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Little pleasures
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A chance to exchange notes on the little everyday things that cheer you up when you're down, or make an ordinary day into a better one. Winning move unaltered.
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Sitting in a 6th floor office in Rotterdam with a window that faces west over the city towards the Port of Rotterdam and watching the storms coming in from the North Sea only 20 miles away, swallowing the city's skyscrapers as it approaches.
The Alps in summer. The really green bits. With the cowbells. And the wildflowers. Don't care if it is like the Sound of Music.
Serving dinner to hungry teenage boys.
Being able to do simple diy stuff, like today, clearing an airlock in the hot water system; repairing a useful bag with a staple gun; making a jig to remove downlighters without damaging the ceiling.
What!?!?!? No! That cannot go unanswered!

Ripping the living bejaysus out of any recalcitrant home fixture with my mighty Tiger Saw prior to replacing it with one that works.

Curses! I never thought of using my angle grinder on that bag...
Life has become a lot simpler since I realized that 90% of the time, preserving the parts that you are replacing is a waste of time. New faucet required? No more struggling with claw wrenches in hard-to-reach places to remove water supply risers. Now I loosen the retaining nuts enough to lift the faucet up from the sink and Mister Tiger Saw has me doing the installation part in minutes. Light fixtures I fitted ten years ago won't take the new lightbulb de jour anyway so I just bin 'em and start over.
Thought of you the other day, gil, when Mrs Stevie arranged for me to go Karting.

In a Lamborghini Gallardo.

I am jealous. I hope a detailed account will appear in the Occasional Stevie.

It's a couple of years since I karted, due to various injuries and to other members of the Fugitives team moving to different pastures, but I haven't yet given up. I believe that the karting experience, at its best, is the ideal training ground for f1 drivers, as well as being a lorra fun for novices and experienced drivers alike.

Well, they marked out a track that prevented anyone from getting into third gear but it was still more fun than a poke in the eye. I was completely overwhelmed by the experience and forgot to be cool for the camera. Here's a link to the video library of the event and I was number L75 - right at the top of the page.
I finally watched your video, and admired the progress from uncertainty to confidence to pushing the limits. Occasional squeaks of wheelspin, and the casual enquiry "Anyone ever spin out?", followed by serious attempts to do so.
It was a lorra-lorra fun. I recommend it to all.
A 60 Mb fibre connection. Click — web page appears! Click — video plays! 100MB uploads to Dropbox in seconds!
[Raak] Grrrrrrr! Still, I get fresh air and no traffic instead.
[Phil] I have those as well. :)
[Raak] Hmmm, I have no chance of anything over 3Mb for the next decade as far as I can tell. Unless I move house.
The sound of a Mellotron's "orchestral strings" voice. Sounds nothing like strings but is entirely wonderful when done right.
I think it was actually called "Three Strings", but I never had the knobs under the Steviemitts so I can't say for sure.
Training interested student(s)
Chunky knit leggings.
Hidden textDear god, I have a picture wedged firmly in my brain now that will not come out no matter what I do.
Flicking a dead Christmas tree light and being rewarded by having the whole string burst into glorious life.
Brandy butter
Bing Crosby's singing voice
Hess Trucks.
Correcting somebody who just said "pedanticism"
[Moom] But that just makes one sound like a pedanticismist, doesn't it?
Awakening in the dawn's coming light to the sound of Kookaburras, Noisy Miners, Butcher Birds, Wrens and their avian friends having a chat about their breakfast menu.
The relief experienced on finding a legitimate receipt for the dodgy-looking transaction on one's bank statement after a brief panic. [Stevie] And proud of it.
Delighting in one's own inherent immunity to British humor.
Getting connected to someone who actually cares when calling a "tech support" line. Thank you, nice AT&T lady.
Being able to get through the head and the middle 8 of "Misty" without screwing any of the chords.
Being able to watch the superstructure of a massive crane on a massive ship serenely sailing up the river from my office window. No point in trying to drive home right now - it's not home time for one reason, and all the bridges will be up for another.
Sharpening pencils
Waking in the middle of the night to the sound of rain falling outside, and going back to sleep again. Of course, there was that time I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain falling inside ...
A shepherd's hut in a sheep field in Norfolk. (Much, much better than it sounds)
The space where a piece of furniture has been removed.
Charlotte Green reading the football results. A touch of class to counter all the snarly herberts on Five Live. (Pablo) I think I prefer a bed.
Les Dawson reading football results
Being greeted as "Mr Hughes" by the local Indian newsagent. Must be an age thing.
Guiding an off-spin delivery to the square leg boundary with consummate ease - best shot I've played all season (and last season for that matter)
Seeing the full moon. It's brilliant.
Sitting on the deck of our new house on the first warm evening of the year on the new garden chairs waiting for the fat (but waning) moon to appear over the trees
Seeing the ISS overhead.
Puppy cuddles!
Lunting my way through Cherry Tree Wood on a fine morning "To lunt" = to walk while smoking a pipe. A long obsolete verb, but I'm determined to bring it back to usage, even if pipe smokers are now rarer than a moment of fun at a Barry Manilow concert.
[Rosie]: It has a bed, a very very nice one :-)
A 6 over long-off from the final ball of the innings - which demoted the square-leg glance to the 2nd best shot I've played all season. Happy days!
Bouncing maniacally through grass as tall as you are, with one's tongue lolling, one's tail swishing furiously, and one's ears flapping about one's head. I hope it's clear I'm posting this on behalf of someone else without internet access.
[Simons Mith] I doubt anyone else's elephant has internet access either, so yours shouldn't feel short-changed.

