are good friendships. I'll want to know how you are, who you are, how you feel and what's going on in your head. Don't mistake my emotions for weakness.

I'm generous - maybe not always with money, but my time is always available for my friends. I'll do whatever I can to help a friend, whether it's a non-judgemental shoulder to cry on or ear to bend, or something more tangible. I give freely of myself, it's the only thing I have to give freely.

So with all that stuff going on, you'd think things would be plain sailing, wouldn't you? Funny that. It seems that some people see my tolerance as me being a push-over, my acceptance of others as me being an easy target and my loyalty as an excuse to take the piss.
One thing you should remember. I'll do all of that stuff above, BUT, if you ever fuck with me or someone I love, it'll be the only chance you get. If you're not a decent human being then I don't want to know you and I WILL cut you out of my life - cold.

• Life is WAY too short. Surround yourself with people you love and who love you back. 
• Think about how what you're about to say will make the other person feel - before you say it. Never say things you don't mean, even (and especially) in anger.
• Remember to look up and enjoy the sky, the trees, the landscape. Listen to bird song, waterfalls and music. Be creative, paint, draw, play, sing. 
• Don't be a victim of life - it's what you make of it. If you're not happy or fulfilled, CHANGE things. Only you can do this. Don't wait for someone else, you'll be disappointed.

The wee man done good

A friend and ex-colleague, who quit his job to go and sit on Scottish hilltops looking at birds (sorry, "surveying wildlife") is also, it turns out, a rather bloody good writer. Who knew?

His first novel "In Many Ways" was a highly entertaining story of scumbags in Glasgee, violence and bad language. All my favourite things! It's a download only book, available from Amazon. 1,000 downloads and counting. It's less than a quid - go, buy it.

Pete's second novel will be released on 10th March 2012. It's called "Pandora's Pitbull" and I can vouch for it right off the bat. I was lucky enough to be asked to proof-read the book, which I gladly did, so I've had a good preview. No doubt the finished story will be a bit different from the one I read, what with inevitable amendments, re-writes - the usual stuff that editing involves, so I look forward to reading it all over again.

Follow Pete's blog and you can read the stuff that spills out of his heed too.
http://petercarroll.ravencrestbooks.com/

Biryani and back fat

For the few people who don't know already, I'm on a diet. I've been doing Weightwatchers since August 2011. In those 7 months I've lost just over 3 stone (that's about 30 lbs for my American readers). I've also reduced my waist by 13 inches! I've had to abandon several pairs of trousers because they're too big now, and I had to buy a new belt because I ran out of holes to tighten the old one up by. My bras just hold my boobs now, instead of my boobs plus a load of icky back fat. Things aren't constantly trying to escape any more.
This is ALL good.

There's still a long way to go, but I'm getting there.

The main change I've made to my diet is avoiding eating crap. I have a messed up love/hate relationship with food. The only way it works for me is abstinence. I'm just not capable of moderation. It's taken every single bit of my will power to walk past the constant supply of biscuits, cakes, doughnuts, chocolates and sweets at work and not dive in. It's strategically placed so I have to walk past it to get away from my desk. It's not been easy, but I know me and I know my total lack of control. I'm really proud of what I've achieved so far. It hasn't been easy, yet it has...

The easy part has been working with the Weightwatchers points system. Once you get into it, it becomes second nature. Admittedly, you do have to get a little bit obsessed - one might even say anal. It's the best way to make it work. If you're prepared to 'get with the programme' it does work. I find myself looking at a chocolate digestive now and thinking 'it's not worth it' because it'll mean my options for dinner will be limited.

So I've changed the way I cook too. I measure things. It's all about portion control. The good news is I'm not sitting around hungry all the time. It takes a little work and a little imagination, but I'm a good cook and I'm really good at winging it and making stuff up as I go along. It mostly turns out well. The problem is usually trying to remember what I did, when I try something new.
So, in that spirit, here's tonight's recipe for vegetable biryani. I'd had a bit of a relapse today and at a bag of crisps and 4 biscuits, so I only had 10 points left for dinner. Yikes! That's not many points. But I managed to pull this delicious meal out of the bag and it's so tasty and filling, for only 10 points that I want to remember how I made it - and share it with you.

If, like me, you love curry, this is a great way to get a curry hit, without breaking the points bank.
Great for vegetarians and vegans too.

Vegetable biryani (serves 2)
180g basmati rice
100g frozen mixed vegetables (I used a mixture of peas, sweetcorn, carrot, red pepper & brocolli)
1/2 tsp olive oil
6 mushrooms - quartered
6 cherry tomatoes - sliced
2 cloves garlic - finely chopped
1 medium onion - chopped
A few sultanas

Make spicy curry stock with:
600ml boiling water
Vegetable stock cube
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tsp each of chilli powder, cumin, coriander, turmeric, hot paprika, mustard seeds
1tsp tomato puree

Grease an ovenproof dish or bowl with the olive oil.
Place the rice in the dish, followed by the onion, garlic, mushrooms, mixed veg, sultanas and sliced tomatoes.
Pour over the stock.
Cook uncovered for 40 minutes at 200C (or until rice is cooked and all the stock has been absorbed).
Stir half way through cooking.

I like my food quite spicy. Cut down on the chilli powder if you prefer yours on the milder side.
You can really play around with this recipe. Try different veggies, or you could add some chunks of pineapple and flaked almonds if you want. You could also use a couple of teaspoons of curry paste instead of all the dried spices.

Cornbread recipe

If you've never tried cornbread, you don't know what you're missing. Next time you're having chilli for dinner, try this. It's so darned tasty. The yummy combination of slightly sweet with hints of cheese and the chilli heat is fantastic. This is a tweaked recipe that I found online and made my own. It makes a really nice moist but crumbly cornbread.

2 servings - this actually makes 4 generous chunks of cornbread

50g butter, melted
65g white sugar
1 egg
1 green jalapeno chilli, finely chopped
40g grated cheddar
40g plain flour
45g cornmeal (Should be easy to find. I managed to buy a big bag from Tesco for 99p)
5g baking powder
pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 150C.
Grease and line an overproof dish.

