Dave Sherv's Random Pearls

Sirens, and Ben Hur.

2007-11-25T19:41:00.001Z

So it turns out I was wrong about Henry's. If you're reading this on facebook you'll see from the comments that apparently it used to be called Mount Pleasant Inn, so the sign I saw was just a relic from the good old days. So as far as we know it'll stay Henry's for the foreseeable future. Everyone breathe a sigh of relief...

After a week of study and the exciting new part time job I've taken on (decided I quite like the whole working in an office thing. Its surprisingly enjoyable) I thought I'd watch Ben Hur on Friday night. Being a postgrad, amongst other things, entitles you to free 24 hour dvd rental from the library, which can't be bad, and they have a fairly good range of films considering. Anyway, if you've never seen the 1959 classic that is Ben Hur then do see it. It has one of the greatest actions scenes I have ever come across...the chariot race is so brilliant partly because there's no camera trickery involved..when Charlton Heston's stunt double flips over the front of the chariot and scrambles back that genuinely happened (although apparently not intentionally). Admittedly the bodies crushed by the chariots are just dummies but I happen to think it still beats the computer generated stuff you get nowadays.
There's some brilliant lines too - my favourite being when Ben Hur gives his potential missus a broach 'It's especially for you' he says with more than a hint of pride; 'it's a broach for a woman'. Don't know why but I laughed out loud at that point.

Speaking of brilliant lines, the best thing I heard all weekend was this from an elderly couple in town, as they watched an ambulance screech past:

Woman: (Irritated) Very loud isn't it?
Man: Yes, unnecessarily piercing!

I weighed this up, and decided, on balance, that the number of lives saved by the loud siren (as opposed to the ambulanceman just shouting out of the window or something and arriving too late to the scene of the accident) was probably high enough to merit a small amount of discomfort on a shopping trip!

Anyways, tiredness beats me, I'm going to go and do something non-taxing like watch Top Gear. I'm indulging myself with a lazy evening.

All the best
Dave

Not like it was in my day...

2007-11-20T17:46:00.000Z

I have three complaints today. I know that's quite a discouraging first sentence but that's life.

1 - They're changing the name of Henry's Bar. I noticed the other day as I was wondering back down Blackboy road and towards home, that there has now appeared, amidst all the scaffolding and general redesigning, a sign which says 'Mount Pleasant Inn.' Seriously. What sort of a name is that? As Jim Butler said yesterday as I was round his house to sample a homemade cheesecake of his and Lisa's creation (which was amazing by the way, but I'm getting distracted here) it's going to make the place worse just because it won't be Henry's any more, even if they keep all the decor, the pool table, the random signs etc. I would therefore like to appeal to anyone else who frequents the place to keep calling it Henry's. It is, and always will be. Besides, it seems an insult to the old guy who leans on the bar whilst his dog takes potshots at your ankles to call it anything else...it is basically his home after all.

2 - My second complaint. The uni library is now a bastion of appalling service. Basically they've replaced all the humans with machines. Instead of taking your library book to a counter, you now pass it through a machine to take it out. Instead of returning your library book to a nice librarian, you now put it on a machine with a big conveyer belt which takes it from you without a single word of thanks. It gets worse. There are now bright sofas all over the place, which make it feel a bit like a building society. And there's a big thing in the middle where you go to get advice or something, which they call 'the pod'. Oh my.
And certain members of the library staff seem to have been taken over by robots since last year too, such is their lack of charisma and warmth.

And that's all. I know I said I had three complaints, but I'm depressing myself now, and I hate being overly negative, so I'll leave my rant about people not understanding Dickens for another time...

I've started reading The HunchBack of Notra Dame by the way. Read Les Miserables over the summer and it was spectacular, and so far Hunchback seems very good to.

Anyway, that's enough for now. I should take a picture of my beard some time. I'm pleased with it so far though it still looks a bit sparse.

In the meantime, take care
Dave

Once again, it's been a while.

2007-11-16T17:31:00.000Z

It's been a huge while since I posted anything, so I thought I would for a change. By a while I think I mean half a year. Never mind. In my defence its been a long time since I've had time AND something to say AND, frankly, really felt like it. Good defence, I think you'll agree.

I got a job today, just a wee part time one but it'll help keep me fed AND the bonus is that its for a book wholesaler, so its not a million miles from the book industry aspirations I have. Its a bus ride away on the other side of the city, but I secretly don't mind buses at all, there's always lots of interesting people on them - this morning, for example, there were a multitude, even a galaxy, of old ladies who, it seems, do exactly the same journey at exactly the same time every day since they were able to predict to each other who would next get on the bus. On the way back was an old man with a cap who said things like 'humph' and chuckled to himself, and had a barking cough which made the bus shake every so often.

Oh, by the way, I'm now doing an MA - still at Exeter, but, it seems, a bit more work than the undergrad. It's in English with Victorian Studies, and basically the second bits just to make me feel like I'm not repeating the same stuff all over again. I'm loving it actually, lots of victorian Dickens-ness (developing a nack for putting Dickens into every essay, verging on every sentence).

Also today I've been reading Little Dorrit (brilliantly, that was work). I've also been getting hugely excited about my latest venture (as some will tell you, I have crazes. But I think this world has need for people with crazes, just so long as there are also people who are a bit more consistent*) It's called SHARD (Students Highly Animated about Reading Drama) and it essentially consists of anyone who wants to sitting around someone's house for an evening, with a pint perhaps or a glass of wine, and reading plays. It's drama without the committment which I can see for many might seem a very bad thing, and I think they're probably right in a sense, but then drama without committment is far better than no drama at all. I've been pleasantly surprised at the keenness of lots of people I've spoken too, so I think we might meet for the first time Saturday week.

I'm boring you, sorry, but presumably you're reading this partly to find out what I'm up to, so harsh as it might be, I'm inclined to say you brought it on yourself.

Anyway, I ought to rap things up here. I'm heading for dinner with James and Lisa now, followed by the cinema to see Rendition. I'll let you know what its like (partly as a necessary outlet because James justifiably dislikes it when I launch into my critical analysis of a film on the way home.)

All the best

Dave

*Please don't be confused. The goatee I have recently begun to acquire is NOT a craze. That is what I would describe as an experiment which every man must (and mostly will) at some point undertake. And now seemed like a good time. It's a bit like national service in the States.

Worship

2007-05-29T19:23:00.000Z

It’s not about me.

It never was.

And it won’t ever be.

And no matter what I say, nothing will change the irreversible fact that worshipping God can only ever be totally about God.

It can only ever be about standing before my father (he’s my father! That’s my dad, do you see him?),
before my maker (See him there? He made me!),
before God (he’s the God!)
and proclaiming his name before mine.

More of him, less of me.

(Less selfishness, pride, arrogance, self-pity, self absorption, self, self, self.
More beauty, goodness, truth, holiness, God, God, God.)

Why?

Why bother?

Why does it matter?

Why remove ~~myself~~ from the picture?
Wait.

Do I get ~~scrubbed out?~~ Do I lose my personality in worship? Do I become a faceless, nameless, characterless blob?

As I proclaim his name, and lift my eyes, and my hands, and my voice, am I turning myself into an automaton? A robot? A worker ant, programmed, voiceless?

Valueless?

Unless…

Unless what?

Unless somehow, for some reason, I find my value in worshipping the living God.

Unless…

I was designed,
knit together,
created,
knotted,
stretched,
moulded,
melted,
crafted,
welded,

in order to worship God.

Unless worshipping God is what I’m made to do,
is my primary function,
is my purpose,
is the very reason I exist,

The very reason for my being…

The very summit of my existence.

Then, and only then does worshipping God,
(lifting him up with every little fibre of my body,
giving all I am to him)

make sense…

Because if that’s what I was made to do,
that’s where I’ll find my satisfaction.

Because that’s where the value is.

And as
I fall deeper
And deeper,
in love with Him.
Step
By little step
I come closer to him.
I see more of him.
I become more like him.

And I become more like the me he always meant me to be.

That’s worship.

Could this blog be any more sporadic?

2007-05-14T15:26:00.000Z

Well it's been a while since I've posted anything, so I kind of feel like I should, for old times sake...

Checking through my dissertation repeatedly as I am at the moment I have discovered with a certain amusement mixed with fascination and (for no apparent reason) just a hint of sadness that many of my sentences are considerably, even very much, longer than they need to be and that consequnetly it is easy to forget the point of the sentence as explained in the opening of aforementioned sentence, by the time one reaches that which is signalled by the use of punctuation such as the full stop, or period as it is known to American readers, that is namely the end of the aforementioned (several times over) sentence.

I also, obviously, have a bizarre habit, as is clearly the case, of asserting everything by claiming, evidently, that it simply must be true and leaving things at that.

I need to get rid of some of those habits before I do my Masters (which will be here in Exeter by the way, not sure that was definite last time I posted).
Speaking of which, I had a very entertaining meeting with my tutor today in which she expressed what can only be described as distress that I have no plans to do a PHD after my masters, let alone become, as she put it 'a Victorianist'. Let me make this quite clear, I do not want to be an academic. I have nothing against them, and some are very pleasant, but, frankly, if God had wanted me to become an English professor, he would have blessed me with a tweed jacket to match (read that metaphorically or literally as you will).

I seem to remember showing lots of reminiscing photos and as my undergrad days are slipping away ever faster, and a lot of very good friends are going too, I'm going to continue that wee tradition here. On the left is my amazing hall group from last year when they were just wee first years. I say wee, but Dan is clearly quite a lot taller than me so that's probably not really accurate. On the left is Tim at my 21st Bday party, doing what he does best. He's an unusual one, our Tim. Note in the background the fish being fried by an 11 watt lamp, perhaps partially explaining the high death rate in those early days...

The past few weeks in the life of the world's most sporadic blogger..

2007-04-10T08:32:00.000Z

It's been a while since I updated this, I admit, but that's life, I'm a busy person (even though an English student).
So, to very quickly summarize, my last few weeks have involved the following...

1) Childhood Death in Victorian Literature - the dissertation is coming along fairly well, I've written just under half in a first draft and I have planned in fair detail all of it, so now its just a case of getting on with it.
2) Nearly being eaten by Dartmoor ponies - one of a couple of little trips while I was in Exeter for the first bit of the hols, involved a walk with Luce and James on Dartmoor including incredibly violent Dartmoor ponies and very steep gorse infested slopes.
3) A 22 mile cycle ride - which might not sound a lot but James and I really are quite unfit and besides, I actually cycled about 26 due to a moment just before lunch when I went sailing past James and didn't realise for some time that he had stopped a while back.
4) The world's greatest homemade dessert - several weeks in the making apparently and created for me by Hazel (Oi, you at the back, stop aah-ing)
5) Returning to my homeland - Farnborough is as exciting as ever, and I am sorry to report that all my mates are still gripped by the craze that is the card game 'Killer Bunnies and the Quest for the Golden Carrot', even Tom who is supposed to be defending the country. What can I say?
6) A new tie, and other new items of clothing - it's a long story, but suffice it to say these were formly the unwanted garments of Hazel's parents and grandparents, whom I visited yesterday.

Northern Ireland: Things it taught me.

2007-03-24T16:41:00.000Z

Just to reassure you, I did return from Northern Ireland, I just haven't got around to writing anything here for while. The following things I learnt as a result of our trip:

1) If you step off your plane in a new part of the world and it is windy, rainy, and cold, that place might well be Northern Ireland.

2) Getting lost in Belfast is potentially risky, especially if you end up on the Falls Road. Gladys advised us English to keep our mouths shut and our accents locked away. Here its worth making my first profound observation about Northern Ireland. It might seem from the news that things are all rosy there but you couldn't help feeling the division all over the shot - there are still villages which can be described as Republican or Unionist strongholds. And no-one has done anything about that anti-British murals dotted around areas of Belfast.

3) Waiters in Chinese restaurants don't much like groups of eight ordering only a jug of water instead of real drinks. They tend to be keen to get rid of you after an hour or so, their circling approach to 'encouraging you to leave' is strangely similar to tactics employed by the Stasi.

4) The youth of Belfast like to hang out at the Odyssey, seemingly doing very little and wearing slightly less.

5) Its quite important when you're hiring a car to work out things like how the headlights work before you drive. That way you avoid the risk which Rebecca ran of driving us into the car park of an IRA pub to test them out. Once again Gladys' helpful advice meant that the naive English didn't get killed.

6) An Irish potato farm in Limavady is exactly as you'd imagine it. Right down to the copy of farmer's weekly on the kitchen table and the tractor calender.

7) The McCollum clan are an immenesly hospitable bunch who like to feed you cake and let you feed the lambs or, in my case, talk to the 'more mature' sheep. Limavady itself is a very attractive part of the world which I would be tempted to describe as 'Seriously Farmy' if that wasn't a label already given to a bran of mature cheddar. It is, however deceptively far from Belfast.

8) Northern Irish motorways have only two lanes apart from a briefly extravagant patch of motorway in Belfast which slightly overcompensates with four. A roads are country lanes and B roads are known in the rest of the UK as 'farm tracks'.

9) The Giant's Causeway is slightly smaller than you;d expect but is immensly beautiful. The Northern Irish claim this was the sight of a mudfight between a Scottish and an Irish giant. The Irish giant's aim being somewhat lacking, he missed Scotland and the resulting clod of mud is now known as the 'Isle of Man'. No jokes. Be warned if you go on a day which is windy enough, and with a mixture of hail, snow and what quite possibly may be bricks, you will return to the car looking slightly as if you have been right in the middle of one of these giant battles. Also be warned that with a direct Northerly wind blowing at you from the Atlantic, drinking tea can be a messy experience.

10) We English have been, and very often continue to be, a load of total ignoramus's when it comes to understanding not only what our meddling has done to Ulster, but also quite how immensly spectacular this country really is. The views over the snowy mountains on Monday morning on the way to the wedding in Belfast were, quite simply, magic.

The wedding itself was excellent fun. Kirsty (the bride) looked fantastic and the elusive Derek (the groom) was finally revealed to be a thoroughly nice man (he was, no doubt, a thorughly nice man before, but we'd never met him, you see) Myself, Hazel and Gladys went to the sit down meal at a posh hotel/castle by the sea, and the others joined us for the ceileg..Keildgh...ce...Scottish Dance... at the end.

The photos attached aren't actually from this wedding, they're taken my brother's a few weeks ago, but thought I'd attach them anyway because I've only just got them. One is of my bro looking rather noble and dangerously clutching a sword and my new sis in law, Rachel, and the other is of myself and Hazel.

Heading on a wee excursion

2007-03-16T12:10:00.000Z

I begin by greeting the small fanbase I seem to have aquired in Uruguay*. I'm not sure if the 0.87% of my readership who come from that random South American land alighted here intentionally or by accident, but hi there, you know who you are (I would presume, unless you ended up there after a very very drunken night, in which case, you'll quicly realise who you are once you get arrested) and keep reading. Also, don't attack Paraguay, they deserve better.

Officially term is about to end, but I'll be here in the Exe doing dissertation for a couple of weeks yet. Happily, it seems, so will quite a few others, though sadly not everyone. I've handed in my last essay of term and given my room a sort of spring clean (it'll get a better one next week) so all is well.