Driving at night on a wide road with cat's-eyes but no street lights.

Early evening walks after hot days, through hamlets where they're growing lots of jasmine.
Finding out that a person that you want to audition for your play is going to audition.
Seeing the kids from the social housing up the road showing total unawareness of racial differences.
Having the tax man pay for one's new bathroom and a holiday in the Greek Islands. Well, not literally, but that's about what the unsolicited tax refund I just received amounts to.
Discovering the existence of The Society of Strange and Ancient Instruments.
Debugging to the complete collection of A & B sides of every e.p. and 45 put out by Mungo Jerry. Alrightalrightalright.
(Only recently discovered) Standing stark naked in a field at 2am, having a much-needed pee in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. (Elemental, my dear Watson)
Living in the house where you don't resent housework.
Having next door's cat (called Yoda) come in and plonk itself down in the kitchen as I make breakfast. I mustn't feed it; it's not mine, more's the pity.
Coming home to the new house that's got better views than some of the places we stayed on holiday. The seasonally changing landscape of fields and trees, four new wind turbines in the past two weeks, but no sea view.
Going for a seven mile sprint on the bike on a sunny September evening, just because.
Hearing the Great African Belly-laugh.
The Red Arrows performing nearby.
Looking at things through binoculars.
The earthy smell and steaming stacks of the sugar factory 3km from the back of our house (and part of our view), which has started up again with the start of the local sugar beet harvest. It'll run until April.
I daren't mention Wales beating England at rugby, as I know it's not an everyday thing, even though it is rather satisfyingly frequent.
That first glass of red wine after a long, crap-awful day
Long phone call last night which means that friend I've had since I was 11 and her family are coming to the Netherlands spend New Year with us.
Muscovado sugar. Very naughty stuff. Too bad.
Harassing marine invertebrates in saltwater tidepools.
Watching puppies sleep/lie down peacefully.
Finding my "other" glasses.
A smile from my grandson
[Phil] Is that first one? Discovering I can write on my new tablet using my fat finger, even the HTML.
[pen] Yes, and what a smashing one he is too.
[Phil] Noo, I mean the first smile!
[pen] Ah, no it's not. They're much more regular now though :)
Dog hiccups!
YouTube Fail Videos, especially the ones in which a dog gets the short end of whatever. Cats pushing dogs downstairs, dogs running full-tilt into glass storm doors, dogs being sucked into black holes. That sort of thing.
Every time I hear the phrase "There's more than one way to skin a cat. It reminds me of the good times.
[Stevie] Dogs in boots!
The smell of tattooed tree corpses.
(Stevie) Try chimps, gorillas etc and mirrors.
A seafood platter on a Spanish beach front. (Why does eating seafood in Spain feel better than anywhere else?)
Watching Maggie Smith on Downton Abbey. Wait, what? Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
It's Easter!!!
Space 1889 and Delta Green. Reality. Who needs it?
Sitting in a ball chair. I found one in a flea market, of all places. I've wanted one ever since seeing No.2's chair in "The Prisoner" and discovering it was a real thing, and I was very tempted, but it wouldn't really fit in my house anywhere.
[Raak] Change your house! (I mean rearrange/reorganise the furniture) It can always be changed back if you change your mind. Things can always be bought and sold.
[pen] I also discovered that you cannot read in a ball chair, unless I installed some sort of interior light. Can't really listen to music either without a set of speakers in there as well. But for shutting out the world and relaxing, there's nothing like it.
Sitting in my very own ball chair. As far as I can tell from pictures on the web, this is the exact Eero Aarnio design. I might velcro a battery-powered reading light to the roof.

