Test (2013) Film Trailer

Set in San Francisco in 1985, Test is a new film about two gay men in a romantic relationship in the early days of the AIDS epidemic. Frankie and Todd are ballet dancers living with the spectre of the disease in the oppressive, anti-gay atmosphere of Reagan’s administration in the 1980′s. While their love blossoms, […]

Printable draft schedule for OpenTech 2013

Thursday, May 16, 2013 – 14:05

OpenTech 2013 is this Saturday and I’m going to it. It’s the super-cheap conference to discuss technologies which enable transparent democracy, social change and individual empowerment. Registration is still open, but only till 5pm BST this evening: after that, you’ll have to turn up on the day after 10:20 and hope for a spare ticket, cancellation or no-show.

As it’s only formal-ish (not like a barcamp, but certainly – and thanfully – not like Google I/O) then the schedule will probably necessarily remain in draft up to the day itself. If it’s anything like recent years, the schedule will be posted at specific locations in the venue. But you might feel more comfortable with a personal copy, in which case: be warned! as the organizing team are at pains to point out, you should not rely on the venue wifi: that includes using it to look up the online version of schedule.

So, for simple portability around the venue, or maybe just for working out what you’re going to see while you’re still on the train into London, you might want to download this draft schedule PDF I’ve put together. Either print it off, or just have a copy handy on your electronic device of choice: for portability and for physically small devices, I’ve “optimized it for succinctness” by paring down the page content to the bare minimum (so not including the sidebar or abstracts) and simplifying colours etc.

Hope someone other than me finds it useful, anyway! See you at OpenTech?

A Beautiful Mess app for Pictures

I love taking pictures on my smart phone. Most of the time, I use Instagram. I am a huge fan of it, with the different filters it has (that help hide my poor photography skills!) and how easy it is to share on Twitter & Facebook. So when I saw the Emma & Elsie over [...]

F is for First World Problem

This is a small community service announcement to be filed under F, for ‘First World Problems’. The other afternoon I found myself caught up in one of my quarterly home tidying rampages. If you’re astute, which we both know you are, you can probably spot the problem immediately. Quarterly is clearly not often enough. If I had these rampages daily, well, they probably wouldn’t be rampages would they?  They would just be tidying my house. The problem is I feel like I tidy my house all day anyway. It’s just never perfectly tidy. There is always stuff. There’s always a basket of laundry to be hung, or folded or put away. There is ALWAYS something soaking in a bucketful of napi-san. There are always books out, blocks scattered and pairs of my heels* lying around.

Usually I just potter about and tidy as the day goes on but the trouble is that the minute I turn my back to tidy one mess another mess, or three, magically transpires. This is, of course, called life with kids and I find generally it’s easier to acquiesce and just accept there will be some level of clutter at pretty much all times. Which is mostly fine except for when I embark upon one of my quarterly rampages and do my best impression of a captain in the army or school principal marching about the place in utter disgust. When this happened the other evening the kitchen was at the top of my hitlist. My issue, or one of my issues to be strictly accurate, was with the, er, dishwasher. (This is where we start to swim in serious first world problem seas.)

My first world problem is that our dishwasher doesn’t dry anything that is plastic. And, because we live with two small children, at any given time our dishwasher is likely to be stacked at a ratio of one piece of crockery to six pieces of plastic. So every time I unstack the dishwasher, at least once a day, I need to stack three quarters of the load on the drying rack. But the drying rack is inevitably still stacked with other pieces of plastic that still haven’t dried yet because the drying rack isn’t big enough to fit all of it. I then have to dry some by hand to make room for the next load and it feels like I handle each piece approximately eight times before it can be put back in the drawer. It’s just another mini-arena in The Tetris Family Challenge but occasionally, or quarterly to be specific, it DRIVES ME BONKERS.

Anyway after my rampage we went across the bridge to have dinner with some friends. During our delicious meal (served on dishwasher friendly crockery) I casually, but seriously, raised my wet plastic dilemma. You can imagine how enthralled our friends were. “Gosh this Georgie’s a hoot! I mean the things she does and sees!! Her dinner party chat is gold standard!” Anyway our host Belinda was not only kind enough not to ask me to leave immediately but she also came up with a solution. Open the dishwasher and pull out the shelves in the morning and by midday they’ll be dry with no triple handling. And it works! GENIUS! So genius that I wanted to share it in case any of you are “struggling” (in fine first world style) with the same problem I was.

While I’m talking about this particular group of friends I also have to mention my friend Sally. She had her first beautiful baby a month before I had Miss L and has recently joined the blogging fray. She is funny and clever and is now blogging here. Drop by and say hi. (And ask her to whip up that raspberry, almond and chocolate cake she made last week). She’ll even tell you why she was on the news yesterday.