This weekend I'm off to Northern Ireland,, Limavady to be precise - along with Hazel, Steve and Rebecca, I'm staying on Gladys' potato farm (or rather her Dad's..she seems to want nothing to do with it, which is a mystery because potatoes are truly fascinating. ;-)) We're going to be joined by various other members of STEP team Peru summer 2005 to see Kirsty (our leader on said trip) get married in Belfast to a fantastic sounding man named Derek and thus aquiring for herself a very long and complex Polish surname. I'd imagine, knowing Kirsty, it is the culmination of a childhood dream.

To add to the excitement, it's forecast to snow quite a considerable amount while we're there, and since Devon has afforded us absolutely none of the white stuff this year, I feel a strange sense of deserving about it all. I'm sure there'll be photos to follow and a report into the state Northern Irish potato farming (and possibly farmers as well) next week. In the mean time, today's reminiscing photo was taken almost exactly a year ago, and depicts Tim, James and LHD striding across a snowy Dartmoor.

*In case you're wondering I use a counter to log where people who visit come from. Don't worry though, I don't know who you are, I just know that most of you are British and use Internet Explorer.

The past wee while

2007-03-12T20:09:00.000Z

Especial thanks should go to Pete Croker for his addition to my poem in the last post, which you can find via Facebook. He puts me to shame with his extraordinary poetic prowess, he really does.

Apart from being buried under with essays, presentations, dissertations and so on, all is reasonably well. Friday was an insane day of meetings (meetng with Abe, meeting for Globe, then Pray-Eng all pretty much back to back) but I guess that kept me occupied. The Globe meeting was suppose to last for three hours, according to new International Sec John, (him of chisel faced repute who, I was told today, currently has a lock of his own hair for sale on Ebay) though clearly he just said that in case we had any major crises to solve. We didn't, unless you count the fact that Liz revealed she has never before eaten a cheese toastie.

Saturday was a day in Taunton with Hazel (we discovered a new park. I have since been informed there are actually two there, and that it is 'famous' for them, though I think the word 'famous' is here being used fairly loosely) followed by a trip to the pub. Tim, James, Lucy, Fliss, Lisa, LHD, John and Siobhan, and I, were I think the entire list of folks present, though we have yet to confirm whether that stranger with the 'new hair' was in fact Fliss or, as I suspect an imposter going by the same name for their own amusment. Answers on a postcard.

Sadly my evening was curtailed somewhat due to, lets say, slight digeston related issues, which I don't wish to discuss on such a public medium but which, suffice it to say, had been plaguing me for a short while and which have caused reveberations still being felt this very day. Let's leave it there.

Whilst we're on ailments by the way, my left ear has been doing very interesting things recently to te point where, at present, music which is playing from my stereo on my left sound like it is coming from both sides of me. It is actually very useful, a lot cheaper than surround sound, so am in no position to complain. The music is, I should point out, the absolutely awesome Afro Celt Sound System, who I have discovered relatively recently and who do exactly what they say on the tin, really.

Sunday morning was a cracking meeting at Frontiers Church (praisin' the G-man big style as Johnny 'J-Ro' Rose might possibly put it, or perhaps not since mine is a poor and possibly slightly embarrasing imitation of his 'urban vernacular'). This was followed by a trip to Mr Joel Cross's place for lasagne (if you ever need evidence of the power of prayer, I prayed that despite the screwed up internal system to which I promised previously in this post not to refer any time later - sorry - I would have an enjoyable time wth no repercussions. It worked, of course, God's more than capable since he made it all anyway) And it wa a very good lasagne indeed, cheers Joel.

I feel I should contribute another reminiscing photo, so here's a trip we took up to Dartmoor just over a year ago in Feb 2006. In case you're not familiar by now, its LHD, Lucy, James (note the Charles Dickens beard he was sporting at the time) and Tim.

A Poem About a Bear.

2007-03-08T15:10:00.000Z

The following is a poem about a bear. I'm particularly pleased with the fact that it is entirely random. The bear's name, in case you are slow to pick up on these sorts of things is Humphrey. Its best read out loud.

Humphrey the bear
Is a very big bear,
(He’s a very big bear
With very big hair)
And you can always share
With a very big bear -
And Humphrey the bear
Is a bear that cares;
To meet Humphrey the bear
Just look for his lair
(Like most other bears
Humph is chuffed with his lair)
But if you don’t know where
To look for the lair
Of the mammal which I’ve called Humphrey the bear,
It wouldn’t be fair
For me to just share
Without the permission of Humphrey the bear,
So just look for the hair
Of a very big bear
And follow the trail - it’ll lead you there.

The Shervington's are growing.

2007-03-07T17:19:00.000Z

I now have two sisters, and two brothers. I feel immensly well off for siblings. Rachel, welcome to the random and often surprising world of the Shervington family.

My brother's wedding last weekend was great craic. Hazel and I stayed at the lovely friendly welcoming house of the Frames, a couple from Pete's church. They fed us immensly well, gave us copious cups of tea and chatted almost non-stop to us, about most things under the sun. All in all, it was really very special.

The wedding itself was fantastic, a highlight (if you can have highlights in a wedding, and I'm not sure you can since its all pretty marvellous) being the piece of music played during the signing of the register. Rachel's brother is in the Royal Marines band, so we were treated to a recording specially written piece played by the Royal Marines band itself.

It was great too to see so many relations, most of whom I had last seen at my sis's wedding in August.
By the time of the reception, my ushering duties were mostly done so it was a very pleasant time of catching up with various folks and having an engaging conversation with one of Rachel's friends about evolution. The speeches were not only absolutely priceless comedy but also rather moving - oh, and rather than a toast, Peter preferred to produce a toaster and offer slices of toast to anybody who wished to join him.

I never meant to make you cry, oooooo, no i never meant.. etc etc

2007-03-02T12:21:00.000Z

I begin with an apology. I never intended that people would actually weep at my blog, so I was somewhat alarmed when James said to me the other afternoon "you made my girlfriend cry". I thought back over the last few days and reassured myself that although I may have hit James on the head with bowls, saucepans and that sort of thing* I never intentionally made Lisa cry. I later discovered that my post last time had reached such heights of emotion that Lisa had actually started crying while reading it. Whilst that is flattering (what writer doesn't want to provoke that sort of reaction) it is also slightly alarming. And now Ihave exasapated the situation by naming and shaming Lisa in my blog. I need to run for the hills...

...Which is convenient because H and I now packed and ready to head to York. This time tommorrow my brother will be on the brink of married life. I will tell all on my return.

Here's another reminiscing photo for you. This time its from my 20th Birthday party in September 2005. LHD is attacking Tim which is nice, whilst Lucy is hugging herself.

*All in a day's work. Important you realise its all part of the friendly banter in our house. I have also grated cheese over Tim's head and, more recently, opened every door in the kitchen (including the oven) out of pure, unmitigated cheekiness - Tim has a particular dislike of opened doors you see...

Eyes getting mistier...

2007-02-28T16:09:00.000Z

Firstly, apologies if you read these blogs on Facebook, and end up reding it twice. For some reason it seems to upload twice. If anyone knows why, I'd love to hear...

I don't know if I'm the only one who's getting a wee bit misty eyed about my university days now. It's now, scarily enough, just three months until my final essay is due, and less until my dissertation is due. In themselves these facts are not scary per se, I feel I've been getting on quite well with the old dissertation* and the postcolonial essays are relatively straightforward (dare I say it). So basically, my undergrad days are slipping away from me, and there ain't really very much I can do about it.

I've had far too many 'do you remember when?' conversations in the last few weeks - perhaps not helped by the fact that I've been living in this same lovely house for two years and whatever happens next year I am definitely moving out (on the plus side it will definitly be nice to have a change of location and people around me).

I may even, in a weird kind of way, miss Tim's hugs first thing in the morning - they have certainly made life...distinctive- thanks Tim (that is NOT an encouragement, please note lad). And James' habit of prodding my cooking has, if I'm honest, probably saved a few meals from the bin (and a few pans from cremation) even if at the time I have snarled at him a bit - and probably still will.

It keeps surprising us how if all three of us hadn't decided to go bowling on the very first day of Fresher's week as first years we may have met but we possibly wouldn't have been friends, and we wouldn't have met Luce, and that crazy guy called Dave with the ridiculous long hair and, at one stage, the world's most calamatous beard...it's funny to think.

In light of all this reminiscing, I'm going to begin showing some photos of bits and bobs from the past 3 years. Todays is James, Tim and I in a field in North Devon somewhere during an exciting expedition in the Quantock Hills. If I remember rightly some large farmer had just told us off for eating sandwiches in his field. Or was that the day before? Lucy was there too, by the way, but she's behind the camera...

* After some thinking about where research had led me and whether I now have a clear line of argument, I have concluded that the main thrust of what I'm saying is to do with the struggle of faith verses doubt as played out around the Victorian child's deathbed (both fictional and real). It's interesting stuff, trust me...

A manifestation of perseverence.

2007-02-26T11:04:00.000Z

I'm concerned my readership has dropped considerably since my return. I have very much brought this upon myself by 'quitting' last September, but it seems that I will have to start from scratch again to build up a group of commited readers. Nevertheless, I shall persevere, like a headstrong tortoise crossing the M5, partly because I note that my brother has restarted his and I just don't like being outdone.

Currently (well not currently, right now I'm writing this - aka procrastinating) I'm trying to get bits of dissertation, reading and general sorting out before next weekend when Hazel and I are heading to my big Bro's wedding in York. Very much looking forward to it, but definitely need to polish my shoes before then. This will be my fourth wedding in less than a year, with a fifth that we're both going to in the fair land of Northern Ireland in three weeks. It's a good way of making my suit feel loved.

My trip to Arnos Vale was useful, I got a couple of case studies noted and so on, but I didn't stay long. James' prediction that I wouldn't last an hour there proved correct...its kind of a slightly overwhelming place somehow - particularly since bits of it are still in use - so after a half an hour I felt the need to leave.
Incidentally, i've had some very amusing reactions to my choice of dissertation topic (to do with childhood death in victorian literature, for those of you who haven't been following), the most common being a look of abject concern followed by a notable desire to get as far away as possible. It was dissapointing, however, that the topic didn't come up at the barbers earlier today, though gratifyingly we did talk about the weather.

Other notable things which have recently happened include Irish Natasha's brief visit to Exeter complete with basque hat (it has a real name but I've completely forgotten it) and the Frontiers baptisms yesterday afternoon - including the one and only Jon Salter.

Thats about all for now. It hasn't been the most interesting of posts, but sometimes my creative brain seems to freeze, you see and like I said I'm trying to persevere with this blog malarky. Words of encouragement always welcome.

Possibly becoming a Master...

2007-02-21T19:12:00.000Z

There's a possibilty I might be doing a masters next year. My reasons aren't wholly to do with wanting to be a student a bit longer (though i'd be lying if i said that wasn't appealing). And part of my kind of wants to go into the real world, admittedly. But the thing is, I suddenly realised all my priorities for next year (get stuck into church, have a chance to earn money, be in Exeter, etc...) were quite compatible with doing a Masters. And then there's a part of me that is very excited about the possibilty of being called a 'Master of Arts'. I have images of myself wondering the streets in a dark jacket and shades, walking into a smoky bar, introducing myself as 'Dave Shervington, Master of Arts', and flipping open my I.D card, while an awed hush descends on the entire place. Sounds fantastic to me, though not sure everyone will agree, and I would anticipate that Hazel might well (probably justifiably) disown me if I actually tried that one.

I'm heading to Arno's Vale Victorian Cemetery in Bristol on Friday to see some examples of how Victorians commerated the deaths of children for my dissertation. I've been in touch with a guy from the 'Friends of Arno's Vale Cemetery'. Not convinced a cemetery makes a very lively chum, but anyway there we are. The guy has warned me to be prepared to crawl through undergrowth to find what I'm looing for.
What's he talking about, I'm always prepared to crawl through undergrowth...

Roadtrips and pink and grey sweaters

2007-02-17T16:44:00.000Z

I am definitely considering performing in public once more. It's been a while since I did some poetry reading and there's an open mic night this Tuesday on St Luke's Campus as part of the mission put on by the (E)CU*. Normally its assumed that everybody plays music at these things but I like to shatter the mould with my unique blend of poetry and light, gentle humour. Or something. So I'm making enquiries and am pondering whether I should quickly write some new material for the occasion.

I spent the day on a sort of roadtrip, except with mum and dad**. We trundled down in the car along the coast and eventually arrived at Torquay. Torquay's a bit of an enigma actually because I always assumed it was a slightly rundown old hat sort of place, but actually its incredibly posh. And yet it still manages to be one of the most unfashionable places in the world. It's extraordinary. I'm a little concerned actually, because it poured with rain for the entire day and the 'rents seemed quite willing to let that fact shape their view of the south devon coast. I did point out that it rains in Farnborough too sometimes, but allegedly that's a 'different sort of rain'. Still, it was a lovely day nonetheless.

Last night we hosted a houseparty; something of a rarity these days actually. Tim's ingenious idea (it was his bday you see) was to have a 'Where's Wally' party which basically resulted, amongst other things, in me and James wearing matching pink and gray striped jumpers because we couldn't find any red and white ones. Enough said.

*It's fun to be controversial!
** Don't ask me why that makes it a 'sort of roadtrip' but it does.

Trust

2007-02-15T22:37:00.000Z

Trust

Means leaning forwards

Over a hole

Which goes

On and

And

On.

Keeping your eyes open though

You can’t see the bottom

Reaching forward

With hands

And feet

But then,

Eventually,

Just letting…

…

go.

Blackboy Road, home of the desperate ruffian.

2007-02-11T21:58:00.000Z

Well I haven't posted anything for quite a while I guess, and I'm sort of writing here more out of necessity than desire. Which is ridiculous, I know, cos there's no way I NEED to write, I just feel I'd be a bit of a fraud if I staged a dramatic blog comeback (well, dramatic in my head anyway) one week and wrote nothing the next.
So I thought I'd share something I found in The Journal of Emily Shore which I've read a bit of in preparation for my dissertation. At one stage Emily Shore (who lived in the early 19th century and who died at the age of nineteen of smallpox) stayed in Exeter. As well as describing the view over Exeter from Northernhay as 'glorious' and Exeter high street as 'decidedly striking' (couldn't agree more) she has some quite entertaining comments about Blackboy Road (no more than 2 minutes from where I live) At the time Blackboy road was part of the countryside around Exeter which Emily Shore describes as 'infested just now to a remarkable degree by desperate ruffians' (now known as 'students') and the road is specifically mentioned as having 'two caves where the thieves deposit their plunder'. I'm trying to work out whether anything has changed...
You need to appreciate how nice it is nice to get these little bits of light relief when you're preparing a dissertation on childhood death in Victorian literature...

I win something!

2007-02-02T16:06:00.000Z

You have no idea how chuffed I was when I opened one of those Sainsbury's gamecards you can get at the moment and found I had won a bag of frozen brocolli!!!!

You don't seem impressed... And sadly there will be no glitzy award ceremony, James tells me I just hand over the voucher at the till. I'm still holding out for a fanfare, though.