"I am Number 2."
    "Who is Number 1?"
"You are Number 6."
    "I am not a number, I am a free man!"
**mocking laughter**

I do not have sufficient security clearnce to view that image.
[SM] Only Number 1 may see that image.
Ah, some setting on my web server that doesn't like people linking to my pictures. It might work if you open it in a separate window.
Putting in a bunch of minimum bids on fancy stuff on eBay thinking 'that'll never work' and winning all of them. I needed another four pairs of shoes.
Village shops that not only have the cake-shaped Tupperware box that you need this afternoon in stock, but also gift-wrap the tea towels you bought for your sisters.
[Raak] Now all you need is a dial-under-the-base telephone, an Astro-lamp aka Lavalamp, a golfing umbrella, a weather balloon and some fishing line to tie it to your ankle and you are done (I assume you already have a suitable blazer). If I were any more envious of you I'd turn into a seethe. Will you be constructing a pit c/w hydraulic lift so you can rise from the mysterious Stygian depths seated in your magnificent chaise-ballon when greeting "guests"?
Doing the washing up [that bit's not my favorite part] while singing Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny Aff the Bus and If It Wisnae Fur Yer Wellies to myself
Adding amusement to cutting the lawn by mowing geometric shapes - before cutting them too.
Lifting lumps of iron up and down.
[Bismarck] I am planning to mow a fan pattern from one corner of my lawn. I may try to post a picture if it works. This may happen tomorrow, but is more likely to wait a week, as I have quite a tight schedule tomorrow, and the extra faffing about won't make me popular at home.
[Raak] So you work a magnet crane in a scrapyard now? Cool! Third best real person job in the universe. My research shows the following, as judged by reported job satisfaction and the number of people saying "I always wished I could do that" when the subject of what one does for a living comes up in conversation at a party:

Bestest Real Person Jobs In Universe:
  1. Fire Engine Driver
  2. Train Driver
  3. Crane Operator