In a large bowl beat together the melted butter and sugar, then beat in the egg.
Blend in the chopped chilli and grated cheese.

In a separate smaller bowl stir together the plain flour, cornmeal, baking powder and salt.
Add this dry mix to the wet mix and stir until smooth.

Pour the batter into the ovenproof dish and bake for 50-60 mins.
After 50 minutes test with a cocktail stick - if it comes out clean, the cornbread is ready. If not, return to the oven for another 5-10 minutes.

The best damned salsa EVER!

I recently discovered this recipe for salsa and I have to say it's the best I've ever had (and I've had a few). So I thought I'd share.

It takes a while to take, but it's totally worth the effort.

Makes a cup of salsa

4 plum tomatoes (fresh, whole)

2 cloves of garlic (whole, with skins still on)

1 large jalapeno pepper (whole, leave stalk on)

1 large tablespoon chopped coriander

1/2 white onion (finely chopped and rinsed in cold water)

Juice of 1/2 lime (use a fresh lime, not bottled juice for best flavour)

Pinch of sea salt

Heat a large, heavy-bottomed frying pan over a high heat.

Place the tomatoes, garlic and chilli in the dry frying pan and dry-roast until they are blackened, blistered and soft.

Remove and discard the stalk from the chilli and the skin from the garlic. Pound them to a rough paste in a pestle & mortar.

Add the tomatoes to the pestle & mortar and work them into the chilli paste. If all the tomatoes won't fit at once, do them in batches. Leave as many chunks as you want in your salsa.

Put all the tomatoes, chilli and garlic into a bowl. Add the chopped coriander, onion, lime juice and salt and mix it all together.

Life and death

I just realised, I keep forgetting to use this blog when interesting or blog-worthy stuff happens. Must do better.

It was the week after all the riots and looting in London (which sadly also spread to other parts of the country). The news was depressing, yet strangely compelling - perhaps due to its constant bombardment 24 hours a day. I didn't want to see, but I couldn't stop watching. Any small glimmer of faith I'd had in humanity had ebbed away over that weekend. Seeing the mindless damage and violence killed me a little inside.
I had to get away and be somewhere far from the constant barrage of sorrow. I'm an empathic person. What is done to others affects me deeply. It's my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. So seeing all this stuff happening really got me down.

We had the week off work and it would be all too easy to sit and watch the news all day every day. Not good for the soul. That's what it was - my soul needed some fresh air. My default place when I really need to reconnect with what's important is the sea. It doesn't matter where I am, so long as I can get close to the sea. There's something very special indeed about the sound, the movement, the smell, the oxygen charged air and the wildlife that you only find in that magical combination when you stand on the shore. Looking out to a seemingly never-ending horizon, the breakers wash away every care I have in the world and in those moments, nothing else matters. I needed that.

We headed to Norfolk, driving along the coast road from Hunstanton all the way down to Cley Marshes. After visiting all the hides, we walked up to the beach. It's a shingle beach, so you hear the sea long before you see it. There were some impressive waves breaking and a stiff sea breeze - perfect.

After a brilliant day we finally headed home, taking a more positive outlook with us. The journey home was pleasant. We stopped off at the supermarket to get some dinner and we were 1/2 a mile from home at 9pm when...

As you enter our village there are double hump-backed bridges. The bridges are narrow - single lane. I know how dangerous they can be, so I always drive over them very slowly. We had passed over the first bridge and were starting onto the second when I saw headlights coming the other way. We were already on the bridges, and there was a car immediately behind me also on the bridges, so we had right of way. In the time it took for me to first see the headlights come around the corner it was only a matter of seconds. The guy must have been going pretty fast as I didn't have time to get off the second bridge. I remember shouting 'He's not slowing down!' hitting the brakes and coming to a stop. He seemed to realise something wasn't quite right, as he braked momentarily, but then accelerated at the last moment - straight at us. 

Maybe he thought he'd just go ahead anyway, maybe he was being pig-headed and thought I should get out of his way - I don't know. All I know is that when he hit us, it's a sound I'll never forget. Thankfully, he hit the wall of the bridge first, which took some of the energy out of the impact. He hit the wall with enough force to trash it. He's lucky he didn't end up in the river. If he'd hit us first I don't know if I'd be sitting here typing this now...

My first reaction was to get out of the car as quickly as possible. I had no idea how bad the damage was and I was terrified that the car might catch fire. I tumbled out onto the ground. Only at this point did the pain hit me. My neck was bruised and burned by the seat belt and oh my god, the pain in my chest was excruciating. Boobs and seat belts DON'T GO. I honestly felt around to check whether my left breast was still attached - it felt like it had been ripped off my body.

The guy who hit us was apologising profusely and saying he wasn't familiar with the road. Like that's an excuse. Surely if you don't know a road you should slow down and be more careful. He was either driving his dad's car or a work car - I'm not sure which. He was on his way home from a training course (I wonder if he's insured for business use?) and had followed a diversion because the A1 was closed. Then he'd detoured from the official diversion and was following his sat nav. I can only guess that he was looking at the sat nav instead of the road, or maybe he just wasn't looking at all.

The woman in the car behind us (who agreed to be a witness for me) called for the police and an ambulance, as I was sitting on the floor in agony, crying and a bit hysterical. While we were waiting for the police to arrive a very 'charming' man who was one of the people stuck in the traffic jam which had built up on either side of the bridges wandered over and asked if I was planning on moving my car any time soon, as it was very inconvenient. I told him in no uncertain terms exactly what I thought of him and that nothing was getting moved anywhere until the authorities had arrived. What a wanker! He didn't care that I was hurt, that I was upset, just that I was in his way. There goes my faith in humanity AGAIN...

The other driver claimed there were no warning signs, so he had no idea there was a narrow bridge ahead. Utter bullshit - he just didn't see the very clear warning signs. I went back the next day to take pictures for the insurance company.

This all happened on the Tuesday, at the beginning of our holiday week. Needless to say, the rest of our holiday was destroyed, along with my car. Wednesday was spent having the car taken away, getting a loan car sorted and visiting the doctor to get some pain killers. They told me it would hurt more the next day and boy they weren't kidding. The rest of the week was all about finding new bruises every day and various parts of me hurting to various degrees.