Look, you need to realise that I never win anything like that. The last competition I remember winning where I wasn't told to phone some ridiculously overpriced phone number in order to claim my crappy holiday for one in Toremolinos was probably when I won a pot of fudge for dressing up particularly convincingly as Popeye in the Church fete when I must have been no more than 8. You may be pleased to hear I still have the pot (back in my parent's house) but not the lid. The pot now plays a vital role in preserving my small collection of interesting rocks, which in turn once formed part of my 'museum'*. I was an undeniably exciting kid.

Now do you understand my pleasure?

Ok, well never mind, at least know that I am now in a position to obtain a foodstuff that will play a vital role in my 'five-a-day'.

If anyone can enlighten me as to the other healthy bags of goodness up for grabs in this hotly contested competition, do let me know.

*The museum also contained a model of a Roman Villa (as opposed to a roman villa, which would have been less exciting) and a two shilling piece from the 1950s, which, to be fair was ancient history at the time. I don't remember anyone visiting, except perhaps my mum. Though I don't recall her paying the £4 entrance fee.

Heart Transplant

2007-01-30T21:59:00.000Z

It's maybe not often I share poetry like this, but this time I'm going to. It's called Heart Transplant:

And then you look right through me;

Through my skin,

Through my flesh,

Through my bone,

And deeper,

Deeper still

Your gaze goes on and on

Until -

It reaches my heart,

My black and weighty heart

My stone cold heart

Laid bare for you to see.

And tears fall

(from somewhere

I was only half aware existed)

As you reach towards me.

I do not steel myself

for the moment

When your hand grips my heart

I can only close my thin-lidded eyes

As your glory thunders round

With shards of pure light

And sound.

And then once more you look right through me;

Through my skin,

Through my flesh,

Through my bone,

And deeper,

Deeper still

Until –

My heart is changed

It is shining,

Refined,

Renewed.

I sit

In breathless silence.

Free.

Journeys

2007-01-28T15:53:00.000Z

Journey 1 - St David's to home I have found the ultimate route home from St David's station you may be excited to hear. Go via Howell Road and it takes only about 20 minutes. Yes, that's twenty minutes. I know.
Anyway, no idea why I shared that.
Journey 2 - Plotlines I have lost the pleasaurable pasttime of reading a good, gripping page turner, I've decided. So now I have bought myself a cheap book called The Interpretation of Murder by some bloke I've never heard of purely on the basis that the reviews talk a lot about it being 'fast paced' and 'intelligent'. It might prove to be a mistake but I'm going to see if I can get gripped by a story purely because of the storyline in the next couple of days (it seems that most of the books I like best don't really have storylines - they are just fantastically well written. Apart from Dickens, who writes amazing plots but he's a bit too close to study and I'm taking the first part of next week off, you see)
Journey 3 - The mysterious journey into the future. Also I'm heading to the careers place on Tuesday probably to have a think about 'the future'. Seemingly if you just turn up there with little idea of what you want to do as I did last year, they just tell you to go away and think about it. Which is fair enough, but I was under the apparently false impression that they were there to give me ideas. Anyway, I will arrive this time with a few glimmering thoughts if not for next year then at least for longer term plans, and see where they lead me.

An interesting question...

2007-01-24T13:14:00.000Z

Ok, just a quick question, partly to investigate how far I can plumb the depths of your knowledge, and to encourage debate and discussion (which, as my housemate pointed out, is the kind of thing lonely lecturers say to get someone, anyone, to use their subjects online discussion forums). I figure someone in the world must know the answer and its possible (although I guess not probable - ask a statistician) that that person might read this at some point and bother to respond.
At lunch today James and I were pondering why we say things like 'hang up' when you clearly put the reciever down, why you say 'look up' when this invariably means looking in a book which in turn usually involves (unless you study in a very strange way) looking down. Unfortunately the answers to these questions aren't going to help me in the slightest with my exam tommorrow, but, thankfully, as has been pointed out to me on a number of occasions this week there is a life beyond revision, so if anybody has an answer (or another similar phrase which makes no sense) please do suggest it. And do bear in mind that if no-one bothers to comment after this post, I'm going to look really quite sad and lonesome.
Right, back to revision...

I'm back.

2007-01-23T17:43:00.000Z

Ok, so it's been a while I guess. And I know I said I'd given this up, but, see, I was sat revising in Bostons today and for some reason the thought crossed my mind that I might return to blogging. Not so many people blog nowadays -or so it seems - so it feels like an original thing to do again. And not sure whether this is true but it seems vaguely possible that there may be a connection between the fact that I've been doing very little creative writing generally recently, and the fact that I haven't been blogging. I can only speculate.
Anyway, I'm unlikely to be a very regular blogger, but just so you know when the fancy takes me I'll be posting little thoughts and questions here. I'd encourage you to respond/comment/disagree, it makes me feel interesting (housemate James keeps telling me I'm not, see - probably cos I keep quoting shakespeare ready for my exam. In fact the other day I heard a Shakespeare line in an old episode on telly so ignoring the groans I rushed for my complete works to see if it was from Henry IV part 1 as I had suspected. It was. But that doesn't take away from the fact that it was a very sad thing to do.)
I'll be keen to share some of the places my dissertation takes me to..its already led me to the British Library and the National Archive and very nearly led me to Brookwood cemetry (I should explain that it is to do with childhood death in Victorian literature, before you think I'm cracking up. Although its possible you already do.)
SO I look forward once again to sharing little thoughts, profound or otherwise with you, about life, faith, study and the progress of our pet fish.

Farewell

2006-09-29T09:28:00.000Z

After 142 posts, 2346 visits and 3542 page views, from Milton Keynes to California to Wales, this blog is no more. It has been a pleasure sharing my random pearls with the world, but now the rest of the world is blogging too, I must move on. Perhaps one day I will return to the realm of blogging. Perhaps I will write about my travels in the future. But for now, I've learnt that there's little better way of sharing your life with the world, of sharing the little epics that make up your journey than through good old fashioned friendships with the people with whom you surround yourself every day. Goodbye, and remember, every journey is an epic.

Me again!

2006-08-28T15:28:00.000Z

Thought I would draw your attention to an exciting development on this page. Look down at the bottom of the panel on the left and you'll see a little box containing various facebook links and some photos which you can scroll through. I'd like to pretend its all my technical mastery that brought this about but really, if I'm honest I just copied and pasted.
Oh, and by the way, my writing drought has ended...watch this space...

Three free days.

2006-08-28T12:33:00.000Z

Delightfully, I have spent no money this weekend apart from on food, which is impressive especially since my parents are on holiday so its all self motivated! I am scrimping and saving so that I can have a bit to spend in Scotland (only a few days to go now!) without plunging myself into even more financial problems before pay day (that is, the day the student loan comes through!) My three free days have found me reading, playing badminton with Alec, reading, cooking myself a roast dinner (ok, ok, so the chicken was already cooked, but I did the potatoes) watching The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe (love it, it gets me every time!) and perhaps most unusually of all, last night watching the international space station fly past. I should explain that when I got back from church last night my lovely next door neighbour was looking fixedly at the sky and told me that the international space station was apparently about to fly over. Not sure quite how rare that is but anyway. I went out to the garden and indeed there was a slow moving white light tracing its way across the sky. I had a profound moment, thinking to myself how amazingly big the universe is and so on. That gets me every time too.
Today I went on another training walk, this time sadly reduced to walking along the Basingstoke canal. To be fair, it was quite picturesque, but hardly what you'd call an extreme walk. Although my original plan to walk to Woking fell through cos the path had collapsed and the detour signs had be tampered with. Having walked for 15mins along what I thought could be the path, I realised that there were more sentry posts around than in the average public right of way, and decided to chance it no longer. So I headed in the other dirextion down to Aldershot. Mind you, I still came across the army; a platoon of soldiers was running the opposite way to me a few miles later. Thankfully they were quite amiable.
All in all I covered about 10 miles in just over 3 hours with no stopping for longer than a minute. Which I thought was quite good going really.
Excitingly my camera appears to be working again. Not too sure how far I trust it, though...

A momentus |(if wet) occasion

2006-08-25T09:41:00.000Z

I know, I know, its been over a week since I posted anything, but I've had a good excuse. I've been camping in Somerset for Momentum, a big Soul Survivor christian festival for students and twenty somethings and it was fairly awesome. Although I went with guys from St Pete's here in Farnborough, a came across a large number of Exeter uni folk, the most frightning of which was Alex, who leapt on me when I was queueing for a burger. Unreasonable.
It was an awesome time of meeting with God...(yup, meeting with - rolls off the tongue, but its pretty immense, huh? God actually wants to meet us!).
I was also very rainy, but this didn't seem to cause too much of a hassle really, our tents prooved pretty watertight.
The next big thing is the trip with Hazel, David and later Steve to see Gladys and the Cairngorms for a bit. We head off towards the end of next week, so I have a while to get stuff together, and, above all, recover! Distressingly my camera has decided to stop focusing (I know how it feels sometimes) so it looks like I'll be reduced to using a disposable for the duration of the Scotland trip.
Due to camera problems, not many photos were taken at Momentum. The above one illustrates the rain however. Bear in mind this was on arrival day... 4000 people trying to pitch tents in a muddy field in the torrential rain...

2006-08-16T15:26:00.000Z

It has been an action packed couple of days in some ways. Monday was the Baxter lad's birthday, so we (that is myself Tom and Dan, for the record) took a trip up the London eye and then moseyed (not sure how you mosey actually but we managed) through covent garden and up to Leicester Square. Yesterday the same people plus Dan's bro went to see Superman Returns..it is a brilliant film by the way, although we had subtitles for some not-yet-established reason, which took some time to ignore. Particularly noticeable were the intriguing allegories (not least the constant asking of the question of whether the world needs a saviour or not) and the fact that I still haven't quite got the theme music out of my head.

Today, partly as a preparation for my 24miler in Scotland later, and partly cos I love a jolly good walk, Dan Tom and myself (again!) walked from Farnham to Shalford (just south of Guildford), a satisfying but not record shattering 11 miles. Photos, would be attached but the blog site is being annoying, so just look at my facebook site to see them...

Post wedding reflections

2006-08-14T11:17:00.000Z

Well, my sister's wedding has come and gone in a flash of confetti, speeches and far too much food. It was a very nice day indeed, the service was excellent and the reception was great because you (or at least me, as bride's brother) could wander around and actually know about 70% of the people there, which made a change.

Unfortunately, due to some silly terrorist people (I think it was Dan who called them that, and me who suggested that a very good punishment for them would be to get them all in a big crowded room and get everyone to say 'silly' and point. I also pointed out, incidentally, that an interesting solution to the Israeli - Hezbola would take the form of a nice cup of tea and a chat. Which is exactly why I should never consider politics as a career) as I say, due to the terrorist people and the various flight cancellations, Clare and Andy's honeymoon has yet to start, or perhaps is being spent initially in various Heathrow hotels. Those of you who pray, please do so, that they'd get their holiday soon...I think they both desperately need to unwind after the craziness of wedding preparation, before heading back to their jobs!

So, this week I plan to at some stage do a walk from Farnham to Guildford half in preparation for our Scotland trip in September and half because I love to walk. But this afternoon a few of us are heading to London since it is Dan's 21st birthday and, amongst other things which fate may throw in our path, we are going on the London Eye.

Weddiung preparation mania

2006-08-11T09:06:00.000Z

Everyone in the house is hairing around today getting various things ready, zooming off to buy wedding things, like flowers and umbrellas and other essentials. I have been given the immense responsibility of making 50 extra service sheets. I am also awaiting a delivery of some drinks glasses. Last night was the wedding rehearsal. There seems to be a lot to remember even for humble ushers like me.
I have finally relented and joined 'facebook'. I have yet to work out what facebook actually is, but I have joined it. Hmmm.

Return to the 3 sided polygon

2006-08-09T18:18:00.000Z

For the past too days only I have returned to my old haunt at the Triangle Bookshop, a job I had previously last done about two years ago. They were desperate for people so I got a call and was dusted down and brought down from the attic for a while. Nothing has really changed there to be honest. They even still have the same hole punch.

On a drought in writing and another stag do

2006-08-07T17:51:00.000Z

We are still very much in the midst of wedding fever in this house. I spent some time today chopping up sheets with directions to the reception on them. Also, I have been reading my latest book (once again I can only rave incesently about it) Everything is Illuminated by Jonathon Safron Foer. It is one of those books which can make you laugh out loud, and then completely move you shortly afterwards, leaving you with no recollection of ever having laughed previously. It is the sort of book I would like to write.
Speaking of which, I have done very little writing recently, since the holiday club drama I wrote. I'm not sure why that is, either sheer laziness or a lack of ideas. Rightly or wrongly, I don't like to sit down and force myself to write, unless I actually having something I want to write. But I wonder if I'll actually come up with any ideas unless I write. It's a vicious cycle..although why such circles are always considered vicious, I have no idea. Vicious is a word that should be reserved for beasts like Exeter's psychopathic squirrels, which maliciously throw acorns at you, and quite probably laugh afterwards.
Saturday was Dave Salter's stag do. It was good fun, certainly. We went to the Great British Beer Festival at Earl's court, an event full of your average middle aged, cardigan wearing type bloke. And us, in all our shirt wearing, fresh faced, butter wouldn't melt, sweetness. There was even a brass band but, alas, no morris men.
We followed this up with a visit to the Fire Engine, a standard but nice restaurant next to Waterloo station. I recommend the duck. A particular highlight was joint best man Jon's speech which began, if I recall correctly, 'I am [pause] a very [pause] proud [pause] person...'. Bless him.

Alarming fact

2006-08-04T17:10:00.000Z

Someone recently told me that at nearly 21 I am reaching the peak of my physical prowess. I am worried. Either my peak is going to be more south downs than himalayas, or I am going to have to suddenly turn impressively strong, bannanaman style, in a very short space of time. To be honest, the first option sounds less painful.

A busier week than anticipated

2006-08-04T08:26:00.000Z

Actually, in the end its been a fairly busy week. Since Tuesday, I have become briefly (and perpexingly) addicted to cleaning windows, have finished reading about Paraguay.
It still seems like a very interesting place..it only has one dual carriageway, and that particular road ends in a cave apparently. Oh and it also once had one of the largest waterfalls in the world, allegedly bigger than the Iguazu Falls in Brazil, but it was dammed to create a hydroelectric power plant which produces many times more energy than Paraguay actually needs. Its a joint project with Brazil...well, ok, joint is pushing it a bit, it is closer to the truth to say that Praguay agreed to have great swathes of its forest flooded in order to create the dam, and Brazil chuckled with glee and watched the money roll in.
Yesterday Dad and I helped Clare move in to her soon to be new house (wedding is now only just over a week away). It was reasonably straightforward until we came to moving the flat pack wardrobe upstairs. That was a bit of an epic...
Later today its wedding order of service construction time.

Everybody is going crazy about fish pie apparently...

2006-08-01T17:43:00.000Z

I took a turn around London today. Officially the reason was to do some dissertation research, but actually very little of that was achieved. I popped into the Museum of London's thing about the victorians (pretty good) then walked along Holborn (of Bleak House fame). I then got a little lost (in order to look as little like a tourist as possible I refused to look at the map, and just used the in-built sense of direction I feel I must have being a sort of almost kind of near Londoner as well as a Devonian) and eventually found the Dickens museum. To be frank (and I don't say this about many places) it was rubbish, not at all worth the £4 I paid to get in. I thought it might get me all excited again about Dickens (I do love Dickens but at the moment I am thinking he is a little too overdone to be dissertation material), but it didn't really.