Do you have any first world problems you need solved? I’m sure Belinda will have a solution!
*My heels are, sadly, not scattered around because I’ve been wearing them but because my ‘party shoes’ are Miss I’s number one item of choice in our whole house.  

open studio

Well, my studio exhibition is all ready to open this Saturday, here are some photos from last years show. I’ve made lots of new pieces; from vintage lace brooches, coin purses, jewellery pouches to clutch purses, lots of handmade cards and also three s…

Review: Tesco Loves Baby Nappies & Wipes

With the sad demise of Huggies nappies in the UK, we were looking for an alternative – especially as nappies cost so much, we wanted a cost effective option too. We put Tesco Loves Baby, Aldi’s Mamia and Cheeky Bots nappies, also available at Tesco to the test. Today I’m reviewing the Tesco Loves Baby […]

Poem of the Week: Poppies

Each week I will post a poem from one of my previous poetry collections to give readers a taste of the kind of poetry I write. This week I give you ‘Poppies’, a poem taken from my second collection of poetry, The Loss House (2012), which you can purchase by clicking here. Poppies Today they gave you poppies, […]

Using a central log server to monitor your devices

At home, which is also my office, I have a network that has a number of devices connected to it. Some of these devices – wifi base stations, NAS storage, a couple of raspberry pis, media centers – are headless (no monitor or keyboard attached), or in the case of the media center, spend their [...]

Poppy Goes to Training School

We’ve started training classes with Poppy. It’s a six week course, starting with the basics and hopefully ending with Poppy being able to do exactly as she’s told & performing a few tricks! So off Poppy & I went, with, what I thought was, plenty of treats and high hopes. It was exhausting! There were [...]

Rich perspective

I love reading. Newspapers. Books. Websites. Magazines. Blogs. Where there are words my eyes are happy to follow. I particularly like it when my eyes happen upon a bunch of words that change the way I’m thinking or feeling. This happened last week when I read this article that Rachel Hills wrote about the privileged poor. It made me realise that I have been carrying on like entitled royalty. Not out aloud or anything. There have been no tears over tiaras and no tantrums because no one will buy me a pony. My entitled princess tendencies are (mostly) invisible to bystanders. Actually, until now, they’ve been mostly invisible to me too. They’ve been quietly embedded in my psyche and I’d like to thank Hills for forcing me to burrow them out.

Rachel wrote about the growing number of Australians who consider themselves to be struggling despite being quite well off. She makes the point that it’s become quite commonplace to cry ‘poor’ when something even quite discretionary – a night out, a trip away, a new outfit – is out of reach. In her words:

“The result is … either you are “poor” and poised on the edge of bankruptcy, or you are “comfortable” and you never have to think about money at all. But being middle-class doesn’t mean never needing to make a choice about what you spend your money on. It means having the wiggle room to choose in the first place.”

Reading that I realised that I’d fallen into that very trap. Of believing that I’m poor because I constantly juggle what we can and can’t afford. Last year I wrote about the inevitable stress that arises when there is little difference between incomings and unavoidable outgoings. A small change in our fiscal favour made a huge difference to my peace of mind and I was determined not to let it go. I let it go. A few things have obviously changed in the interim; having a second baby and being on maternity leave have certainly had an impact in strict budgetary terms. Regardless of the specific trigger for a while now I’ve been begrudging the fact I have to watch where every dollar goes. I dislike feeling stressed about money. I don’t like constantly doing sums in my head and having to say no to things because our bank balance won’t stretch that far. I hate receiving unexpected bills and I dream of doing the groceries without a strict budget looming large.

Now taken on their own I don’t think any of those admissions are particularly ugly. I doubt anyone likes worrying about money. The trouble is somewhere along the line it seems I developed the misguided assumption that I shouldn’t have to host those worries. So worse than just disliking a tight fiscal policy I’ve been feel slightly affronted by having to run one. Now I realise that sentence is not particularly pretty. It was actually tougher to type and share with you than it was to admit to myself. I honestly hadn’t realised I was thinking that way but Hills’ article made me see the error at the root of my discontent. Once I spotted it, in all of its unfettered privileged glory, I could challenge it. Because I’m so far from poor it is ridiculous. Having to be careful with money doesn’t make me poor; it makes me not rich. And there’s a big difference. I’m slightly ashamed but very grateful it took Rachel’s words for me to see that.

And I’ll be frank about my gratitude; it’s not entirely altruistic. While it’s confronting to realise I’ve been thinking like an entitled princess it’s also liberating. Because feeling hard done by, even just subconsciously, isn’t nice. And while I know, in all consciousness, that I’m not hard done by, I had fallen into the trap of thinking that in the fiscal department I am. I’m not. I don’t own a home or have a whopping nest egg but I also never have to worry about not being able to afford rent or not being able to feed the girls or pay our bills. Who knew that realising I’m not rich would make me feel so rich?

Now that I’ve made yet another unflattering confession can one of you please – even anonymously – share something you say or do or think that’s not ideal?? It’s in the circle of trust!  