Even now, 3 weeks later I still have to go back to the doctor again. I've been getting sharp pains in my knees (which hit the dashboard) and they're making crunchy noises that they didn't used to make.

About a week after the crash I got the call I was dreading - the car was a write-off. Gutted doesn't even start to describe it. I loved that car. It was the first car I'd ever had that didn't have it in for me. It was reliable and hadn't had any problems. It was in really good condition too. I'm still in mourning for her.

I also found out something I didn't know. When you're involved in a crash that was absolutely not your fault and your car is destroyed, the money the insurance company will give you is nowhere near enough to buy another car. Hmmm - came as a bit of a shock to me.

So I'm out of pocket, through no fault of my own. I've had to buy another car, which has cost me personally £1000 (on top of the insurance money). The other unseen cost is my confidence, which will take a long time to find again.

Thanks for that, tosser who hit me.

The only good thing to come out of this whole nasty experience is the utter relief I feel that Mark wasn't hurt in the accident. If anything ever happened to him, if he was ever hurt, while he was a passenger in my car, I don't think I could cope with that. I'd rather be burt myself than be responsible (whether at fault or not) for hurting him. 

I take driving very seriously. I'm acutely aware that I'm responsible for the lives of anyone in my car and those around me. I never take risks, I drive within the speed limit, I pay close attention. Some people may think that's boring, but I don't give a shit about what they think. 

In Many Ways - by Peter Carroll

A friend wrote this book and initially asked me to plug it to help him out. Rather than just plug it for that reason, and because it's a measly 86p to download it from Amazon, I thought I'd buy it and give it a whirl. I downloaded the free Kindle App so I can read it on my laptop and started reading this morning, not knowing what to expect.


I'm totally hooked! It's a brilliant read. The characters are so well described I feel like I know those dodgy Scottish geezers (not that I'd want to).

So I'm recommending this book, not because I know the guy, but on its own merits. If you fancy a really good read, get this. Simples...


Here's a quick synopsis:
In “In Many Ways”, a young man is abducted and mutilated for talking out of turn, and a policeman is murdered as a result – all in a day’s work for Danny O’Neill, Scotland’s most notorious gangster.
Meanwhile, small-time drug dealer and shop worker Davie Argyle has just crossed O’Neill’s path. Davie has been waiting a long time for this. He needs to swallow his pride and convince O’Neill to trust him. Thing is, can he stay alive long enough for his plan to work?
Torture, murder, rock n roll and bloody revenge ensue as pasts unfurl and long-held secrets reveal themselves.


http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B005JLO9ZC/ravencrestboo-21

Ikea

Our new chairs were delivered this morning - just.
When we bought them, we measured the chairs in the shop to make sure they'd fit through the door. What we didn't know though was that they'd arrive in a box the size of a small car.

So the Ikea lorry turns up this morning - bang on time (credit where it's due) and the boxes won't fit through the door. So Mrs Practical here says 'Take them out of the boxes then.' (Yeah, I know - duuuuurrr). Their response was nothing short of horror and went something like this:
'We can't take them out of the boxes.'
'Why not?'
'Because if we do and they still don't fit, we'll have to leave them here, outside.'
'What?'
'Once they're out of the box, you've accepted delivery of them.'
'I know they'll fit, we measured them before we bought them.'
'But what if we damage them? If we scratch them, we have to pay for them.'
'Are you professionals who know what they're doing?'
'Yes'
'Well then, I trust you to carry two chairs into the house without the box. Take them out of the boxes.'
'We're not allowed.'
'FINE - I'll take them out of the boxes then.' Goes to get scissors to open boxes.
'Yeah but, what if they get damaged?'
'FINE - I'll carry them into the house on my own then shall I, while you watch?' Losing my rag now...

So they relented, because I think they might have picked up that I was not going to accept this lame excuse, and they carried them into the house. Guess what? They fitted through the door just fine, like I knew they would.

Honestly, is everyone SO determined to cover their arses against everything and everyone these days that it's got to this situation? I mean, really...
I understand that these blokes were just following the rules, I was annoyed with the rules - they just happened to be in the line of fire.

Sheesh....

I have no love for Valentine's Day

When I was a kid, I used to get one or two Valentine's cards each year. They'd always be unsigned and anonymous. Part of the fun was trying to work out who fancied you. :-)

It was a wonderful opportunity to anonymously declare your feelings for someone who wasn't aware they were the object of someone's affection. That was the whole point of Valentine's Day - wasn't it?

These days it's 100% commercial. We're bombarded with cheap, tacky, red merchandise for weeks in advance and everyone has these huge, expensive expectations thrust upon them.

Sales of vomit-inducing teddy bears wearing t-shirts that say "I wuv you" soar. Restaurants charge extortionate amounts for what is normally a set menu and cheap bottle of fake champagne. Flowers are suddenly double their usual price and everyone is expected to buy all this stuff regardless - because if you don't, it means you don't care. Bullshit.

I honestly can't believe that everyone just goes along with what is so obviously just marketing. Tell your loved one that you love them on any other day. Buy them flowers and chocolates or take them out to dinner, just because YOU thought of it. Don't wait for someone to tell you when to show you care. It's 100% more impressive if you do it off your own back.

Open you heart - not your wallet.

A friend in need

My friend Bill is one of the most caring, kind and generous people I've ever met.
As well as being involved in his local church and community, and working full time for a conservation charity, he also runs a little place called Cafe Mocha.

Cafe Mocha is run on a not-for-profit basis. It's main aim is to help people who have been out of work, through physical or mental illness, back into work and to offer a community gathering place, for people to meet, enjoy a coffee, get support and make news friends.

On Saturday night, some mindless drunken idiot broke one of the windows of Bill's beloved cafe. It's going to cost him out of his own pocket to get it fixed - but we can help.
A small donation (absolutely anything helps) would be a great help to Bill and the team at Cafe Mocha.
If you'd like to help, please send a donation via paypal to paypal@cafemocha.org.uk

Bill would never dream of asking for help like this, but I can't think of anyone who has earned it more. He's a constant source of inspiration to me, a great friend to many people and a credit to humanity.