Later in the afternoon I popped into Stanfords, the best travel book and map shop in the world, and got quite excited for while at all the possibilities the globe has to offer. The world is quite big, it turns out. Incidentally I am currently reading a brilliant book about Paraguay. Paraguay it seems is a much more colourful sort of place than you'd imagine. Here's a fact...Did you know, 80% of Paraguay's population was wiped out in a single seige in the 19th century...

I ended, of course, with a trip to Foyles, the best bookshop ever known, where I had a mooch around for some time.
I do like to dissappear to places like London alone some times. I think a lot of people get mixed up between enjoying your own company once in a while (some people can't live with themselves, which is sad I always think) and being antisocial. The two are very different.

Lastly, Mum told us at dinner that everybody is going crazy about fish pies. I'm not sure I am, unless I am repressing my crazy fish pie obsessed self.

The dismantling of Andy Roid and a blank slate of a week...

2006-07-30T11:05:00.000Z

Holiday club week has come and gone, and was highly jolly. Sadly Andy Roid, the veneradble drama robot has been dismantled, as has the cast. I would imagine photos of the zaniness (great word) of the club will be available soon on the interweb.

Yesterday was Andy's (my future bro in law, not the aforementioned robot) stag do, which was a good laugh, karting at 9 in the morning was a unique experience, to say the least, but the smell
of oil and sweat seemed quite appropriate for the whole blokey stag thing as did the large cookedbreakfast at a resturant afterwards. The day then got steadily less blokey - we then went bowling and finished with, yep, a trip shopping...

For the first time this summer, I now eneter a period of not having much to do which should be a welcome release. I plan to go to the dentist (oooh) help clare move stuff to her very near future house on Thursday and maybe pop to London to get some dissertation inspiration (you call it keen, I call it resourceful) on another day. Then the second in a series of wedding related weekends...its Dave Salter's stag do (the last of the three is, of course, my sister's wedding...you following?)

P.S. Astonishingly this site has now been visited over 1100 times, and one of the latest visitors was from Amarillo, Texas, presumably of Peter Kay fame.

The reason for my long silence

2006-07-26T16:23:00.000Z

Well I am updating this by special request from Mr Salter. Essentially the reason I haven't updated it for a long time is that it is holiday club week at St Peter's so there's heaps going on, what with producing the drama (look out for the lightsabre battles coming up tommorrow and Friday, the first of which we have just been practicing) and trying to maintain enthusiasm during the afternoon workshops, which are fun but come during the hottest part of what are generally very hot days.

But I have a weekend to look forward to, a weekend which brings my soon to be bro in law's stag do (karting at 9 in the morning...hmmm...) and ANOTHER holiday club drama (the last) on Sunday which is, I admit, yet to be written - that's tongiht's job.

Getting anorakishness out of my system..honest.

2006-07-20T17:56:00.000Z

I can still be found down at the Farnborough station dressed in a red jump suit handing out copies of 'Flight Daily News' for one more day, after which I can be found at St Peter's hairing around trying to get 7 dramas together for the holiday club, probably dressed as a robot.
Today after work I decided to have a look at the airshow in the afternoon, since my staff pass lets me in for free. It was quite a spectacle actually...attached are some photos which don't really do it justice at all.

Jeb Bush misses out on a copy of 'Flight Daily News'

2006-07-17T16:55:00.000Z

One of the major advantages of my job, it would appear from today's experience, is that as I am based at Farnborough Station and not on the airshow site, when we run out of newspapers we really have run out, and we are not expected to go and help on the show site. Today for example, we ran out at about 10:15, so I was home by 10:30. Lets just hope this doesn't mean I get paid less, I am, after all, still officially off duty at 12.

It is fairly easy work, though one fraught moment occured this morning when a policeman shouted at me for standing in the wrong place - apparently Jeb Bush was coming through the station on his way to the aurshow(as in the american President's brother) and they wanted to clear the area. Understandable I guess, though who's to say bro Bush himself might not have wanted a copy of the day's airshow news? Though to be honest, I didn't recognise him when he did come through, I just saw somebody get into a smart limo and get driven away.

The rest of the day I did more bits and pieces towards the holiday club drama next week, and occasionally gazed at the sky as that big new airbus, or a mig or whatever flew over the house. We even got a brief flypast from the red arrows today, presumably opening the show, though they'll be back at the weekend, I expect.

I've said it once and I'll say it again:- how difficult it is not to sound like a planespotter during the airshow week...

Rules for survival # 1: Always see the funny side..

2006-07-16T12:03:00.000Z

..especially when you find out that instead of working at the world's biggest airshow handing out newspapers you're going to be standing in Farnborough station handing out newspapers to people going to the airshow, whilst wearing, wait for it, a red jump suit. Say no more, I'll never live this one down, but I don't hide anything form you dear readers, even the most embarrasing job ever created.

This entry has nothing to do with giraffes, unfortunately if you like them.

2006-07-12T17:05:00.000Z

Well, only two days left at my current work which is good. All I need now is for the agency who are supposed to be sorting my work at the Airshow next week to give me some idea of when/where/what my job will be. It'd help if they told me.

Tom's party was top-notch, the food was excellent and his parents' new house in Farnham has, quite frankly, the largest gardens I have seen for quite a while. They just go on and on.
Today is my Peruvian anniversary, a year ago today we were flying out with trepidation at the start of seven weeks in Peru. I texted folk from the team for some idea f how they planned to spend it and answers ranged from walking, to working, to nbot doing much, to working at the Cheltenham music festival, to preparing for what potentially could be a very wet barbeque in Limavady, Ireland which may well have to take place in empty potato sheds. What an eclectic bunch of folks we are.

The excitement of the coming Airshow never quite wears off, no matter how long you live here...

2006-07-11T17:13:00.000Z

My blog entries will continue to be brief for now. Apologies to the rest of you. The Farnborough Airshow is coming, though working in Guildford means I miss the planes doing their practise runs. However I just saw my first plane, an F16, fly over the house. All very exciting, and fingers crossed I'll be working there next week. I get a little bit anorak-ish about the airshow, even though I've lived here all my life and the airshow comes round every two years.
Work checking scripts is fairly unexciting still, though my output of checked scripts is increasing.
off to Tom's 21st birthday bbq this eve. I mention it only cos I know as one of my most avid readers he would appreciate it.
I must go and wrap his present...ooooh!

Very brief

2006-07-06T17:16:00.000Z

Yesterday we were moved down into the basement, doing the same job but with no windows, and no natural light. Pleasant.
Today however, I did have quite an entertaining time checking some GCSE 'citizenship' exams. Not many people can name the head of state apparently, sorry your highness.

A short reflection on my temporary job.

2006-07-04T16:35:00.000Z

My job, since you ask, is very tedious but has been going well, since I am unexpectedly joined in the office in Guildford by none other than Mr Phil Hudson and Mr David Salter, this makes what is universally acknowledged to be a fairly uneventful line of work, infinitely more interesting. My overall conclusion from my job of correcting examiners mistakes is that examiners make a lot of mistakes, possibly more than the candidates.
Its a bit like being a chicken in a battery with 799 other chickens actually. Or like a Communist work camp. Every so often some names are read out, and those people leave their tables and disappear, perhaps never to be seen again.
Oh, and I passed the maths test first time by the way. I glow with pride.

Eeee by gum...

2006-07-02T16:55:00.000Z

...it is hot isn't it?

I'm now back at the family home in Farnborough for a few months, and tommorrow is my first day at my new job (for two weeks), adding up the marks on exam papers. But by golly, I hear you cry, you are an english student, you can't add up! Too true, my friend, but I have been doing lots of practice and Dad has helpfully pointed out an ingenious method so now I like to think that I am unstoppable. I am rather nervous about tommorrow however. How long will it take before they find out that until last week I actually physically shook at the sight of a large addition sum?

Dad has radically redevelped the garden since I was here last. I am very impressed.

Summer Ball Revelrys and Lydford Gorge

2006-06-28T09:33:00.000Z

Well I am just about regaining my concept of the time of day, following the Summer Ball on Monday night. It was a brilliant night, which began in an almost unprecedentedly sophisticated manner, with Cava and strawberries at Fliss's, and intelligent conversation. Following this what we shall call champagne reception, we migrated to the ball and an excellent night ensued, complete with dodgems (though it took me a while to realise that I needed to turn the steering wheel in order to cease going round and round in circles backwards), jazz, swanning around in tuxedos, and watching the Fun Loving Criminals (ok, I know there's no 'g' in Loving in this case, but it feels so wrong to leave it out), who, to my surprise, I rather liked.

We were also treated to that other guy, you know, the one who sang 'I am the One and Only'. That particular song came right near the end of his set after a series of covers, the worst of which was an absolutely tragic cover of 'Imagine'. To his credit, he was particularly good at the fancy stuff, performing some bewildering jumps from the drum kit, and chucking his guitar in the air, and, perhaps disappointingly, not dropping it. Chesney Hawkes, that's the guys name.

A good few of us did not, regretably, make the survivors photo, leaving, as we did
shortly after three. But that's plenty late enough for a morning person like me.

Yesterday Lucy, James and myself took a little day trip up to Lydford Gorge in the northwest corner of Dartmoor. It was a very nice day indeed.

The uncanny pull of Exmouth beach

2006-06-26T09:38:00.000Z

There's nothing quite like Exmouth Beach, despite its inherent lack of class. I've been there twice in the last two days. The first was Saturday evening when Pray-Eng (the name Johnny came up with for the English students prayer group - ingenious, I think you'll agree) went for some crazed frisbee throwing on the beach. We arrived to find that many folk not only from NFI but also a large group of people, many of them CU folks, were celebrating a couple of birthdays, so we sort of merged, and despite the fact that we managed to lose a rather nice frisbee to the sea, it was excellent fun. We even got a brief visit from Scooby Doo, so there you go.

Yesterday was fairly eventful. After the morning service at Belmont, I popped home before myself and James went to watch England's skin of the teeth win over Ecuador at Irish Tash's, whilst eating skittles. Having bade farewell to the aforementioned Gallic Lass (who is in Spain next year), I then went on to the Evening service at Belmont, before finding myself on Exmouth beach again this time with other Belmontian folks playing a rather intense game of ultimate frisbee. Apologies must go the numerous folks I fowled shockingly, particularly Johnny (who I clobbered over the head accidentally when attempting to leap for the frisbee - a different Johnny, incidentally, to the aforementioned) and Mark (whose presence I tried to wave away comically but instead I managed to slap). So sorry about that. I have a kind of competitive edge with which I shock myself sometimes.

Tonight is the Summer Ball, for which I probably ought to iron some trousers, and straighten out a tux.

The post exam-lull

2006-06-24T11:33:00.000Z

I am having a fairly relaxed couple of days before what I imagine will be a rather packed week next week, and before heading home next Saturday to begin my fairly busy July.
Thus I have been reading Tess of the D'Urbervilles, an awesomely good Thomas Hardy novel - some might say it is depressing, I prefer to use the words 'brooding' and 'brilliant'.

I have also got a rekindled interest in Exeter's past, and the next time someone comes to visit they will have a slightly revised tour, including a pub which once played host to Dickens (incidentally there is a house in Alphington on the outskirts of Exeter where Dickens' parents once lived), the first building in England ever to be called a 'hotel', and the site of the old roman baths. This morning I had a little investigation of some of those places.

So it'll be another lazy afternoon, but this evening myself and other folk in our little English students prayer group will be heading to Exmouth beach. Hopefully we will also be treated to a rather good sunset...perhaps photos will follow.

The weather being stunning today, I will now find myself some lunch and perhaps enjoy our humble little garden with a good book unless anything else comes up. You've got to love the post-exam lull...

On the Belmont student houseparty and saying goodbye.

2006-06-22T08:50:00.000Z

Yesterday and the day before, a group of us students from Belmont Chapel went to a little house in the middle of Dartmoor to spend time with each other and God. Not only did we get a couple of really helpful and challenging talky bits from none other than Mr Derek Burnside, but we also spent time striding around the moor, and even swimming in the stream. Actually, I'll be brutally honest and say that I didn't actually swim, I just sort of waded, because it was farily freezing, but others including, yes, you guessed it, Burnside himself, plunged themselves into the icey depths with tremendous vigour. Unfortunately it was over all too quickly, since it was great to spend time in the middle of nowhere with such a lovely bunch of people.
Since I know that Ed now reads this blog, I will take this opportunity to thank him and the other contact workers for organising it! Cheers!

Its all a bit sad at the moment, if I'm honest, because since myself and many of my mates are about to finish the second year, an alarming number of people aren't going to be around next year, either doing years abroad or, shock horror, leaving glorious Devon altogether. I am one of those people that really, really, really does not like goodbyes, because I love getting to know people really well, and finding out what makes them tick, and perhaps equally importantly, what makes them chuckle. So its a huge shame to say bye to folk, but its also exciting, because in many cases people are off to do hugely exciting things and, hey, God goes with them - and what could be better than that?

That's enough for today.

Pause button.

2006-06-18T21:33:00.000Z

I reach for the pause button. Hold. Stop. Disengage.

Everything, somewhere, is being thought.

Looks like rain.

When did it happen?

Can’t stand wearing ties.

Just smile.

He’ll be home soon.

Too much to do.

Make the day stop.

I love the dawn.

Everything, somewhere, is happening.

A tapestry of moments,

A ball in mid air

A dog about to catch it,

A flock of pigeons

preparing to flee,

A tree bending in the wind

Its leaves caught and twisted,

A finger about to press a key and complete his vers

Fear not friends, blogging WILL continue....

2006-06-18T08:58:00.000Z

So, there we have it. I appealed to the public to encourage me to carry on blogging, and I have been duly encouraged. Thankyou.

The past week has been fairly busy despite the fact that all uni work for the 2nd year is now consigned to the annals of my life history. Hazel popped down from Bristol to see me and Rach and activities undertaken included an exceptionally rainy trip up to Dartmoor from the little town of Ivybridge, the obligatory Exmouth beach trip (which was mainly cloudy but pleasant) and a somewhat one-sided game of tennis. We also went to Arena on Wednesday night. Suffice it to say that they were definitely not playing cheese.

Other than that, I have been having a gloriously relxing weekend, I did very little yesterday apart from a brief stint doing the breakfast shift at Crossline, though I have a horrible feeling I may have missed the rather amazing sounding Belmont Chapel ceiledh (not sure thats how you spell it, but bear with me) - at the time it was on, I believe I would have been watching the highly entertaining if slightly farcical Italy - USA match. Today, other than going to Belmont this morning I plan to again do relatively little, but certainly I shall aim to watch the Brazil game this evening...

Excellently, I have now finished the holiday club drama for this years St Peter's Holiday club. Expect lightswords, robots and all sorts of space-related fun.

I understand many of my good friends from home have now returned back to dear old Farnborough. Say hello to it for me, and tell it I will return in two weeks.

Seeking some encouragement...

2006-06-17T14:44:00.000Z

I thought I had updated this, but it didn't seem to happen. And if I am honest I can't really be bothered to write out again what I wrote a couple of days ago...
Is this the point at which my little blogging adventure draws to a close??

In which I go to Sidmouth and share the experience with more old people than I would ideally like.