Worstest Real Person Jobs in Universe:
  1. Old Guy in Computer Support Department
  2. Lecturer in Hard Sums at University
  3. Gong Farmer
I'm obviously discounting jobs like Astronaut and Billionaire from the list on account of real people don't get to do those.
The smell of old books in a real bookshop. Just makes me happy.
M&S British Pudding Chocolates. Rhubarb Crumble, Banoffee, Bakewell Tart... Intense.
Family visits American niece and boyfriend here for three days. Arrived by overnight ferry to Rotterdam from England this morning, we immediately packed them off to Amsterdam on the train, and looking forward to hearing what they made of it over dinner tonight. I'm cooking roast beef and Yorkshire puddings (by special request) obvs.
Being able to see everything with a new and very expensive pair of glasses with progressive lenses. Rimless, titanium arms, definitely not bifocals.
Discovering more things I can do with my new spectacles without having to constantly wear a second pair on top of my head and keep switching them over, such as seeing all the icons on the SatNav screen at the same time as driving; being able to use the PIN machine at a petrol station without digging around in my handbag for the second pair first; cooking; making use of all the settings on my camera instead of relying on 'P'; shopping and being able to read the labels. More updates to follow.
(pen) Yes, they're - good, varifocals. I've got them but I still need another pair for music because you need to look through the lower part which means the trombone would be pointing up to the sky. When your focusing mechanism really seizes up as it does to everyone over about 55 you'll have to be quite careful about getting the right prescription. Won't cost any more, though.
Bloody useless things. Everything you need to read in the real world turns out to be at "eye level" which means to read whatever it is I either have to tilt my head so far back the wind makes my nostrils resonate or I have to stand so far back that people wander between me and whatever it is.
Also only the middle of the lens is properly ground. So what prescription is the rest of the lens made to? The wrong one.
Progressive lenses are the biggest incentive to go Lasic I can think of.
I persist with two pairs, although I might go progressive some day, and keep my old non-reading glasses for playing cricket, which I imagine would be disastrous in multi-prescription glasses.
Yes, I'm finding the limitations of these progressive lenses already. For being outside taking photos or on my bike, I need a thinner sliver of reading prescription at the bottom, and a deeper stretch of landscape-viewing prescription. And the sides are weird. I can set up lapping waves along the dining table by sitting in the middle spot and tipping my head back and forth. If testing myself for mal de mer was ever something I needed to do, I have the right glasses with which to do it.
But they are perfect for supermarkets.
Sitting in an empty church and listening to the silence.
[Raak] Amen.
Sending messages from the smartphone by selecting the first word proposed. Needs to be seeded with a couple of words and often ends up in an infinite loop, but there is a certain disquieting quality in it.
[Raak] Or Sitting on a lonely hill and listening to the noise. Both are equally soothing, IMHO.
(Raak + Phil) x 10 = sitting on a very high mountain and listening to both. I highly recommend Switzerland for the purpose.
(Phil) Reigate Hill is not that lonely but the racket from the M25 should make up for it.
nOT neeD1n6 reading gla55eS aTT all.
[Rosie] I was thinking of Lowbury Hill, on the Berkshire/Oxfordshire border, where most of the noise comes from skylarks.
[PPRR] I did it on our back deck this afternoon. Tractors and buzzards. Peeeuw peeeuw.
(pen) There's no answer to that. Were the buzzards all called Leighton?
(pen) I misread your post, substituting the first person plural for the first person singular. It's Phil's fault - you know what he's like.
[Rosie] Typical. And in answer to your question, I doubt it. They're Dutch ones.
[Rosie] I would try to deny it, but nobody would believe me.
Lebkuchen Yes, it's getting near Xmas and the moreish little buggers are in the shops already....
Taking part in huge games of Werewolf. The card game, not the idiotic LARP.
Each of the first few sort-of-words uttered by one's grandchild. He said "ready" yesterday, when we were playing the "ready, steady, sit down" game I invented.
Hidden textAnd yes, I have surreptitiously trained my grandson to sit on command :)
(Phil, via revelation) Command. Is that a family word for the potty? Best of luck, mate.
Running for a train, and catching it. I am so glad to be getting home around 1am rather than 2am.
Tangentially: Being better at running 5km than I expected. I'm aiming for 26 minutes on Saturday morning, and 25 mins by February.
Staying on a sporty theme : shooting 4 handicap points better at archery simply by holding the bow a tad differently. Nifty.
Padding across a cold marble floor in thick fluffy slippers. Ok, my bathroom floor isn't actually marble, the tiles just look like it.
Padding across a marble floor with underfloor heating in bare feet. Ok, ours are porcelain tiles, not marble either.
Eeeeee you two are lucky to 'ave floor! We only have sandpit filled wi' bits of broken glass.
Diff'rent strokes, as they say. I hate hot floors. My fave is walking across a cold stone floor on a hot day... ahhhhh. My feet are definitely heat sinks.
Dressing up like my character in the Deadlands:Reloaded weird west game I'm involved in. The GM turned up in cowboy drag too yesterday. I am an inspiration to the younger generation.
I should hasten to add I only do this on those days we actually play the game, and I confine my wild west RPG cosplay to those regions that can be seen when I sit at the table. The lower Steviebod is clad in my usual pink tutu, black vinyl hotpants and rubber waders.
The fact that there's a word for 'blep'. An assortment of bleps.
The prosect of once more having muddy boots when I work on enhancing my expertise of fruit tree pruning and Dutch fruit tree vocabulary, next Saturday morning, and the next four Saturday mornings after that.
[pen] Were it not that you liked it, one might assume that you would claim "Penelope's exemption," whereby expat Penelopes may claim they work and enjoy the rewards, but actually do nowt. Mme Fillon being the current example.
[Bismarck] If you knew me, you'd know how untrue that was. I have a full-time university job, plus volunteering for the Netherlands' natural and historical heritage. We penelopes despise Mme Fillon and her pretence of working that brings the penelopes of this world into disrepute. (And I can actually write articles that get printed, unlike her)
A snowy landscape outside the living room windows, and a whole Sunday of baking and cooking - the in-laws and nieces are coming this afternoon. Carrot cake, cherry tarts, a big shepherd's pie, and baked stuffed apples.
Listening to my recently acquired "best of The Mutton Birds" CD. Jeepers, I wish I'd found these buggers years ago. Poppy tunes that cradle some of the best song-stories I've ever heard. I have no idea what "White Valiant" is about but it scares the living snot out of me every time I hear it.
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