Album of the year / Album of the decade

As it's getting close to the end of the year and the end of the decade, Mark asked me earlier what are my album of 2010 and album of the noughties. I had to think about it for a whole 20 seconds. So, if you're interested, here are mine.

Album of the year 2010
This was a quick decision. Without doubt it has to be Blood/Candy by The Posies. Nothing else released this year has grabbed me by the throat, heart and soul like this one.

What an amazing musical trip! It's adventurous, crossing and mixing styles not only throughout the album, but within the songs themselves on occasion too. There are moments where, to my mind, I can hear reference to Brendan Benson, Nada Surf, Beach Boys, The Beatles etc etc - but it never 'sounds like' those artists. The Posies always manage to create something unique to them. They are their own sound.

My personal favourites on Blood/Candy are So Caroline, She's Coming Down Again, Cleopatra Street and Notion 99. That's not to say that I like those a LOT more than other songs on the album, they're just my favourites. It took me a while to get into Licenses To Hide, but once I'd heard it live, I 'got it' and now really enjoy listening to it.

This much anticipated (by me at least) return, after a 5 year break since their last album, was worth every minute of the wait. I never thought I'd say it, but I honestly think this is their best album ever (so far). I say so far because who knows what they'll come up with next...

Album of the decade 2000-2010
Slightly more difficult to decide this one. There has been some cracking music released in the last 10 years. It's heartening to know that music ISN'T dead. It's alive and kicking, but struggling for breath in the world of downloads for free and a music industry twitching in its death throws. Honourable mention to Doves and Radiohead, who have both made some exceptional music in the last 10 years, as have many other artists.
So in true top anything style - I've chosen not one, but two albums, because I think they score equally and I can't choose between them.

I'm judging this not on technical perfection (though in my opinion my choices are both pretty close to perfection). I'm not judging it on what anyone else thinks, or how popular or successful the album was. Tish and pish to that! I'm judging this purely on how many times I've felt inspired to listen to this album. Whenever I look to our music collection to entertain me, or my iPod to take me away from it all, these two albums have consistently been first choice, over and over again. And it's testament to the music that I've NEVER got bored of hearing them. That I can still be moved to tears or find something new in a song I've heard many times before is all I need to make my choices. So here they are.

Songs From The Year Of Our Demise by Jon Auer

Every hour of every day of every year that Jon Auer laboured over his solo album can be heard in the finished article. Every tear, every bead of sweat is somehow reproduced in these stunningly beautiful songs. I listen to this album at least once a week. It takes me from tears to a massive grin and everything in between - every time. Every emotion gets a look-in. It's a treasure.

Magnetic North by Iain Archer

From the very first song, the very first time I saw Iain Archer perform live (purely by accident, but what a beautiful accident) I was utterly enthralled. I'll never, ever forget standing in front of him as he played this wonderful, intelligent music, while all the 'cool kids' totally ignored him. Magnetic North is an achingly beautiful collection of songs that sometimes punch you in the eye and sometimes give you a warm loving hug. The musicianship is something to behold and his fragile voice, sometimes on the verge of breaking is just mesmerising. Again, once a week at least this gets a spin and I never tire of hearing it - far from it.

Amsterdam - 9th October

Up and at 'em early after a decent night's sleep and onto the packed 10am train to Brussels. Another beautiful sunny day. THIS is what life is all about - adventures, new places, new friends.
:-)
One of the weirdest things we saw on our trip was on this journey. Matilda spotted it and pointed out the window. In the middle of a field full of cows, there was one cow, obviously very dead, lying upside down with all four legs sticking up in the air. Bizarre... As a vegetarian, I guess I shouldn't have found this amusing, but it was - so ner.
We passed hooker street again, approaching Brussels Nord. Even at 11am the windows are populated by the day shift skanks. I wonder what the girls they keep in the back look like?

We thought we'd have to wait over an hour for our connecting train to Amsterdam, but when we arrived there was a train leaving in 15 minutes only 2 platforms down. Result.
It's a 3 hour journey from Brussels to Amsterdam, but the time flew by and soon we were back in the city we loved so much on our previous trip (a very cold 24 hours in January 2006, funnily enough for a Posies show). This time it was glorious and warm and heaving with people. I was bloody starving by this point. It was mid afternoon and I hadn't eaten yet, so I grabbed a slice of pizza at the station and snarfed it super-quick. It was sooooo good.
It was quite a shock, after spending the past few days in relatively quiet places, to be suddenly thrust into such a throng of people. It's a manic place.
We found our hotel, only 5 minutes walk from the station, got checked in (decent room), then headed out into the late afternoon sunshine.

The real beauty of Amsterdam is that it can be anything you want it to be. It can be a drug-fuelled haze, a trip for seedy unspeakables, a tourist bonanza or just a nice place full of art and culture. It's kind of up to the individual. That's what I like about it, apart from the fact that it's a really beautiful and friendly place.

We walked down to Leidseplein, parked our bums in some seats and enjoyed some quality people-watching over a coffee. It's a great way to kill time. Another quick wander around the surrounding streets then it was time to head to the venue, Sugar Factory. It's the sister venue to the Melkwegg - right across the street. We got our tickets sorted and immediately bumped into an old friend, Carsten. It was so nice to see him after 4 years or so. He'd come from Germany for the show. Amsterdam was our last show on the tour, and Carsten's first. He was going to the next 6 shows, I think. Lucky boy.

We headed inside, bagged a spot at the front, had a drink and a good chat as the place gradually filled up around us. There was a lot of confusion about what time The Posies were supposed to be onstage during the day, so we were a little concerned at how few people were there at the time they were supposed to be starting. Of course, nothing ever quite goes to plan and they ended up starting later, and by then, the place was pretty well packed. Yay!
What a cracking gig! The crowd were great, really into it. The band were really into it and obviously having a good time. They put a lot of energy into the show and I finally got some half-decent photos at this one too (despite the red lights).

Boing!