2006-06-09T08:44:00.000Z

Ok, so my exciting two-parter on Tuesday didn't quite happen, but suffice it to say that as a result of my trip to the barbers, my hair is now shorter. Which is nice, particularly in a practical sense, since now it won't overheat.

So basically the rest of this week I have done a lot of stuff, despite the fact that I have not had a lot of stuff to do. On Wednesday I pottered about mostly, doing bits of drama writing and reading my book (the fantastic Yes Man by Danny Wallace; its a highly entertaining read - yes I know I' am a literature student and should read more challenging stuff, but I felt like a bit of a change. If it helps Tess of the D'Urbervilles is next but one on my reading list...)

Yesterday I took a random trip to Sidmouth. It was just a nice way of getting out somewhere a bit different and not being in the house to distract hard-working housemates. I realised as soon as I got to the bus station that it was going to be a day shared with lots of old people, and oh how old people will talk about anything and everything, a fact that is at first slightly endearing but after a while rather annoying. So I was pleased to get off the bus, to explore Sidmouth, although exploring was made rather harder for the fact that I left my glasses at home accidentally because I was wearing my sunglasses. From what I saw, Sidmouth was a really lovely place, by which I mean it created a series of very attractive blurry shapes. I sat and read, mostly although I went on a little walk up the cliffs, which was very nice indeed.
Then on the way back I once again was privileged to be subjected to endless chatter from old people about feet, gardening and grandchildren. Oh by the way, another interesting thing about old people is that they categorize people by how much they pay on the bus. Thus, when remarking on her fellow passengers, a lady behind me said 'there's only a couple of full fares on the bus. That boy in front is. Shouldn't he be in school anyway'. I mean, honestly, do I look 16? Don't answer that, for pity's sake.

The weather is rather stunning at the moment, in case you hadn't noticed. It has almost rendered the weather forecast entirely useless, since every time it comes on the weather bloke just waves his arms around an entirely cloudless picture of Britian.

A visit from an Oxfordian Gentlemen, and the rise of Performance Prose Poetry...

2006-06-06T08:54:00.000Z

Today my entry is likely to appear in two parts, since I plan to go to the barbers today, and I am inclined to think that something is bound to happen there. The exact nature of that thing remains to be seen. I always find that barbers are eventful places.

On Sunday, David (a la Peru) arrived for a little visit. We did the usual tour of Exeter (a tour which I am steadily perfecting) ending, of course, in Bostons. Then, after the evening service at Belmont there was a sort of open mic night at the cafe, in which I was delighted to be able to share small bits of my poetry. To my positive surprise Temporary Insomnia (you saw it first here) went down rather well when performed dramatically. This has now meant that I can refine the definition of that genre to 'performance prose poetry', and I like to think I am at the cutting edge of this [searches carefully for an appropriate word] blossoming form of literature. It was even, to my considerable astonishment, compared to stand up comedy. I had no idea...

Yesterday James, David and I took a trip to Teignmouth, just along the coast. I don't think I've ever been there this close to the summer before, and it was very nice, but full of people. Actually the fact that it was full of people I found slightly confusing. After all they all seemed so purposeful and busy when there's really very little to do in Teignmouth. Its one of those places where the most significant decision that needs to be made is where to sit next. Unless they are employed by the town council to make the place look busy.

Double Locks

2006-06-04T09:07:00.000Z

We haven't had too many photos for a while, have we, so I thought I'd give you a few snaps of last night's glorious evening at Double Locks, which, for those of you who don't know, is a fine and popular little pub a little way down the canal from the centre of Exeter. I apololgise that the one with the microlights is rather tilted. If you tilt your head, it compensates. Trust me.

Do not read if you are still immersed in exams. It'll only enrage you...

2006-06-03T13:47:00.000Z

Well i don't mean to make anybody jealous but yes, I have indeed finished my exams. And it is good. Both went ok, though American Lit this morning was considerably better than yesterday's exam.
Ah well, that's all over.
First thing I did when I got home today? Had a ham sandwich and a cold beer in the garden. It was lovely. Next thing I did? I went to buy some new shorts. Smashing.
And now? I'm going to read a book in the garden.
Blinder.

Notice to reader

2006-05-30T08:28:00.000Z

Thankyou for coming back to my blog, dear reader. Just thought I'd inform you that it is unlikely it will be updated this week unless anything monumental happens, since pretty much all I'm doing is revising, and its not very interesting.

Take care lads and laddesses,
Dave

You can tell a lot about a man from his desk

2006-05-25T21:55:00.000Z

Forgive me if today's blog makes little sense. I am writing it whilst listening to the latest podcast of the BBC's From Our Own Correspondent. I recommend it if you want to keep up with the whats going on in the world, but also to have a personal take on things from some of the BBC's top reporters. And no, they aren't paying me. At the moment theu're talking about relations between Greece and Turkey following Tuesday's mid-air collison between to fighter jets.

I've been revising mainly, which is not very interesting, if I'm honest. I have tried to make it interesting by reading around the topics, and by watching Shakespeare adaptations. Today I saw a slightly flimsy BBC version of Henry IV part 1, which amusingly ended with the fight between the two main characters, clad fully in armour, wrestling on the ground in the middle of the Battle of Shrewsbury. Quite why they dispensed with swords, I have no idea. It reminded me, strangely, of Monty Python.

Tonight though, I had a nice break from revision for the Globe bbq outside Lafrowda Quad...the rain held off (thanks God) and it was an excellent and popular evening. The number of times I ran into various bushes whilst pursuing frisbees though...

I think you can tell a lot about a man's approach to revision by looking at his desk. The picture shows clearly that my approach to revision is...dynamic...

A wet (but not miserable) day with Cymbeline

2006-05-23T12:41:00.000Z

I'm spending the revising part of the day with Shakespeare's Cymbeline today - its all very exciting. This morning I watched the BBC's rather dated version from the early 1970s. It was surprisingly good, particularly since the play can so easily turn into farce. It was still fairly laughable at points though.

I have also established today (for the nth time) that umbrellas and wind do not mix. I popped down to the Spar at exactly the same time as it chose to rain very hard and to be very windy and cold. The mixture was actually quite entertaining, (you'll be delighted to hear that much of the short walk was spent trying to reunite both halves of my umbrella) and not, as LHD, Tim and the weatherlady have suggested 'miserable'. Weather can't be miserable, and as far as I'm concerned weather shouldn't make me miserable either. There's an old icelandic saying (or it may be Swiss, OR I may have made it up) that the weather is only bad if you aren't dressed right. That is the theory anyway...

Back to Cymbeline...

Chocolate, smoothies, and traditions not upheld.

2006-05-21T08:44:00.000Z

Last night we watched the Johnny Depp Charlie and the Chocolate Factory film. Actually, when we first began to watch it we realised we ought to be munching some chocolate at the same time so having got some, we continued and it improved the film somewhat. It wasn't a bad film, it was definitely quite entertaining with a few lines that were genuinely laugh out loud. But it was also very, very strange...
The chocolate was very good.

Globe cafe have just purchased a smoothie maker, which will probably be used next September for the first time - and if Belmont cafe's smoothie maker is anything to go by should proove rather popular. Its important we know exactly how said smoothie maker functions. So I have been, and plan to continue testing it out. Yesterday I created Mango and Orange smoothie which was nice, but it turns out mangos are rather expensive. So I shall try something else at some stage.

I missed the Eurovision Song Contest last night. I have to say, I don't feel too distraught by that fact. I'm good without seeing Finnish death metal to be honest. But I'd like to thank the Irish, on behalf of the British for voting for us. We appreciate it. Good craic.

Reflections on 'White Noise'

2006-05-18T15:50:00.000Z

There is something very tragic about postmodernism. That's what I have concluded this week. The last novel in our American Lit module was a Don Delillo novel White Noise (which has nothing to do with the disturbing horror film which I have never seen and which I believe is also called 'White Noise'). It's an excellent read, very funny and very clever. But I see it as a tragedy at the same time. The main character, an academic in an American university, spends his life trying to find some sort of anchor in a world which he sees as being without any fixed point. He finds this anchor in the commercial world of the supermarket, or in his position as lecturer of 'Hitler Studies', or, at least to begin with, from the stability of his wife. But when he realises that his wife shares his deepest fears (namely death) he is left with very little left on which to hang.

Postmodernists have a determination to savour every little bit of the world, which is admirable - the world is essentially a marvellous place, and its so important that we see that, in a world which is increasingly divorcing itself of beauty and significance. Postmodernism seeks to elevate the 'insignificant', and I certainly share its ideals of trying to draw attention to the bits of life so often missed. One of my favourite novels If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things, is itself, I guess, postmodernist. But the way I see it, the reason that 'insignificant things' in our world need to be seen as remarkable is because of what, or rather who, they so often point to. It is a different way of seeing the world, which makes us realise quite how complex the world is. If it is an end in itself, if I study and marvel at a leaf simply because it is a leaf and not because it points to something beyond itself, I guess I'm missing a trick.

P.S. I have just invested in the new Snow Patrol album. Buy it, its brilliant.

The promised land of After Exams

2006-05-16T08:36:00.000Z

There must be some mistake. The postman just walked straight past our door. We always get post! What's going on? Sorry, but I just needed to get that off my chest.

Anyway, for some reason things are rather manic at the moment, the days are passing in a whirl of meetings, work shifts, revision and lectures.

I have been lending some thought to what I might get up to when its 'all over' - that is when I am done with exams (all two of them) and so forth. I am considering paying a visit to Oxford, there are numerous housepartys happening (CU, Globe, Belmont) from I must choose, as well as my determination to find out whether rumours that Honiton is a haven for those who, like myself, love bookshopping are true...and another determination to check out Honiton's Boston Tea Party and compare it to Exeter's. On top of that Exeter is once again hosting the visit of a member of STEP team Peru 2005, in this case its Hazel again but for slightly longer this time and with the promise of a slightly warmer trip to the beach.

So, until then I am engrossed in revision. I am rediscovering Bostons as a valuable revision tool, there is something about the hubbub there which works beautifully as a sound to work to. If Bostons were to sell a cd of 'The Bostons Sound' as a kind of revision aid, I would be the first to buy it.

On baring my legs to the world, and learning of my future prospects.

2006-05-13T17:12:00.000Z

Well, today has brought mainly lots of work and a Globe cafe co-ordinators meeting which I cleverly managed to make sure took place in Bostons. Any excuse.

While we're on the subject of Globe, on Thursday evening, Globe cafe gave me the excuse to wear shorts and generally look summery for the first time this year, since we took a trip to the beach, and, amazingly it was nice and warm. There was a stunning sunset actually, but I managed to forget my camera so was unable to record said work of artistery. No matter though, I expect there will be more evening beach trips before the term is out. It was, however, a privilege to bare my legs to the general public. I hope they felt the same. Not my legs, the general public you understand. Time to hastily bail out of this paragraph.

Other than that I have been phoning people to get them to give money to uni. It is fascinating to see what the english graduates have been doing with their degrees. It would appear that the general story is that they have mostly spent several years not being quite sure what to do and then have either been blessed with a way into the publishing industry, or have finally given in and gone into teaching. How uplifting.

Yesterday we watched The Legend of Zorro. For what it was it was ok. For what it was. But what it was was rather bad. If you follow.

Midweek reflections

2006-05-10T10:29:00.000Z

I had some trouble getting into the house just now. I had to step over a large hole, because they are putting in a water meter for us. The house is also somewhat dingier than is usual due to the excessive amounts of dust in the air. Its like going back to the victorian times.
Speaking of which, I am currently addicted (as well as to the Archers) to Bleak House the DVD. I have of course seen all the episodes once when they were on telly but it is no less excellent the second time.

Speaking of which, (not really, just trying to get a bit of continuity going) 0n Monday I had a rather productive session of work in Bostons. I was in there doing revision for about three and a half hours fairly solid, and in that time only bought one coffee. I must do it again soon. I was looking in part at A Streetcar Named Desire - excellent play.

Other than all this, I am happy to say that my first shift of calling people to raise money for the University Foundation was excellent fun, and involved some marvellous conversations with people. If, by some extraordinary, unlikely and inexplicable co-incidence anybody is reading this who I phoned yesterday (Iam not good at statistics, so have no idea of the chances), thanks!
]
Right, must get down to work before Pie Shopping time.

Weekend (imaginative title)

2006-05-08T08:04:00.000Z

It was a busy but fairly pleasant weekend this weekend. On Saturday I had training for my new job. For two nights a week from tommorrow night I will be phoning graduates of Exeter to get some contact details and other details and also to try and raise money for the University's Annual Fund. It might prove an interesting job...and i feel slightly better about doing it for the fact that these aren't cold calls (the alumni get letters warning of them beforehand and can opt out) and for the fact that the conversation is not at all hard-sell and a large proportion of it is friendly nostalgic chatter about the University and city. You never know, I may even get to talk to some english graduates to see what on earth they found to do with a BA in english. The training on Saturday I sort of enjoyed (despite myself).
Yesterday after the morning service at Belmont, our house group had a very pleasant bring and share meal (Natasha and I made brownies) the highlight of which was the Lasagne (but of course Derek Burnside's small random salmon things were also brilliant..as was the large amount of bread contributed by Johnny.) It was a lovely couple of ours spent largely watching a very entertaining one and a half year old called Ben.

I also spent some of the weekend starting to write the Holiday Club drama for my home church, ready for late July. I will reveal nothing significant about it here (you never know who reads this thing), other than to say that the first episode features (hopefully) space hoppers.

Anyway, that's about all the random info I have on this weekend.

People that I think are the postman keep wandering past the window. Its not that I'm waiting for any specific post, but I'm one of these people for whom the postman's visit is still a very exciting part of the day.

Plot spoiler: they turned out to be from Birmingham...

2006-05-05T16:04:00.000Z

Today I walked through town and to my astonishment I heard music which was somewhat familiar. I altered my course as swiftly as I could only to discover there, in front of me, the legendary band that is Alborada! It is hard to explain my excitement at this, but I should probably attempt to do so. Alborada are a sort of pseudo-Inca band who are aimed almost entirely at tourists in Cuzco, and who were played in just about every restaurant we went to in that gringo-populated city. It was shortly after this that I was informed by Oli that he had also previously sighted Alborada in both Bury St Edmunds and Sheffield. Even more shockingly he claims they are from Birmingham.
As you can imagine I found that news rather shattering. But I'm trying to ignore it.

This entry contains more than the average number of Irish folk

2006-05-02T21:08:00.000Z

Before I begin I should point out that I didn't make it to church on Sunday morning after all. I was called a wimp by Irish Natasha because I didn't want to cross the road in front of large running rugby player athletic types who were running in two directions. I know! You'd have to be a man of steel to manage it. Or irish.

Yesterday, after a nice bank holiday involving work, a pub lunch at the Ram and more work, Rachel P and myself went to officially greet Gladys (also Irish) who arrived at Exeter airport to begin her Official Tour of England, stopping off at the residences of various members of Equipo STEP Peru 2005. Yesterday eve we enjoyed a quiet drink in George's and today after Rachel and Gladys' ' girly morning' (quite what that involved I never established though puzzlingly enough I am told hot squash had an important role in proceedings) I met up with them for lunch at The Mill on the Exe followed by the increasingly famous 'Sherv Tour' of Exeter, ending, of course, at Bostons.
Incredibly Gladys managed something quite extraordinary during the trip. Rachel and myself showed her the large sculpture of the Exeter riddle on the high street. To our amazement, Gladys managed to solve all the parts of the riddle. In fairness she did so by noticing that the answer is actually very clearly given if you know where to look. I shall, however, remain quiet so as not to spoil it for the rest of you when you come and visit.
So now we have passed Gladys on to Hazel in Bristol, and life continues in jolly old Exeter.

