Chicken-go-Round....

Wednesday, 7.30pm

Thought for the Day - There's never anything good on TV, except on the night when your two favourite programmes clash

Pug Status - A little cross-patch all day, telling off those naughty Council workers outside the front window

A new electrical gadget has made its way into the kitchen, and bets are already on as to how infrequently it will be used and how soon it will be gathering dust at the back of the kitchen cupboard. My wife was lucky enough to be given a counter-top rotisserie oven in pristine condition, just big enough to fit a plump whole chicken (or perhaps an emaciated wart-hog)....

Just like the smoothie maker and sandwich toaster before it, there was an initial burst of excitement as we all crowded round to see how it worked - peering through the glass front like a gang of poor urchins outside a toy-shop, we stared in wonder as our garlic-infused chicken slowly revolved on the turntable. It took exactly 17 seconds for boredom to set in. At that point our youngest came in to ask what we were having for dinner. "Rotisserie chicken" I said, "but - only if there is enough to go round!!!" (Humour is wasted on the young....)

So, after a sumptuous meal of disorientated bird, it was time to sit down and relax with a fresh newspaper, a spot of TV and a lap full of pug. Lots of coverage in this week's Welwyn Times about the 70th anniversary of the outbreak of World War Two. My Grandad always kept his regulation gas-mask and it certainly has come in useful over the years. They should be standard issue for pug owners. Never ever feed them ox liver. If you thought 'Purple Haze' was just a Jimi Hendrix record then you can think again....

Must go now - have to put the rubbish out. And, yes, it IS the right day today....

But he normally go out on Tuesday don't they.....?

Tuesday, 10.30pm

Thought for the Day - Items placed towards the top of a chest freezer will always disappear to the bottom the moment you need them

Pug Status - Finally not moulting - hurrah!

The aftermath of a Bank Holiday does strange things to the human psyche, none more so than "The Dance of the Bins". Grown men up and down the country literally got to pieces trying to remember what night they need to put the rubbish out - with the aftermath of Easter weekend turning the entire country into some sort of recycling box hokey-cokey....

You can spot people in cul-de-sacs peering out behind living-room net curtains, trying to see if that is a black sack by No.4's Mondeo. It only takes one person to crack, and within ten minutes the verges are awash with black sacks. Which are all still there the next morning because Roger next-door thought it was Wednesday....

It always seems strange that the only times I get this wrong are either when we have twice as many bags as normal, or I have a normal amount but they are twice as heavy. And I always look up and down the street after dropping the last bag and think "Hah! I'm the ONLY one who remembered!"....

I read a news feature today condoning the number of CCTV cameras nationwide. To be honest, it's doesn't personally concern me. Anyone who owns pugs will come under muh greater personal scrutiny and intimidation at any time - especially when you happen to be holding a sandwich.....

Lazing on a Monday afternoon...

Monday, 9.30pm

Thought for the Day - Sausages cooked on a barbeque will go from frozen solid to charcoal in the time it takes you to get a beer from the fridge

Pug Status - Chewing next door's frisbee that came over the garden fence

Ah, Bank Holiday weekends. The sound of lawnmowers, the smell of barbeques, the sound of screams as grown men herniate discs carrying supermarket special packs of lager to the car. And everyone always tells you "the next Bank Holiday's not until Christmas, you know!"

A quick trip to the Galleria this afternoon turned into a full-scale operation because, as usual, I didn't have enough change for the car park. We can put a man on the moon, send information at the speed of light around the globe, but we have yet to invent a car park ticket machine that is able to give change on a Bank Holiday. So, after finding a space in the Galleria car park seemingly on the outskirts of Hertford I then had to bob in and out of queuing traffic, with all the grace of an orang utan with a bad case of piles, to buy something from a newsagent just so I could get another pound for the machine....

Sunday morning saw me driving to Norfolk to pick up a sheep. This wasn't some sort of test of strength or bizarre cab fare but a chance to re-stock our freezer with some organic produce, lovingly reared by friends of ours. They has a smallholding but it's not what you've got but what you do with it, I always say. Luckily the meat came all ready cut into joints and chops - otherwise it would have had to have driven home with a whole frozen lamb sat on the passenger seat next to me. And goodness knows how I would have explained that one away to the police if I had been stopped....

Obi Pig Kenobi was very pleased to see me when I came home, lugging a huge sack of frozen lamb across my back. I must have looked like a doggy version of Father Christmas....

Wednesday, 8pm

Thought for the Day - The one thing that you forget to take out of the car will be the first thing you need when you step through the front door

Pug Status - Eyeing up the left-over bits of garlic bread

Someone said it was very Autumnal today - I thought that was the name of the faun in 'The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe'. And, given the state of my clothes cupboard, I think mine also gives me a gateway to another world- the 1970s, judging by the look of some of these trousers....

Back to the weather and poor Princess Pug bore her daily walk with true English stoicism, although the way her ears drooped until her face was virtually oblong gave away her inner feelings. And as for the grumbling noise she was making, well, if dogs could swear I daresay she could have written her own dictionary - and judging by the shocked expression of the Pekingese we passed on the way back, I think she probably did anyway....