After the encore, Jon and Ken grabbed the box of CDs and went off to sell merch, while Matt and Darius grabbed the nearest alcohol available. After a couple of minutes it became very obvious that this crowd were NOT going to let the night be over without a fight (in a good way). They just kept clapping, whistling and screaming. Jon and Ken had to come back to the stage and do one more song, which was a real treat.  You Avoid Parties, played so sweetly, it brought a tear to many an eye.
We had a fun chat with Jon's friends from New Mexico again (whose names I STILL can't remember). They were having a great time, totally enjoying their retirement and had bravely cycled around Amsterdam.

Outside the venue, it was time for lengthy goodbyes and many hugs all round. Jon gave us a bottle of wine and told us to "Let it breathe". Ha! All too soon we all went our separate ways, heading into the Amsterdam night. I managed not to cry - just...
Mark and I stopped at this amazing place called Maozusa on the walk back. They take a pitta bread, stuff it with freshly cooked falafels, then give you a mouthwatering choice of about 15 different things you can add yourself. Oh my god - it was SO tasty. We stood on a bridge over one of the canals stuffing our faces, totally happy.

We were sad our Posies tour had come to an end, but couldn't really have asked for a better night to end it on. Music, friends, falafels - what more do you need - really?

Liege - 8th October

Our day started with bumping our suitcases across the cobbles of Brussels again and a pretty long walk to the Midi/Zuid station. Weird looking place - it looks like a big generic office building from the outside. If it wasn't for all the train lines converging and the big B logo outside, you could easily miss it.
We arrived in plenty of time, so went and had a very nice cafe latte and chilled out for a while in the sunshine.
Once you're inside the Midi/Zuid it's all business. It's well laid out and there's loads of information screens everywhere that update constantly with reliable information. Nothing like the UK... Travelling by train on the continent is a real eye-opener and I highly recommend it.

The journey to Liege was only an hour and a bit. Our guidebook was pretty negative about the city, describing it as grubby and unpleasant, so we weren't expecting much. We arrived in blazing sunshine at the groovy new station. The guidebook was wrong!

Our hotel was right across the street from the station, so no messing about with cobbles today. We checked into our very nice room with a super kingsize bed and wifi. Woohoo!

We were in Liege quite early, so decided it would be a good opportunity to eat some proper food - something we hadn't done for several days. So we headed into the centre of town and had a very nice curry at the Taj Mahal restaurant. It's a small unassuming restaurant down a narrow back street.
Good food + exceptionally friendly service = big tip.
Suitably full, but not stuffed we set out towards the night's venue - Caserne-Fonke. A quick call to Jon confirmed the details of what time they were on. The Liege show was the only show where The Posies were playing with (actually supporting) another band - Puggy. Never heard of them, but apparently they're pretty popular around these parts.

It was quite a trek, but we really enjoyed walking everywhere on this trip. It gave us a chance to see a little bit of each city that we wouldn't have seen otherwise, and get some much needed exercise. We passed through the wig district - I shit you not - there were loads of wig shops all bunched together in one street. Then walked a long way up the river and over a bridge, just as the sun was setting. It was really pretty.

We found the venue, no problem. We knew we'd arrived when we reached the end of the queue, which ran right down the street and round the corner. Puggy are VERY popular. 1,200 tickets sold for this show. Blimey! We stood in line for what felt like a very long time before we finally got in. We were very thankful to be given backstage passes - the place was heaving with teenagers! And what a place. HUUUUGE, one might even say cavernous. The stage was set up about half way along the 'room', so the dozen or so people backstage had the same amount of room as the 1,200 fans crammed in front. It was so big the van which was parked in a corner looked like a toy in there.

We met up with Matilda, who was on video duties for the night this time, said hello to everyone, had a quick drink, then it was show time already. It was absolutely packed, so we decided to stay in the relative calm available to us and watch The Posies play from the side of the stage. This is something we've not done before. It was interesting to watch the show from a different angle like this. OK, we didn't get to hear the full-on sound out front, but we thoroughly enjoyed the show. It was fun to watch the audience. They seemed to really enjoy the set, despite being born after some of the songs were released! There was lots of clapping and cheering - always a good sign.

 

Mahoooosive!

They played a great, but short set of beautifully executed songs, but it was all over too soon.
After the show I found this on the wall and had to take a picture.

GET IN The Posies!!!
Hell yeah.

Tired and shagged-out after a prolonged squawk, the guys had a long drive ahead of them to Utrecht, so we all called it a night pretty early - after spending some considerable time trying to find Darius' wingnut, which he'd dropped in the dark while packing up his drum kit. Eventually it was found.
Matilda, Mark and I went outside to find a bus back into town, where she was approached by a man who wanted to offer her a job. Random! Anyhoo, their conversation was entirely unintelligible to us, but seemed to go well.
He offered us a lift, which saved us time and money and gave them more chance to talk about TV stations and web applications (the only bits I understood). It was a bit of a manic ride, but we got dropped off at the station 10 minutes later in one piece.
By this time I think it was only about 10.30pm ish, so we decided to go for a night cap and chat. Around 11pm Matilda found out she'd just missed her last train back to Brussels, so she got a room at our hotel for the night and we ended up sitting outside a bar a couple of doors down from the hotel until 1.30am, just enjoying each others company.
We were interrupted for a while by Victor, a local loon, who wanted to sit with us. Matilda handled him really well and tried so hard to politely tell him that we were deep in conversation and didn't want him to sit down. He was getting pretty pushy and quite aggressive, but she stayed calm and refused to be baited by him. Kudos to you girl.

All in all a great night in Liege. Don't believe everything you read in guidebooks.

Brussels - 7th October

A leisurely coffee at Antwerp station then onto another efficient and comfortable train for our journey back to Brussels for Posies gig no.3.
Just before you reach Brussels Nord station there's a street you can see from the train, with window after window of hookers, standing around, feeling themselves up and smoking fags. Classy...

We got off the train at Brussels Central station and navigated our way to our hotel for the night, with a lot of help from the map in the guidebook leant to me by someone at work. Thank god I had that. Central Brussels is a maze of narrow cobbled streets. Cobbled streets look great, but they're a bugger when you have a suitcase on wheels. We eventually found our hotel, round the back of the beautiful St Catherines.