Bank holiday weekend frivolities

2006-04-30T08:55:00.000Z

On Friday night, we watched City of God which it turns out is very good indeed. It is an extraordinarily powerful film, and, dare I say it, some of the images of the shanty town in which the town was set seemed, at least in flavour, to bare a passing resemblance to Florencia de Mora. So yes, it was indeed a fine film.

Yesterday a happy band of us descended on the beach at Budleigh Salterton, since in our own impatient minds, summer must surely have begun. In the event, the weather was reasonably good, and very sunny at some points. Highlights of the day included an expedition byLHD, me, Tim and John to the other end of the beach which involved fording the surprisingly deep and rather swift mouth of the River Otter, the brilliant lunch compiled by Fliss, Lucy and James, and of course, throwing stones (and occasionally rocks) at one another. Simple pleasures.

Yesterday evening we had an excellent barbeque (the first of the year, and no doubt, the first of many) in our lovely little garden, as the sun sank and the sky darkened. Ahhhhh.

Today will be marked by a significant logisitical challenge. Its the Great West Run today which basically means that unless you are silly enough to take part (although of course I respect those who do!) its very difficult to get anywhere in Exeter. It so happens that all available routes to Belmont chapel for the morning service must pass roads which are part of the race course. Last year I failed to get there from halls, after trying various routes for about half an hour; this year I'm going to give it my best shot - you never know, I might come across someone I know doing the race anyway...

The consequences of living in a democracy...

2006-04-28T08:26:00.000Z

Well, I have just enough time before my lecture this morning - yep, lecture this morning, because of the bank holiday next Monday - to give you a quick resume of the situation this week. It would appear that one third of the english lecturers are on strike, which on the face of it sounds great (free holiday - hurrah!) but actually its not really quite like that. In fact they are taking 'action short of a strike' which basiclly means they are withholding the marks from any assessed work we happen to do. For some reason English seems to be hit pretty hard by it, and its beginning to matter because today should have been the day when I got my assessed essays from before Easter back. But no, I won't see them until the end of the strike. Ho hum, what it is to live in a democracy. At the moment its just a bit irritating, but if it continues on into next term (which potentially it could, although it is reasonably unlikely that it will) it might mean that I go into my final year with absolutely no idea how I am doing in terms of credits, especially since they will also withhold our marks from our exams this coming June. And its considerably worse for third years - they stand to not be able to graduate if they don't have a grade. What is doubly annoying is that in both my seminars this week the tutor has spent half an hour trying to explain all thi, thus cutting away at even more time. Obviously its good they are keeping us updated, but does that really need to happen in the middle of a seminar? As you can possibly tell, I am rather annoyed, though a part of me completely understands...or slightly understands...why the lecturers are striking.

And now I must go and be lectured about metaphysical poets.

Two revelations....

2006-04-25T22:01:00.000Z

It is with regret that I must inform you all that I have recently fallen back into an old addiction I thought I had managed to crush. Unfortunately I am now finding it very difficult to miss even a single episode of The Archers. I am more and more frequently removing myself from the living room, closing the door and listening to the latest episode on the internet, and will often growl if I am interrupted. I admit, I need help. However, it is, I guess, familiar territory. Perhaps this latest addiction is rather more healthy than my other shameful secret. But here I am admitting in public that I do indeed find it difficult to go for more than a few weeks without watching Finding Nemo. Oh dear.

A sort of experimental bit of writing

2006-04-23T13:03:00.000Z

This is kind of a piece of experimental prose-poetry. Its a reasonably accurate account of the often irritating process that is trying to get to sleep.

Temporary Insomnia

Find a good position. Head on edge of pillow, one hand across chest, the other raised beside head.

Big sigh.

Get ready to sleep. Next thing I know I’ll be awake the next morning. Funny thing, sleep. Very funny thing. Amazing to think I can actually switch off, completely off. Time can sort of cease to exist for a while. Funny thing.

Shouldn’t spend too long thinking about it. That’s always a huge error. Spend too long thinking about it and you’ll just stay awake. Just don’t think of anything. Try and stop all thoughts and just let your mind wander and wander and wander its easy it won’t be a problem its easy its easy so easy its easy so easy its eas....

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

A tapping noise.

Not from me, not from my mind, from somewhere else.

The room. Its from the room.

Don’t open eyes. Don’t open eyes.

Eyes have been open for some time. Can make out the wall and the cupboard.

Tap, tap, tap.

Don’t get up.

Get up, find out what it is.

Reach for light switch and get out of bed.

Tap, tap/tick, tick.

From clock. Take the batteries out, throw on floor, find proper place for them later.

Back into bed, light off.

Eyes closed. New position, face the other way. Same position, just the other way around.

Seagulls. That single word in my head. Why? No great attachment to seagulls. Soaring soaring. Fragile + beautifully strong + wind on my face + salt in the air then diving diving diving diving diving down towards the waves down and down and down and down and nothing and nothing and nothing and noth…

And eyes flick open. No reason. Eyes flick open, their own masters.

Still awake. Still wide awake. Been asleep? No. Yes. No. Big sigh.

Reach for watch. Long time later. Long time later. Been asleep.

Or time gone fast.

Big sigh.

Face the ceiling. Face up. Like dead. Don’t move.

Don’t move. You’ll only wake up. DO NOT MOVE.

Itchy nose.

DO NOT MOVE.

Itchy nose.

DO NOT MOVE

ITCHY NOSE, DO NOT MOVE, ITCHY NOSEDONOTMOVEITCHYNOSEDO NOT MOVE ITCHY NOSE DONO ITCHY NOSE ITCHY NOSE ITCHY NOSE

Ok!

Move!

I move.

Back to first position, facing across room. Head on edge of pillow, one hand across chest, the other raised beside head.

Give up

Just lie there.

Just lie there, eyes closed, wait for morning.

Eyes closed.

Clo…

Eyes snap open.

Daylight.

David Shervington, 2006

Culture, bikes, and some very big guns.

2006-04-22T16:48:00.000Z

So, I am now safely installed back in glorious Exeter. Since I have been here, not only have we been to get some food but I have been to town, seen various drawings by Leonardo da Vinci, some impressive microscopic shots of things and lots of brilliant photos of all things British at the museum (incredible, if you are in Exeter any time for the next few weeks go and look - there's a lot there at the mo) and I have even bought and fitted a new inner tube for my (somewhat neglected) bike, as well as cleaning it with a view to eventually using it. So Its been a nice and productive day.

Yesterday was good too. Six (over half) of Peru STEP team 2005 descended on London. We saw lots of big horse-drawn guns go off for the Queen's birthday in Hyde Park (no-one could quite work out why the Queen would want a load of loud noises to mark her birthday, she is getting fairly old so it seems rather unfair to scare the poor dear). We also had a game of Uno whilst we were waiting, which, of course, I lost. Other events included a second trip to see the pile of white boxes in the Tate Modern (worth every penny: i.e. its free) and watching a man juggle a pick axe and a chainsaw whilst eating an apple in Covent Garden. It was very special, and has given me an idea as to where my English degree might lead... The attached photos show Gladys Becky and Hazel waiting for the guns to go off and wisely protecting there ears, and the other shows the guns going off with a random woman with her fingers in her ears (somewhere behind that plume of smoke is a recently fired gun). Thought they both captured the experience perfectly.

In the evening I had a nice meal out with the 'rents and Andy and Clare, which was excellent, and, apparently to 'celebrate the fact that David is going back to uni'. Hmmm...

'Shakespeare Behind Bars'

2006-04-20T09:15:00.000Z

The other night I saw one of the best things I've ever seen on telly. No exaggeration. Well, slight exaggeration but it was good, and to be fair I don't really watch much telly, so I don't have much to compare it to. The programme was about a project to put on Shakespeare plays in an American medium security prison, and the cast was entirely made up of convicts. The film followed them as they prepared to put on The Tempest (chosen because of its themes of redemption and its setting on an island - much like the seclusion of a prison). But the film also looked into the lives of the prisoners, and they said some incredible things. I remember one guy was talking about forgiveness - 'I can't find it in myself' he said 'and I can't find it in other people, so what am I supposed to do?'. Another guy said that he fekt that he had come to a point where he could forgive himself, 'and yet' he said' there's still something missing'. Though provoking stuff.

Anyway, I must dash -have to go and show my Uncle how to use his computer...unfortunately I probably have less idea than him, but I won't tell him that!

Easter Greetings

2006-04-18T08:29:00.000Z

A belated Happy Easter to you all (I say in my best Queen-like voice)...

Well it was a pleasant Easter break, it must be said (the word 'break' here is used fairly loosely since I am in fact nearing the end of a much longer 3 week break). the main things I remember from the weekend are: cleaning garden pots for my Dad, going on a rather misguided walk with my Sister and her Andy (misguided in the sense that upon being given a left/right choice, I chose right and thus rather than walking by a pleasant lake on Easter Monday, we found ourselves walking on a path which winds its way between the A311 and an industrial estate). On Saturday a few of us went to a place called Pizzeria Organico or something, and celebrated Andy's Linton's birthday which, again, was pleasant - and proveded plenty of opportunity to confuse Alec by talking to Mexican Lorenna in Spanish while he sat between us perplexed and confused. Always fun! The most exciting news of the conversation was that Lorenna has heard of, and even seen, the legend from Puerto Rico that is Danilo Montero. Aware that'll make no sense to most of you, I move hastily on...

One thing that challenged me was what was said in the talk during the Good Friday service at St Pete's - that we don't make enough of Easter. Christmas is obviously a great event for Christians, and worth celebrating, but Easter - well that's in a whole other league. Unless what we celebrate at Easter is true, the whole Christian faith is an absolutely useless excercise in uselessness (like, oh I dunno, a solar powered deep sea sub or something - although I guess that is conceivable cos it would just charge up its battery when it is in the sun, but you know what I'm driving at). But since the Easter message is true - well, that changes everything. That sort of altered how I saw Easter this year, since, like most people, I'm usually in the habit of seeing Easter as just another opportunity for a bank holiday.

So that brings us up to today...

An encounter with Her Maj'

2006-04-13T13:53:00.000Z

The following post is true, but only just...
For the first and possibly last time in my life I found myself rushing because I was going to be late to see the Queen this morning. She was at Guildford cathedral handing out pennies to old people or whatever she does on Maunday Thursday, and since Guildford is a quick hop on the train I thought one way or another I'd go and see her. Amazingly, despite the fact that I told them about the fact that the Queen wears many different hats and also has some corgis, nobody seemed very interested in coming with me, so I tagged along with my Auntie Brenda and co. Speculation was rife that the Queen may have stayed at Aunty Brenda's house overnight last night, and comparisons have been made in the past between her, my mother and the Queen (I constantly expect a letter in the post confirming that I am the heir to the throne), so it seemed an obvious thing to do.
Anyway, I am delighted to report that the Queen seems well, although she clearly didn't recognise me, since she stayed a long way off when she left the Cathedral although she did wave at me from her car, which was a relief, since no-one likes to be disowned by one's long lost relatives.
Photos are attached, some of them are admittedly zoomed collosally. Not only are there pictures of the Queen but also some conspiring Beefeaters

Tuesday: a strangely active day...

2006-04-12T17:16:00.000Z

Yesterday was a strangely active day. In the morning I thought, rather randomly admittedly, that I'd take Alec up on his offer of a game of squash. Having never played before, and having really very little idea of the rules this was a slightly odd thing to do, I guess, particularly since I have done so little sport of late that, for the first time in my life, I don't even possess a pair of trainers (before you accuse me of being a lazy bum, however, I should point out that I have an occasional habit of swimming which, last year, briefly rose to the dizzy ranks of routine, and that I particularly enjoy going for walks in the great outdoors - and neither of these acitivies require trainers). However the trainer lackage did not perterb me (I played in a completely inappropriate pair of shoes) neither did the lack of a racket (to put you at your ease, I hired one, since using my hand would prove very painful). It was, in the event an excellent bit of excercise, and I have been inspired to perhaps have another go some time, since, considering it was my first go I don't think I lost all three games we played too badly...

In the evening a few of us went bowling at the highly expensive Farnborough Bowl (one of two 'things to do' in Farnborough, the other being to go to the Prince of Wales - incidentally someone, I think it was Fi (Jon's Prestonian fiance) asked us what the advantages to living in Farnborough were. I think we replied its main advantage is that it is close to other places like Basingstoke and Guildford and Reading and London, so when (sorry, if) you want to get out and go to a place where there are things to do its usually a relatively easy train ride away). Bowling was enjoyable though once again I was literally a bit of a loser, coming in at an impressive last place, despite my patented 'slam it down and hope for the best' technique. We then quite randomly went back to Alec's place and played Cluedo, a game I haven't played in years but, which, true to form, I lost every time, and made numerous silly mistakes. I hang my head in shame at the thought of it.

Other than all this I have been diving into my new found role as Law Costs Draftsman's Clerk with aplomb, the work is sporadic but well paid, and my Dad has even upgraded me to 'quite good' which is noteworthy praise.

That is basically all there is to say about the past few days other than that I now have one of my two new pairs of glasses. This is exciting only for myself, perhaps, but I thought it was worth sharing in case you don't recognise me next time you see me. +

Opticians and the forgotten election

2006-04-09T10:29:00.000Z

I had quite a lot of fun this morning helping at explorers, the sunday school at my home church. I did it more regularly before I disappeared for uni, and it turns out kids are a funny lot, but kids work is a good laugh.But I still got that look I often seem to get from seven year olds when I crack a joke, that sort of superior 'you-are-just-not-funny-get-a-life' look, which normally puts me back in my place, and makes me feel rather old.

The weekend has been fairly standard but quite relaxing, yesterday afternoon I helped Dad plant some potatos on his allotment. Allotments are great cos everybody is very friendly, and poke their heads over the fence to talk about vegetables.
I was quite looking forward to picking up my new pairs glasses yesterday, but sadly the opticians didn't ring. Hopefully, though, they will ring tommorrow. I flatter myself that they will make me look more thoughtful and intelligent; as I said to the woman in the opticians when I ordered them, it's good to have ones that make you look intelligent, because that compensates for the fact that I'm...well...I'm an english student.

It may have escaped your notice (in fact, it probably has) but today is the day of the Peruvian presedential election. This may sound insignificant to anybody who hasn't been there, but at the moment any election in south america is hugely important for world politics since South America is currently slowly, one country at a time, swinging towards the left and beginning to talk fighting talk, particularly towards America. Trouble is, however well intentioned, this often leads to ineffective governments who begin by fighting for the rights of the poor but end up landing them in even worse positions than those they started with. Because of all this, I was rather distressed to see nothing in the paper today nothing about the election, and only one article on the bbc website if you look really hard (apparently it is likely that there will be no out-right winner today, and therefore a second round of voting in May). What with all the (perfectly legitimate) concentration on Africa and Asia and the Middle East, people tend to forget that some of the worlds poorest people are in South America and that countries there suffer from huge divides in wealth. I could witter on about this for a long time, but I sadly I must go.
There's a lot more to South America than just good music.