Wednesday night, in our household, is Spaghetti Bolognese night and tonight was no exception. So, just before sitting down to eat, I went upstairs to change into my oldest, grubbiest t-shirt. The purpose of this being, of course, that should you eat spag bol wearing anything that you would quite like to wear again, you will manage to get more sauce down your front than down your gullet. I have a Ben Sherman shirt upstairs that I could only wear now if I wanted to go to a fancy dress party as a ratatouille....

The same principle applies to shaving. Never ever try to do this on the morning of a special occasion. I made the mistake of doing this once. Needless to say, I was the only graduate in my year to have a commemorative photo that looks as if I tried to limbo-dance under barbed wire....

I blame Las Ketchup....

Tuesday, 8pm

Thought for the Day - Never tell anyone to watch where they're treading - they will always instantly stand on what you wanted them to avoid

Pug Status - Snoring peacefully through Holby City

Bring in the washing, shut all the windows and cancel the application for the evening class in Advanced Precipitation Manipulation - the rain finally came. At exactly the same time that I remembered I had left my trainers in the garden....

Obi Pug Kenobi detests the rain, leaving it to the very last minute to answer any call of nature and doing so with one leg off the ground to minimise paw contact on wet grass. So I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up after muddy paws and also trying to find an online supplier of pug-sized galoshes....

Just finished clearing up after dinner, not my favourite task in the world. No time-saving appliance saves less time than a dishwasher, especially if it's the one that I am using. More temperamental than a Hollywood star at a badly-attended premiere, it refuses to work if I put the dinner plates in there. Or if any dish or saucepan is incorrectly aligned by less than a millimetre. And, regardless of how carefully I load it, I always, always have one dish or pan that won't fit in....

So I have to wash up anyway. Which kind of defeats the point of having a dishwasher. And because the pans are quite dirty I make sure I run plenty of hot water. Which I forget is really hot about half a second after I put my hands in the bowl. (Only girls wear rubber gloves to wash up. And possibly also Customs officers). So there's a slight delay between me thinking "Oops, I shouldn't have done that really" and me screaming like a Samurai warrior who has just been smacked in the family jewels by the corner of a Steinway piano....

Mad Dogs and Englishmen....

Monday, 9.30pm

Thought for the Day - The freezer will always contain everything but what you fancy for dinner

Pug Status - Trying to pretend she's too old for play-fighting with naughty puppies....

I believe it was Joni Mitchell who told us all 'You don't know what you've got till it's gone'. Whilst the paving of Paradise to put up a parking lot was no doubt praised by those who no longer had to walk so far to the shops, I find myself agreeing in principle with Ms. Mitchell. After moaning about all the wet weather of a few weeks ago I am actually looking forward to a bit of rain and am currently looking through the Oaklands College prospectus in the hope of finding an evening course in Indian Rain Dance....

I acquired myself a fantastic sauna this morning, and it didn't cost me a penny. It's called my car. When I got in this morning it was that humid and fiery I had to check the back just to make sure I hadn't left an asthmatic dragon in there. All it needed was four middle-aged portly Swedish businessmen dressed only in towels idly discussing the merits of the latest Volvo....

Obi Pug Kenobi is escaping from the hot weather by conserving energy, with plenty of rest and lots of naps. Which seems to be her strategy for the cold weather of winter. And those tricky in-between Spring and Autumn days. We had a phone call today about getting some extra cover on her insurance but as she can barely see over the windscreen I didn't think it worth adding her as an extra driver....

Interested to hear Steve's eulogising of a particular brand of kitchen towel on Hertbeat breakfast this morning. I tried cleaning up a particular nasty vegetable oil spillage with a handful of Bounty once; I was picking bits of coconut and chocolate out of the worktop corners for a month....

Cricket, lovely cricket....!!!!

Sunday, 8pm

Thought for the day - Never trust anyone who says "It's only a ten-minute job"

Pug Status - Cooling off, belly down, on laminate flooring

A sweltering but very rewarding day with Carl & Lauren on the StreetBeat team at Stevenage Town Centre Gardens this afternoon. Lots of friendly people, some of whom bought copies of Steve's book 'Dear Mr DJ'! They all wanted signed copies so thank goodness Steve's signature is so easy to forge! (That was just a joke by the way. They were genuine Mr Folland signatures. And that's what I'll say to the court should they find that cheque-book of his in my garage....)

So, England have won the Ashes back from Australia - hurrah! I love cricket - any game that has a scheduled interval for tea couldn't be any more olde English. You half expect the players to take to the field wearing monocles and cravats, strolling to the wicket after demolishing piles of scones, Battenburg cake and buttered toasted crumpets. Any sport that encourages spectators to sit down for five days drinking beer is all right by me....

Obi Pug Kenobi continues to seek solace from the burning sun, taking every opportunity to stand in front of the fridge when the door opens (although this may also be just for a sneaky look at what she has for dinner). She even followed me into the shed this evening, where the final transformation of me turning into my Dad was completed - I was putting a small stick of wood aside specifically to stir paint with....

Must go and put some after-sun on my head. Just had a glance in the mirror and I look just like a Swan Vesta matchstick....