We checked in and headed up to our room. I walked through the room, to the window and said to Mark "Did I miss the bedroom?" Checked the only other door, it's the bathroom. Looked again - the "bed" was a fold-out sofa! What the hell?! And you even had to open it yourself. It was seriously uncomfortable, with metal and springs all around the edge. Thank god we were only spending one night. But at least we had internet access. Time to head out to the venue for the night, Botanique.

It was quite a long walk, but we found it ok and even bumped into Martine and Frank on the way. Yay!
Botanique (Botany) is a really lovely arts centre inside the old glasshouse of the Brussels botanic garden. What a beautiful place. Tropical plants and fish ponds all around.
There was some confusion over the guest list, as the woman said we weren't on it. We got it sorted eventually, then went and sat outside on the terrace for a while, overlooking the garden and the city. Lovely.

Gig time! Another great set, with a good selection of old and new songs.

The lighting was great, the sound was superb and the guys were in a good mood, obviously enjoying themselves. What more could you want? Apart from maybe a slightly livelier audience...  They really didn't seem to get the signature Posies humour between songs.
Mark was put in charge of Matt's video camera and disappeared to the back to get some footage. He never came back, but I stayed at the front and did some videos with my camera too. It turned out that the sound was SO GOOD at the back, Mark couldn't bring himself to move away once he found the sweet spot.
A particularly lovely version of The Beautiful One brought a tear to my eye.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNp5Up4LgfM

Once the show was over, Jon and Ken were once again mobbed by people thrusting cash at them in exchange for cd's, which they gladly thrust back at them, signed. We met Matilda (a multi-lingual Finnish woman living in Brussels) and her boyfriend Jill (?). Matilda was incredibly drunk and promptly fell down a short flight on stone steps. There's nothing quite like the sound of a floppy drunk body hitting solid ground. It happened so fast no-one could stop it. Before we knew what was happening, she was head-downwards on the steps, with her legs in the air, but she was shouting "I'm ok!" Thank god she didn't fall into one of the fish ponds!
There was a huge crowd at the merch desk, so Mark and I went and hung out on the terrace with Martine, Frank, Matilda, Jill and Darius. A hilarious conversation ensued, with subjects ranging from music to gynaecologists. Matilda was so frikkin funny. Normally I find drunk people annoying, but she was good natured and fun. She kept spilling her drinks, bumping into people and dropping her cigarettes. And BOY can that girl talk!!!!  :-)

Once everything was sorted, we all went to the hotel next door for some (VERY expensive) drinks in the bar with Jon, Ken, Matt & Darius, the rest of us and Jon's lovely friends from New Mexico (whose names I can't for the life of me remember). I ordered 2 glasses of wine and a Jamesons and it came to 21 euros. Ouch! 9 euros for a shot of Jamesons? - crikey, you can buy a bottle for that.
Matilda talked AT people a lot. Heehee. BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!

We had a great chat with Matt and Jon - the first chance we'd had to actually talk properly, but everyone was tired, so eventually we left for the long walk back to our hotel across town. We walked with Martine and Frank back as far as the parking garage where they'd left their car. When we got there, the shutters were down and it looked very closed. Uh-oh... Thankfully it turned out they could get their car out and get home. Phew.
Walking back through Brussels was much nicer than Antwerp the night before. Unfortunately, we had to go back to our sofa-bed. I didn't sleep a wink, but when you're having this much fun, shit like that doesn't matter so much.

Antwerp - 6th October

Our European adventure started with our first ever trip on the Eurostar from London to Brussels!
It is kind of weird, that 20 minutes that you're inside the channel tunnel. It's best not to think about the fact that you're actually under the sea. I busied myself with my ipod and the time flew by, along with the countryside. One thing I did discover is, if you try to look at things close to the tracks when you're travelling that fast, it makes you feel travel sick quite quickly. It's best to focus on the wider landscape.

There was a little less legroom that I was anticipating, but it's still a damned sight better than travelling by budget airline (boooo...). You don't have to worry about how big your bag is or how much your suitcase weighs. As long as you can lift it onto the train, that's pretty much it. It's very civilised really.
It only takes about 2 1/2 hours for the entire journey too. If we'd flown, we'd have wasted nearly that long being at a bloody airport ridiculously early. Plus you have the added bonus of trains ending up IN the city you want to go to, rather than 20 miles or more outside, which many airports are.

Our Eurostar tickets also gave us free onward travel to any station in Belgium, so when we arrived in Brussels, we hopped onto another train to Antwerp. It was only a local train, that stopped at pretty much every station, but hell, the Belgians know how to do public transport! I initially thought we'd got into a 1st class carriage. The seats were big and comfy. Awesome. The ride is noticeably smoother on the continent too. No bumping around or squealing rails in Belgium, hell no.

Antwerp central station - not too shabby.

Our hotel in Antwerp was literally across the street from the train station. Really nice spacious, comfy room. Schweeet! It was already late afternoon/early evening by the time we got checked in, so no time to wander around the city straight away.
After some faffing around we found a very nice woman who helped us make sure we got on the right bus for the venue, Trix. She was just the first of a whole host of super-friendly, English speaking people who made our trip so much easier and stress-free. We got on a VERY crowded bus and headed off into the night (without paying).
After about 10 minutes, she realised that we'd gone past our stop - not her fault, the bus just didn't stop there. D'oh! So we had to get off at the next stop and walk back the way we'd come to find the venue, Trix. It wasn't the nicest area I've ever had to walk through in the dark. It was pretty dodgy looking, so we kept our heads down and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. We got a little disorientated, so I stopped a couple of guys to ask them directions. It turned out they were heading to the show as well, so we walked with them. More nice people! So far, me likey Belgium and Belgians.

When we arrived at Trix we could hear the guys sound-checking inside. They'd got caught in traffic and had arrived later than expected. The doors opened and there was quite a queue to get in, which is always a good sign. We got to the entrance and told them we were on the guest list, which confused them slightly, as they hadn't been given the list. The guy let us in because "You're the first people to ask, and you're English, so it must be true." Ha!
Just after we got in, Ken rushed over with the guest list, looking flustered and busy. :-)

The place filled up nicely and there was quite a buzz in the air. I tried to buy a couple of drinks, after queueing at the bar for a few minutes. Only then was I told I had to join ANOTHER queue to buy drinks tokens. WTF! Apparently, that's how they do things in Belgium. You can't pay for your drinks at the bar, you have to buy tokens in advance, then hand them over at the bar. A token is 2 euros. One token = one drink, which is great if you want a beer. It's a pretty bloody expensive way of buying a glass of water though, as I discovered. Yikes!