Refreshingly, this post has nothing to do with bird flu.

2006-04-07T12:49:00.000Z

I still have no job. But take that as a sort of default position. However, I did earn a small sum doing a bit for my Dad the other day. The Major Plan of the week, i.e. to earn money is rapidly decreasing in likelihood, in proportion to the increase in likelihood that I will end up getting some sort of job next term...

On Wednesday Clare and me went to see Milestones, a big sort of 'living history' museum, to check it out for when she takes the little hoodlums she teaches to it on a school trip next term. As well as a truly scary lady on the reception desk who didn't see that the fact that I was clare's brother gave me clear entitlement to get in free as well as her (guess part of me sees where she was coming from) there were lots of old buildings, and life-size model people talking to one another about the Industrial revolution. Its the sort of place I would have loved when I was seven, though what it was doing in Basingstoke of all places, I have no idea.

Other than that it has been a fairly un-eventful week, much of which has been spent sitting in the garden reading C.S. Lewis' brilliant book Surprised by Joy, or writing a little script for a drama about palm sunday for the kid's group at church (it's called A Funny sort of King: two policemen sit in the Jerusalem Police station and natter about the day's events - something along the lines of: 'was it a big donkey he was riding?' 'No it was just a kid' 'what, you mean he was riding a baby goat?' and that kind of thing, but with a more serious message about what kind of a king Jesus was and is hiding -hopefully- not too far behind the scenes!)

I have no idea how I am going to fill up the other two weeks I have before I return to Exeter, but I am also fairly convinced that before I know it it will be this time next week, if you know what I mean.

Rat infested sheds and surprising new glasses

2006-04-04T15:49:00.000Z

The disturbing thing about blogging is when people like Tom can actually tell you better than you can remember yourself exactly what you have been doing and even what you will be doing in the near future. Actually, I suppose it could potentially prove quite useful...

A quick run down of recent events before I do a bit of (paid :-)) work for my Dad...

I can't remember too much happenign on Sunday other than that I once again cooked Sunday lunch and went for a fairly wet walk with my sister and her Andy.

This morning a load of us from St Peter's bundled down to a local infant school to do a bit of social action. For most this meant painting bits of the playground, that sort of thing. For myself, Alec and Andy, this meant clearing out a rat infested shed full of nursery toys. Nice. Anyway, it was good fun, and its exciting to see opportunities for getting involved in serving the community opening up at home for good old St Pete's. Long may it continue.

This afternoon I went with Madre not only to buy some brilliant new trousers (brilliant because this means I can now have the joy of wearing trousers without any holes in - and also because she cery kindly paid for them ;-)) but also to buy some new glasses. After a lot of deliberation with the very friendly woman at the opticians, we (I feel she would want me to acknowledge her part in the decision, particularly when she took so much time and trouble to tell me about the exploits of her children and so on) eventually chose two pairs, one of which I think may surprise people (hopefully pleasantly) when they see me wearing them, but I shall find out when I get them on Monday. Despite myself, I can't wait!

Archives and antelopes, but without the latter

2006-04-01T16:59:00.000Z

I guess it is slightly ironic (or not, you may wish to discuss if you're into that sort of thing) that when there's not much going on is when I post the most (good rhyme). But once again, here I am, about to share with you good people. Wonders will never cease (indeed, they may well only get more wonderful).

Today dad and I went on a sort of father-son jaunt (although as I admitted to him, a major perk of the expedition was the free transport and lunch I got) to the National Archives, where the nation's important documents from the last thousand years are kept. We went on a tour given by a woman who was an expert in Latin (though, despite this, she seemed like quite an interesting sort of person) along with various other people of different shapes, sizes and senses of humour. Mostly it was a good intro into how you use this big place (anybody can get a reader's ticket and then order any document there, and within 20 minutes they can be handling some very exciting documents indeed). It may sound dull but trust me, the collection has literally anything you're interested in, from technical drawings of inventions for the patent office, to government legsilation, to the confession of Guy Fawkes and some impressively detailed maps. It's also a useful tool if your researching into family history. I will be trying to work out cunning ways to use it for researching into my dissertation next year, I think. Ok, I know, I know I'm 20 and male, I ought not to be getting excited by this stuff, but hey, I like to think it's what makes me, me.

Incidentally we found a book in the bookshop which was something like the Oxford Dictionary of Surnames. Unsurprisingly, the name Shervington was not there, so we remain quite rare (though I still hold out hope that we are descended from some wild Welsh clan). In fact, the other day a guy named Shervington was responsible for dropping the baton in a men's relay race and thus mucking up Australia's chances of a Commonwealth title. So there's a claim to fame - I cannot help but be proud to be a Shervington...!

Since I hold out little hope for getting any sort of job, plans are already being drawn up for the coming week. They include trailing (sorry, I mean willingly accompanying) my Mum around Guildford farmer's market, buying a new pair of glasses (possibly too if the two for one offer is still on - one of which I would dearly like to be black, thick rimmed and as stereotypically english student as possible), perhaps buying some new trousers (that might not sound exciting, but when you have been walking around in the same pair as long as I have through sheer want of money, a mother's offer to purchase you a new pair is like manna from heaven) and probably going with my sister to scout out a museum in Basingstoke (of all places!) which she hopes to take the children in her class to next term (again, a free trip out, who am I to turn down an offer like that?!). Oh, and at some point Tim will have sent down to me the the second cd of The Importance of Being Ernest as recorded by us last term and which I desperately need to have a listen to before giving the script to production (hint, hint, Mr Grenham!)...

That's today's craic from your friendly local dave!

A message from your friendly, local Dave

2006-03-31T16:46:00.000Z

I wouldn't say yesterday's extremely energetic moment of high voltage athleticism (bit of digging then going for a run) was a mistake necessarily, after all I did a little bit more digging today. But I must admit I do ache in a heck of a lot of places today, including the old back. I wonder if any medicsout there (and I know there are several) can tell me whether its possible for your back to remember previous pains, only mine is definitely recalling some rather nasty moments in its existance from half a year ago. I entrust myself to your superior wisom, Doctors Tom, Jon, et al...perhaps I will make an enquiry to you at the pub tonight, you have been warned.

I am beginning to lose any hope of getting a job this holiday. I phoned again today, and there is still nothing. I will not going into my particular greivance with one of the agencies here, just in case one of their employees decides to do some research into that annoying guy who keeps ringing up and reads this. Not sure where my money is going to come from next term, but hey, God'll provide! :-)

Speaking of which, I spent quite a lot of this afternoon finishing reading an excellent biography of a guy called Noel Proctor, who was (possibly still is) a prison chaplain at places like Dartmoor and Strangeways. It is a quite awesome and honest story, and if anybody says God is irrelevant, not there, and can't change lives, they should go and find Noel and talk to him about some of the inmates he's encoutered over the years ( Or alternatively I'll lend you the book.)

From 'your friendly local Dave' (a new way of signing things off which I think is a good way of promoting a fresh, and approachable me, and which was inspired by a local butchers.)

Me and my lampa

2006-03-30T16:26:00.000Z

Today I was unusually energetic. This afternoon (after a morning of shopping) help dad begin digging up a new border in the garden, was excellently satisfying, and reminded me of Peru ('Me and my lampa!' - only a small proportion of my readership will get that, but anyway!), except that instead of sand it was soil. I also went for a run, which I completed succesfully without feeling too knackered. My sister was home when I got in from the garden and she asked, with a sort of challenging look on her face 'do you fancy going for a run?' so of course, being male, and she being my sister, I was left with no choice but to accept the challenge. I surprise myself sometimes., but I must have looked a ridiculous sight as I tried to look like I did this sort of thing everyday and fixed my eyes on a pavement ahead which I couldn't see, not having my glasses on and all.
My back is now greeting me in its traditionally painful way again, mind.

All too comfortable?

2006-03-29T11:50:00.000Z

Let's be honest, I've spent the last couple of days doing very little. But then, there is very little I can do. After the job people sounded so irritated last time when I rang up, and told me to wait for them to ring me, rather than badgering them, I am a bit reluctant to be so proactive as to call them every day. So I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

In the meantime, I have been doing some reading for next term, and a bit of random reading not for next term, occasionally popping into town, occasionally meeting up with various Farnborough folk and so on.

In a way, its quite nice to drift along aimlessly for a couple of days, in another way its actually a heck of a lot harder to use my time effectively at home than it is at uni, for some reason. I think Alec hit the nail on the head yesterday when he said, Farnborough is a very comfortable place. In some ways that's nice for a few weeks every so often. In other ways, I am growing more and more dissatisfied with comfort.

There's that excellent bit in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe when someone, I think its Susan but don't have the book to hand asks if Aslan is safe. The reply from the Beaver (is it Mr or Mrs, can't remember which) is 'Safe? Who said anything about safe? He's definitely not safe. But he is good.'
I'm not sure I want to be safe, because I want to live life to the full, and I don't think that that sort of thing comes necessarily from what our society calls a comfortable life. I guess I often fall short, but what I want to do is life the life of a child of the 'unsafe' (at least in a wordly sense), but totally good, God. The challenge, as always, is making those words count day to day, even at home in comfortable old Farnborough.

Poetry and duck updates

2006-03-27T08:52:00.000Z

You go beyond the walls,

the boundaries,

the limits.

You stretch beyond the borders -

uncontainable.

To shut you up, to leave you out

is like leaving a lion

in a cardboard box.

You can't be kept silent

and you won't follow -

head down,

tail between legs,

shy and defeated.

Instead you're flying,

running,

bounding,

laughing and dancing ahead.

I can't even keep you

pinned down in a poem.

D Shervington 2006

Wrote that one late last night, and, unusually, it seems to still work this morning.

Yesterday, as well as doing all the dutiful son things one has to do on mother's day, I went with the 'rents to see my sister's future house. It is very nice indeed...

It is possible when I ring up the folks at the temping place today they will some work for me. I live in hope.

Incidentally, I should give you some sort of duck update. At the moment, the ducks on www.liveducks.com are standing and gazing. A worthy activity for a duck to be undertaking, I would say.

Not a very interesting post this time, I'm afraid...

2006-03-24T19:56:00.000Z

Still no job, but I did ring them briefly today and [pleasingly both agencies bot only still exist but seem to remember me.

The ever-legendary Luke has introduced me to an excellent website, www.liveducks.com, which allows you to watch some ducks, live, 24 hours a day! Isn't that wonderful? I am prepared to accept that some might not think so, but I think there is something rather therapeutic about it. What disturbs me ever so slightly though is that the ducks do not appear to have moved for some minutes. Perhaps they are trying to tell me to do something more interesting with this part of my day than staring at poultry.

I have spent the day reading for next term, making a mothers day card (sssh don't tell Mum) - something of a feat for a guy as bad at art as me, and briefly popping to town (I often 'briefly pop to town' when I am in Farnborough. It's a pretty rubbish town centre, but its all we poor Farnbourarians have.)

It is alarming when you keep seeing people you remember as really young around town and noticing they have grown. Makes you feel old.

Going to watch a film at Dan's tonight. feel free to join if you know where to go/you know who Dan is/you like films.

I have very little left to say, but will let you know the minute anything interesting happens! At the moment, its just quite nice to be home. returning home is good once in a while. It requires a lot less thought than being at uni, much as I love being a student!

For whatever reason, I have used more than my average rate of exclamation marks in this post!

Slightly Welsh

2006-03-22T17:56:00.000Z

One interesting and very exciting thing my Dad told me last night was that his ancestors are Welsh. This is brilliant news, because although I love to mock the Irish/Scottish/Welsh, I have always had a secret desire to be celtic, and, in a way, I now am. I will take great pride in telling people that I am slightly Welsh. I may even celebrate St David's Day.

Today I went to London to meet Esteban, which was lovely, we ate sandwiches, drank coffee and popped into the Tate Modern to mock the art (I was so tempted to knock down the big pile of boxes in the main hall which claimed to be art - I think if you look at the picture, you'll see exactly what I mean). Since we were meeting at Picadilly Circus, as usual, I decided to make my way there from Waterloo on foot with no maps and no use of the tube. Amazingly I made it in about 20 minutes, so I guess I must know London better than I thought. I like to think of myslef as Londoner. Oh bother, I guess I'll have to be a Welsh Londoner.

No word from anyone wanting to offer me a job for easter yet.

There's a good picture here of Steve looking typically chilled as well as the one of boxes. This is included purely so you can put a name to the face. He's a bit Welsh, too, so I understand...

And now my father is arriving with his arms full of Chinese takeaway, so my work here is done...

The waiting game...

2006-03-21T16:58:00.000Z

Well, I am now home, and it is very tranquil and quiet and lovely. Things appear to have changed very little here.

This morning I walked down to town on a mission to get a holiday job. I popped in to two agencies both of whom seemed to suggest that there would eventually be a lot of work but not quite yet. I wait with baited breath (for a diagram of this, see Luke E) Anyway, I also popped into the Triangle (where I used to work in the golden years of yore), and all seems to be hunky doary, I even had a cup of tea with my old boss, which was excellent and, delightfully, it was also free. When I got home I sorted out my CV, and was delighted to discover that it seems to be reasonably respectable (although the employment history section is some what sparse..). I also filled in an application to work at the AQA offices (they always need students and, brilliantly, they are based down the road in guildford), mainly for the summer, but perhaps they might have something for this holiday too. I now play the waiting game, not a pleasant game when you are as poor as I am...

I have just been reading an excellent book called How to read the Bible for All its worth, and in particular a couple of chapters about the letters and how to read them contextually as well as with a view to applying them today. It was very interesting indeed.

The only other thing of significance today was that I got my eyes tested, and, as expected I can see considerably less than I could 2 years ago. this would explain a lot. It is alarming to think I am slowly turning into a mole. I shall have to improve my sense of smell. Incidentally the woman who checked my eyes is probably the same woman who does most of the listening tests I have ever done in my life. She had that incredibly eloquent, ut glass accent that these people tend to have...

On a visit from Miss Gibbs, and my imminent return to the South East

2006-03-19T15:28:00.000Z

It's been a while since I've posted anything, so I thought I'd give you a quick update. Hazel came down to visit myself and Rachel on Thursday so that was a bit of a chuckle, we undertook a rich and varied program of events, including a comprehensive though rather uninformed tour of Exeter, and an excellent trip to Exmouth yesterday afternoon (which seemed to feature rather than the average number of frightening looking dogs - distressing when both Hazel and myself find 'man's best friend' somewhat fiercesome). On Friday evening Hazel, James and I went to see The Pirates of Penzance. Rachel was in the orchestra and, as it turned out, one or two folk I recogisned were in the cast. It was a good production actually, although it was slightly more expensive than it need have been thanks to the fact that I was entrusted with buying the tickets.

I also have recurring memories of Hazel opening her organizer at various points during the few days, in order to sort out the exciting Scotland trip a few of us have planned for, wait for it, September. That is, by my maths, about six months time. When I was one, that was half my lifetime! I mean honestly, talk about forward planning!