A great set followed.

Conversations was dropped in favour of Daily Mutilation.

After the show Jon and Ken were positively mobbed by people clamouring to buy the new cd. It seemed to take forever before we even got a chance to say hello. We had a quick chat with the boys, met a lovely new friend, Martine and then called it a night as we weren't sure what time the buses and trams stopped running. When we got to the nearest bus/tram stop it looked like it had shut down for the night already, so we started walking back towards town. It was rubbish night and all the streets were piled high with stinky unspeakables. We got about a third of the way, when we saw a bus, so hopped on it back to town. It was way too far to walk that late at night and after such a long day of travelling. We were knackered. Despite being very tired and the comfortable room, I barely slept a wink.

Next morning, we had a little time to kill, so we wandered around the town for a couple of hours, took a few photos and found a supermarket to stock up on essentials, like orange juice, fruit and water. Then we packed up and checked out to catch our train back to Brussels for the next gig.

Photos from Antwerp

Our adventures with The Posies 2010 - London - 5th October

5 shows, 5 cities, 5 nights - hell yeah!

Our Posies adventure started off in London at The Garage. Apparently it's called the Relentless Garage nowadays, but that's a stupid name, so I'll stick with the old one.

We sacrificed not one, but two, Posies virgins to the alter at this gig. Our good friend Nick, who has great taste in music and is one of those people who IS prepared to get off his arse and travel for a good gig, was virgin no.1.
Our gig buddy Kate, who is a very cool chick and loves going to gigs, even if she's barely even heard of the band she's going to see was virgin no.2. I'd convinced her to come at midnight the night before the show.

We had a chance to chat briefly to Jon, and I got a rare and pleasant pre-gig non-sweaty hug - which was nice.
Here's the setlist. The only tracks missing from the new album were Accidental Architecture, Notion 99 & She's Coming Down Again. All the new songs sounded frikkin awesome. I'm even beginning to like Licences To Hide now. That's the only song on the album that I didn't instantly like, but hearing it live, it's getting under my skin.

There was a decent crowd in. It wasn't rammed, but it certainly wasn't light on the ground either. It was extremely hot though. Ken commented on the number of people in the audience who were wearing coats, when "It's a million degrees in here!"
We were told the tale of Darius and his stolen passport and thanked as a nation for having great embassies and for inventing sandwiches.

After the show Ken and Jon were swamped with people eagerly buying CDs. Yay!  :-)
They were so swamped we left them to it and headed home.

 Honourable mentions to other friends present: Henrik, Andy H and his mate Mark. Great to see you guys.
Antwerp next!

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

A play by Colin Smith

On Saturday 25 September we were lucky enough to be in Oldham, just north of Manchester for the last night of a sold out run of Colin Smith's play "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now".

Let me tell you a little about Colin. He's by far the funniest person I've ever had the pleasure to know.
His wit is absolutely razor-sharp. He's one of those people who seems to effortlessly come out with the type of things that you usually find yourself on the way home saying "Aaargh, if only I'd said xxxxxx, it would have been so funny!" He's a master of accents too, switching from one to another pretty convincingly. He's also a bloody nice bloke and a good friend. An all-round good egg, one might say.

So - Colin wrote this play and The Lyceum in Oldham decided to put it on. Smart move. It was sold out every single night of the run, and on the night we were there, the entire audience seemed to have a great time.

Knowing Colin, I knew this play would be good. What I wasn't really prepared for though, was just HOW good it is. I laughed till I cried and my face ached. It's not all cheap gags. The humour is in equal parts intelligent, witty, risque, borderline offensive (just how I like it) and there's the odd cheap gag thrown in too. The whole cast were brilliant.

I was totally blown away by it and literally rendered speechless once it was over. I even cried a little.

The gist of the story is, this bloke wakes up dead, though he doesn't know it, and he's escorted to the afterlife by a scantily-clad "collector" where he has to endure a series of ridiculous (and hilarious) interviews in order to convince him he's dead and assess his life on earth.
He then has to decide which of his 3 dead wives he wants to spend eternity with. While he's fretting over this big decision he's put into temporary accommodation, sharing a flat with Jesus of Nazareth and Adolf Hitler (best comedy duo EVER). It was almost TOO funny at points. It was so funny it hurt!

The Collector (way better looking than The Grim Reaper!)

Comedy genius!

"Directly or indirectly, how many insect deaths have you been responsible for?"

Nice touch - Jesus reading 'Woodworker' magazine.

Special mention to camp Hitler and his fantastic facial expressions.

I don't even want to give away the ending, as I'm pretty convinced that if there's ANY justice in the world, this play will be picked up and will some day soon be playing in a theatre near you. When it is, do yourself a favour, go and see it. I defy anyone to not enjoy the hell out of this.

Messed up

It's 2.30am. I've been awake since 2am. I was asleep, but my dreams were so messed up that I awoke clawing at my face, so I decided to force myself to be awake for a while, for a much needed reality check.

I always say I should write down my dreams before I forget them. They're already starting to fade, so what follows is probably going to be as weird and disjointed as the thing that woke me in the first place.

I'm at a festival. Barefoot, walking around the edge of 2 stages. Cables everywhere. There is some kind of acrobatic troupe with people strapped into robot shaped cages, being strung onto a long wire that's pulled them high into the air. I'm trying to get a picture of them with my phone because they look like transformers, but they're moving too fast and it annoys me.

I don't like the music on offer, somehow I end up in a dirty house with 2 Mexican DJs. They're playing some good music and seem nice enough (in a slightly scary way). We're drunk. It's going ok until I'm sitting between them and one of them suggests I take my top off. I'm suddenly aware of my personal space and just how much it's been invaded. I'm terrified they're going to rape me, and I get angry and shout at them, trying to force them to respect me as a person, as a human being. They're laughing at me. They have a very low opinion of women.
Someone knocks on the door. Why are they knocking? Do they know what these guys had planned all along and know not to disturb them? I shudder at the thought. He makes the excuse that he often wanks himself off on that sofa, so people knock. I don't know what to believe. I'm angry and scared, so I run. Back through the festival - suddenly the transformer robot caged people are really scary.

Suddenly I'm in an ultra-modern white house, with floor to ceiling net curtains blowing in the breeze and the first light of dawn cast pink across the walls. I'm creeping quietly but quickly through the house because I need to know how long it'll take me to get in there, kill the woman who is sleeping peacefully in a vast white bed, get out and get back (to wherever I came from) and keep my alibi intact. As I go through the last door in the long corridor she wakes up. Did she see me? Could she identify me? Should I just kill her now or risk coming back to do it at the time I planned?

Another sudden change. There's things crawling on me - on my face. Get them off! I wake up clawing at my face convinced there's something there.
At that point, I decided to be awake for a while. It's less traumatic.

Robin Guthrie at ICA, London - 19 September 2010

It's not that often that I feel moved to blog about a gig I go to, but this one left me feeling so gushy that I need an outlet.
Early Sunday evening is a good time to be in London. We tubed it from Kentish Town to Charing Cross then wandered leisurely past the tourists taking pictures of each other on Trafalgar Square (taking care to protect our belongings from the pick-pockets), through Admiralty Arch and onto The Mall. Pretty fancy surroundings for a venue, what with Queenie being just up the road...

The ICA is one of those venues that I've heard about for years and years, but never been to until now. It's a very nice arts centre, with art on the walls and a bookshop, as you walk in. The super friendly staff don't make you feel like a scumbag (for a change). We mooched around in the bar for a while and had a nice cup of filter coffee - for only £1.50, which is unheard of in central London, before being politely ushered into the venue.
Nice small/medium venue with pretty good sound, a decent sized stage (with no barriers) and lots of lights. So far so good.

First on were a band that a friend had TOLD me I needed to get there early to see - Daniel Land & The Modern Painters. I'm glad she did. Thoroughly enjoyed their set. Nice wooshy guitars, good songs. I'd definitely recommend them and go to see them again. Thanks for the tip Cath!

Next up were Heligoland. I've seen them before and sadly, this 2nd experience didn't change my opinion. They make great sounds, but (with a couple of exceptions) the songs aren't quite 'there'. Worthy of a mention though is their drummer. Absolutely fascinating to watch. He's so into what he's doing.

Down to the real reason we're all here, sweating our arses off on this exceptionally warm night.
Talking of which...
We've always been weirdo magnets. I don't know why, but they seem to gravitate towards us.
We're chilling out, waiting for Robin Guthrie to come on and this bloke wanders drunkenly up to us and says "What are we all doing here?" The only reply I could think of was "Ummm, we're here to see Robin Guthrie play."
"Yeah, but how did we all end up here? What's it all about? Who is he?"
Oh Jeez...
We humoured him for a few minutes, then kind of ignored him. He eventually wandered away.

After a short wait, a middle-aged man in a green jumper and dark glasses wandered onto the stage. There was no fanfare, no introductions, no applause - he was just 'there' and he was Robin Guthrie. This is the man who was responsible for the glory that is the Cocteau Twins sound and he looks like he's just popped in on his way back from B&Q. If you walked past him buying wallpaper, you wouldn't give him a second glance. I kind of like that. The only recognisable thing about him is those earrings. The epitomy of understated, he has no microphone, so his conversation was limited to the few people at the front who could hear him. He says fuck a lot.
One particularly annoying bloke in the audience, whose hairdo obviously hasn't changed since the 80's shouts out "We've missed you!" Robin instantly comes back with "Well you should have come and fucking visited me then, shouldn't you." We laugh, and I ask Mark to remind me how to spell sycophant.

Recognisable on the street or not, understated or not, one thing you cannot be mistaken about, is the sound when this man picks up a guitar and the effect it'll have on you.
The set didn't start all that well. Technical difficulties meant the first track had to be abandoned and the laptop re-booted before proceedings could continue. This left more time for slightly awkward silences, stupid comments and questions from the crowd etc.
The next period of time, could have been an hour, could have been a day - I lost track of everything... was utterly spell-binding. To try and describe what Robin Guthrie does would be a waste of time. The internet is there. Go and find it...
For most of the set he was joined by the bass player and drummer from Heligoland, who did a damned-fine job of lifting the tunes and added another, very enjoyable dimension. I'm pretty sure that everyone who was there would have been happy to just watch Robin Guthrie noodle away on his guitar randomly, but what we got was a full set of gorgeous tunes, that went from minimal to euphoric and back again.
To be in a crowd of people and see so many beaming faces, closed eyes and swaying bodies is bordering on a religious experience. I remember turning to Mark at one point and saying 'This must be what it sounds like in Heaven."

I left the ICA with a spring in my step, a tear in my eye, a glow in my heart and a deep feeling of joy. I kid you not. All was right with my world in that moment.
Not even the 'severe delays' on the Northern line or the diversion off the A1 through Hatfield on the way home came close to putting a dent in my mood. A mood which has so far lasted 48 hours and shows no signs of declining.

Robin Guthrie should be available on prescription.
Gush over...

Trying to find...

In the hope that this might be picked up on a search engine some day.

My mum is trying to trace her brother.
He was born Christopher Kelvin Newman on 6th September 1945 (06/09/1945) in St Albans, Hertfordshire, UK.

His mother was Elsie Newman (nee Gordon). She was married to Maurice Martin Newman in Tendring, Essex, UK in 1938, but Maurice was absent for an, as yet, undetermined amount of time in the 1940's. During that time Elsie had another child, Jean Christine (my mother) with George Kelvin Sutherland.

There was no father's name on Christopher Kelvin's original birth certificate. Christopher was given his mother's married surname, Newman on his birth certificate, but it's unclear whether Maurice was his father.
We suspect his father was George Kelvin Sutherland, who was in the Royal Corps Signals.

Christopher was adopted and we have no idea what his name changed to, so can't trace him.