So, I am heading for home tommorrow (or rather my wonderful Dad is coming to pick me up) and unfortunately leaving poor old Tim on his own for a couple of days, since James left for home today and then I hope to get some sort of temping job, probably packing boxes or something stimulating like that.

Right, gotta get back to packing!

City blighted by chronic bread shortage.

2006-03-15T11:29:00.000Z

For some inexplicable reason, there seems to be a severe lack of bread available in Exeter at the moment. Thus here is a picture of me holding what is probably one of the last loaves in Exeter after two days of trying to find some. It is expensive stuff too, but desperate times call for desperate measures (though I suppose properly desperate is when you make it for yourslef!).
On the subject of food, about 15 minutes ago I had a sudden and dramatic attack of hunger. I am trying to hold out till lunch, but I'm not sure if I'll last or not!

I should probably apologise for not posting for a few days. It was down to a combination of getting my essay finished, and then the blogger website collapsing. Sunday night was fairly legendary, I went with other folks (as I mentioned in my last post) to see what turned out to be half of the Lemon Jelly duo (Fred Deakin to be exact, but I guess that won't mean much to many people) and a guy called Tom Middleton. After a few warm up acts, they did two hours back to back, one track each, and it was awesome. There were a couple of Lemon Jelly tunes in there too. Most people seem to express surprise when I say I am quite into chilled dance stuff, particularly since I don't particular enjoy clubbing and, well, can't actually dance. But on Sunday I was loving it, I didn't stop moving for about two hours, and an official photographer guy even came up to us to take a photo of us since we apparently looked the part. Its quite probable though that he was just too polite to ask me to get out the way of the picture...my 'mole dance' is not especially photogenic, but is, in fact, a series of random hand movements - I get away with it because a) it is dark, b) a large number of people at these things are not really in a state of mind to notice, and c) those who, like me, are still completely sober and down to earth are normally people who know me, and therefore just think its part of the standard dave-eccentricity.

it's nearly the holidays, I have all but printed out my essays, and I'm looking forward to a couple of days of crashing after tommorrow's seminar; Hazel's coming down to see Rachel and me so we'll loaf about a bit for a few days. Should be a welcome break from manic uni-ness.

Duck Pizza, and other things on the fringes of human understanding...

2006-03-12T10:02:00.000Z

Last night was the ex-hall reps social jobby. We went to On The Waterfront which is, as its name suggests, on the waterfront. A hilarious and fun evening was had by all, and myself 'El Presidente' aka James H and Holly shared a magnificently large and unusual duck pizza. It was a very impressive construction indeed, I have to say. Conversation swung around a multitude of topics as it does at these sorts of things. These included one with Alex 'The BFT - Big Friendly Thug' about how parents always ask you about the weather when you phone them. Its so true, sorry 'rents!

Actually I've learnt a lot recently. On Friday at the crossline homeless drop-in evening I was talking two lovely old guys who were telling me lots of fascinating information about which mushrooms are good to eat and other dietry information. You'd be surprised at the wealth of wisdom available in an evening at crossline; I also learnt a great deal about pathology and the state of the NHS (too much, I am tempted to argue) from one guy who now has a bedsit and lots of ambition and a considerable amount about seventies music from another guy. Its all quite inspirational sometimes. And moving, too.

Yesterday I victoriously completed both essays. Well, that's not quite accurate, I finished the first draft, but I'll have to go through them both again this week to polish them up a bit, but at least there is a small light at the end of the tunnel. I hope to have them properly complete by the middle of the coming week. This afternoon, after church, I plan to read some of a book about three guys biking across South America, and then this afternoon I'm going with Andy Colquhoun (the man whose surname is impossible to spell but is pronounce Cahooon, Abe and Mark to see the ever-legendary Lemon Jelly which is exciting (and tickets were cheap).

Symmetrical trees and so on...

2006-03-09T17:05:00.000Z

Speculation over the past few days has included the question of whether it is true that trees are symmetrical so that underground their roots mirror their branches. I am sceptical about that one to be honest, but then I did have that debate with a psychology student so perhaps it was all part of some grand experiment. Another interesting but rather confusing conversation I had was about consumption, which it turns out is not pleasant but no longer kills you. That one was with Ian in my english class, and pretty much sums up the degree of randomness of our conversations.

Excitingly yesterday, I went to visit Jon Salter as a bit of an essay-break. He is very well, treated me to an extraordinary tropical squash drink (thanks Jon, you must tell me where you got it), and, as ever, took every opportunity to use complex medical terminology, just to confuse me. Perhaps I should have talked to him about Walt Whitman or something...

Yesterday night, Belmont house group was in a house miles away from anywhere on a random street. The street was very windy, and none of the houses had numbers on, so I wandered back and forth in the wildness for a while before I finally found the place. I like housegroup cos it happens in real houses, which makes a very refreshing change from the normal student housing situation. Funny how things like that are luxurious when you're a student.

Last night I dreamt I had a job, and was earning real life money. It was a very good dream.

Other than that much essay writing has taken place. I am about half way through both essays...

On writing essays in front of big-budget BBC documentarys.

2006-03-07T15:23:00.000Z

Weeks as busy at these are admittely few and far between, but that is why I like them. It's a little window into the world of anyone who isn't an english undergrad...

I have been feverishly getting down to a couple of big-ish essays, reading Huckleberry Finn (which we're studying next week and which takes me back to my lost - and possibly imagined - boyhood), and sorting out numerous other things. And the next few days aren't looking any less busy. I almost feel like I am actually doing a full time degree here!

Because most of what I have been doing has been fairly standard uni stuff, I have very little to say. Actually, perhaps I will mention Planet Earth which I saw on the quite brilliant replay thing we have on our digital telly. Getting a little tired of sitting at my desk and typing, I decided to move my laptop to the sofa yesterday and watch the first in this reputedly excellent series. Its reputation was quite justified, it is a brilliant series. The filming is spectacular, almost cinema like, and every so often I would look up from writing some wildly sweeping comment about American literature and go 'woaaah' as I saw another spectacular bit of scenery. Actually, if you have any essay writing to do, I can recommend doing it in front of this particular series, because there is something quite therapeutic about it, David Attenborough's voice is nice and soothing in the background. I was much more succesful writing my essay to Planet Earth than I was when I tried to write with Athlete blaring(or even whispering) out of my stereo, much as I love them.

I look forward to the next instalment, particularly since I suspect there'll be some good footage of the Andes since its going to be all about mountains.

By the way, my readership has become even more international recently. I have recieved hits from Germany and the Phillipines...and even Scotland (Hi, Gladys!).

the coming Spring

2006-03-05T16:58:00.000Z

I've been waiting for a while to write this one, and at last today I had more than a few minutes to get it down on paper. It's not structured in quite the same way as it is on www.sherv.deviantart.com,

the coming Spring

The world lies locked up,

Chained in ice.

Barred behind frozen walls.

Days shrouded in cloud,

And fierce, bitter, winds.

Nothing dares move,

Or breathe,

Or sing.

But now, it’s coming.

The warm breeze says so,

The new song of the birds says so,

The drip, drip, drip of the melting ice says so.

The sun advancing

house by house

up the street

says so.

I stand here,

ready to Be freed,

by the coming Spring.

A walk on snow-bound Dartmoor

2006-03-04T17:53:00.000Z

Our walk on Dartmoor today was considerably more snowy than I had anticipated. At points, the snow was literally waist deep, so the going was pretty hard, but it was good fun. There are some photos here, but there I've put a couple on this site, just to whet your appetite...

The shortest post for a long time

2006-03-03T17:37:00.000Z

I will probably have something interesting to say tommorrow, we are going on another Dartmoor walk, but for now all I can really say is that I have spent much of this week planning and researching for my essays. That is all.

You, dear reader, fascinate me...

2006-02-28T11:31:00.000Z

Spurred on by the recent news that someone read and, whats more, claimed to enjoy my blog, I am adding another entry, whilst almost entirely unsure of what to write.
I have been set to mammoth 3000 word essays due in in a couple of weeks, but what most seems to confuse people, LHD particularly, is that I am actually looking forward to the prospect. To be fair, the writing bit will be fairly dull, but the research might be quite entertaining, since it will take me to the very bowels of the Old Library to find some very old books. I can hear the groans already coming down my internet cable from you, dear reader...

In fact, yesterday I found I had so much to do I was actually able to write a list of things that need to be accomplished this week. That is unusual and sort of satisfying. Admittedly, one of those things was 'pop to town', but even so, most of them are things which need to be done for some reason or other. I am not used to the sensation of being busy, and I quite like it.

Actually, I just popped into the site which gives me some idea of where my 'hits' (its a brutal world, technology, I've always said it) are coming from, and I would be delighted to find out who my regular reader in Williamsburg, Virginia, USA is...feel free to say hi at any stage and tell me something interesting about yourself. Indeed,in the last week two Italians and a Swede have visited. You are all most welcome, please give me lots of feedback because (I've always wanted to say this) I want to know how I can best appeal to my international readership.

This blogging malarky really is a fascinating thing...

Friday's chair, and the Panamerican Highway

2006-02-26T09:53:00.000Z

On Friday I studied a bit, coughed a lot, studied a bit more, shivered (despite the fact that the house was probably more hot than it has ever been since the central heating was on full blast) , and generally felt rather ill. All the while I was sat, almost exclusively, in one seat. It was a unique sort of day.
Considering I now feel absoloutely fine, just a little sniffly, it clearly wasn't an especially dramatic ailment, but it was enough to make me lose all motivation to leave the house until yesterday afternoon, when I cautiously left the house and went for a breath of fresh air. For me, that's a big deal, since I think fresh air is brilliant.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon I made chocolate brownies again, an excercise which whilst not a complete disaster did not go rigidly to plan, but there we are. In the evening Tim and James were out at an Xpression FM birthday meal, so Lucy and LHD came round and Lucy cooked curry for us, which was very nice indeed. We then played Monopoly (which, amazingly, I won) and watched The Motorcycle Diaries which is a brilliant film.
And it fuelled my idea.

The panamerican highway largely exists only on a theoretical level. It goes from Alaska down to Chile although in fact there is no such single root. There is also a rather difficult bit near panama where there is no road and it is just jungle. But beyond that, into South America it seems to be pretty much a continous root through countries like Columbia, Peru and Ecuador. At some point in my life, I am going, with other people, to do the South Panamerican highway. We will either have an old cheap bus of some kind or go by public transport (but local buses only, no tourist buses allowed). After LHD and Lucy had left and I still had South America very much on the brain, I went to Wikipedia, where there is an entry on the route, here it is.
Ok, so its not a plan I can carry out tommorrow exactly, but the dream is there...

A walk through my day...

2006-02-23T17:52:00.000Z

Please note: not all of the following is true.

I wake up at about 7.30, realising that this is far to early, and try to get back to sleep. Eventually I manage a few minutes sleep until 8, when I give up and read my book.
At about 8.30, i get up, have some cereal (Dave's combo speciale is today's choice) I realise that somehow we don't have any bread even though we went to the co-op after the pub last night expressly to get some. I try and convince myself to go without. I eventually give in and go out to the Spar to get some. A large purple dinosaur serves me.

On returning to the house, I notice the postman has come. At first glance I think there is nothing for me. Then I see the very large box of chocolates which despite being several feet high has somehow fitted through the letter box. I smile to myself, and, after dragging the box to my room, check to see who they are from. There is no clue given.

After writing and checking various emails, I head off to campus for a study group. It is an engaging study group, made slightly more engaging after a coffee. Half way through I make my excuses and go and have a glass of wine with the vice chancellor. I point out that there are certain respects in which he might be called Machiavellian (as one of my tutors has said), and he promises to change his ways. I then return to the PCC for a seminar, which, impossibly, reignites my faith in Shakespeare's sonnets. I leave fairly happy. As I leave, I pass Gentleman George. We have a short conversation, during which he points out that it is snowing. He is correct. In fact, several feet of snow have settled already and the university snowploughs have had to be called in order to allow business to continue as normal. A small fleet of Chinook helicopters is hovering overhead in case of emergency.

I leave the PCC and step into the Baltic cold of campus. I then make my way back home. Upon my arrival, Lucy and James are in the living room. James is doing his legendary Elvis impersonation. We head off to Martin's Pie Shop. I purchase a chicken and ham pie, a slice of 'Easter Tiffin' and a plate of caviar. We return to the house and eat our food. Neighbours is on. It is riveting, and intellectually stimulating stuff today.

I head off for the bank. It is still snowing hard. Town is full of bored teenagers reaching the end of half term. Most of them are filling their time admirably, by reading Dickens novels.
I enter the bank. It is delightful to see that everyone has such common sense, and that nobody is queueing up to use the outside cash machines, since after all, as everyone knows there are plenty inside the bank too. I pay in a cheque for a sum considerably over £10.50. I do not leave my gloves there. I do not pass go. I do collect £200.

I go to the library. I pass a man with an exceptional beard. He lets me stroke it.

I head back home. On the way I pop into Co-op to get some teabags. I specd a large amount of time looking for tea bags. It is not the appalling layout of the store. It is my own stupidity.

I return home. I spend the rest of the afternoon reading The Fairie Queene for next week.

I am later on going for an early evening drink with James. When I get home, all the reading I have to do will have been done for me.

It is unlikely the snow will melt for some years.

Ay, ay, ay!

2006-02-21T17:14:00.000Z

I have been working fairly solidly today, which is satisfying. I also had a tuna mayonaise sandwich for lunch, which must surely count as satisfying too.

Actually, I lie about working solidly. There was about fifteen minutes when my computer decided to play Danilo Montero, a Latin American worship leader, and also Alborada, a hugely 'gringo-ised' 'traditional Inca' band, both of which brought back very fond memories of my Peruvian summer, and caused me to spend some time gazing at the sky out my window before I realised I was doing very little of use, and sort of woke up. If you've ever been somewhere which has really marked you, you'll know that afterwards you find yourself with the complete certainty that you will do everything you can to go there again some time, whether for a short time or for longer. I'm not sure I know anyone who has been to South America who doesn't think that. Unfortunately, it all costs money and time and so on, but it is something of a compulsion.

It's a curious thing that I am madly in love with travelling to places, even if they are in Britain, but a few years ago I would have said the complete opposite. Maybe that's what going to uni does to you. I love Exeter because there's always a random bit of it still to discover...

Anyway, enough analysing, I must get on with making dinner. I'll just leave you with an urge to log on to www.xpressionfm.com tomorrow and click on the webcast between 2 and 4 to hear me being Tim's minion on his show. I guarantee you much hilarity (and me much embarresment) as I try and work out what song is being played.

The picture, of sunset of Florencia de Mora, was not taken by me, but I am sure whoever took it (possibly Steve) won't mind me using it

A Song of Astonishment

2006-02-19T16:05:00.000Z

I stood, transfixed, today.

A single drop of rain sat quivering on a branch

I touched it, and it fell.

I stood, transfixed, today.

Glistening ice shimmered with light I couldn’t see

On the roof of a car.

I stood, transfixed, today.

The dying sun threw golden light up, up

To the chimney tops.

I stood, transfixed, today.

I saw a hundred people pass me by like grains of sand

None were the same.

I stood, transfixed, today.

I found out something more about who He is -

Unchanging but always new.

I stood, transfixed, today

And so I knew I had to tell you what I found

So maybe you’d look tomorrow.

D Shervington 2006