Tuesday Treat – Planting Up the Pots

It’s so disappointing when we get a burst of sun and warmth, then it disappears again. It’s so difficult to get garden jobs done, when it’s cold, raining & so very windy, like it has been this past week. But I’ve been determined to bring a bit of colour into the garden so despite the [...]

May Day Poster

I’ve had a few requests for copies of my Oxford May Day poster, which has been all over Oxford bus stops during the last month or so. I can’t get hold of original posters at this size, but am making…

Who the hell is Harry Potter? Discuss …………

Greetings from shitty Oxford (it’s raining). It’s me here – the sporadic one.

I’ve named myself  ‘the sporadic one’ because my blog posts are currently sporadicer than someone with Tourette’s Syndrome shouting ‘COCK’.

It’s all down to the same old excuse – work. I worked so hard last week that I couldn’t feel my face.

Anyway, enough of that work milarky; after putting in a good 6 hours of solid labour, I decided that it was time for some fun. And because I have got a military mind, I had already rung my friend Sarah to suss out things that a 7 year old might like doing ……….. and with the results in, I decided to approach the rug-rat ………

“Izzy, do you want to do something fun?” I asked her. Which is a bit like asking Paris Hilton if she would like to drop her skids.

“YEH!” yelled Izzy (that kid needs a Swiss Finishing School).

“Bally good, because I have organised a treat for you,” I said before adding; “and May and Guy are coming too.” [May is one of Izzy's bessie mates, and May's Dad, Guy, is a chum from the village. AKA DJ Hyper].

“MAY’S COMING TOO?” screamed Izzy, so excited that she looked like she was going to vom up the chocolate Santa that she had eaten for dinner: “WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

Jeez, that girl’s shouting is going to land me with an early Ear Trumpet.

“We are going to visit the film studios where they made the Harry Potter films,” I replied with my fingers in my ears in order to minimise the damage.   

 ”NO WAY! THAT’S THE BEST!” hollered Izzy. I was glad that she was pleased, even though I was a little perplexed, not having any idea of who Harry Potter was myself.

I felt triumphant like Napoleon Bonaparte, except that my arm wasn’t chopped off …….. nor did I have an arrow in my eye …… or whatever it was that happened to the clumsy git.

Soon the designated day arrived, and Guy and May turned up at the house in Guy’s bling mobile (a Jaguar XF sport), to whisk me and Izzy to the Harry Potter film studios. I say ‘whisk’ but the journey was more of a fingernails embedded in the dashboard, and an intercontinental ballistic missile in the boot kind of experience.

Twenty-three minutes later and we had completed the 44 mile journey to our destination. My eyes were watering and my hair was all stuck out behind me in a horizontal fashion because I had pulled so much G. Relief washed over me, and I spilled out of the passenger door, kissed the car-park, and shouted, “I’m alive!” whilst simultaneously punching the air.

And because I am like Mother Theresa (except that I don’t have hair growing out of my ears), I have got some photographs for you …………………..

Pic.No.1 We’ve arrived! This is the location where all the Harry Potter films were made. Even though I didn’t have a scooby who this Harry Potter chap was

Pic.No.2 Here is Izzy and her chum May. I forgot to mention that Izzy broke her leg skiing in Austria, so she had to be pushed round in a bloody wheelchair. But then I realised that it was a good thing because we were automatically ushered to the front of every queue. Kerching!

Pic.No.3 This was the Great Hall where this Harry Potter chap ate his meals. It looks real until you look at the roof, then you can tell that it’s a set (but not one where badgers live)

Pic.No.4 This is still in the Great Hall, and I was a little perturbed by all the people with no faces

Pic.No.5 This is the set where Harry Potter slept

Pic.No.6 Dorm room? The people have gone from having no faces to having no heads. On the plus side, at least people won’t judge them by their looks

Pic.No.7 Look! A comedy dog in the wallpaper. And that stone staircase wasn’t stone. It was made of egg boxes or something similar. I can’t quite remember

Pic.No.8 May had a fight with an ugly bloke in a dress. He had a machete and she had an orange stick. I still had my money on May

Pic.No.9 More people with no heads standing in a wobbly cottage set. I have just thought of another advantage; they won’t have to clean their ears out

Pic.No.10 This was cool – it was a Set that used perspective to make it look like it was a full sized corridor, but in reality it only went back about three feet and was only four feet tall

Pic.No.11 A bloody big clock thing. Is it me, or is that bloke in front posing at a provocative angle?

Pic.No.12 I had a face-off with this guy and I won

Pic.No.13 Here we have May and Raspberry Ripple (aka Sicknote, aka Izzy), mesmerised by the Harry Potter Sets

Pic.No.14 After seeing all the indoor sets, the tour took us to the outside bits. I thought that I had accidentally wondered onto the set of Brookside, but apparently this is Privet Drive, where Harry Potter lived. Even better, there was a comedy leg kicking a an unsuspecting woman in the vag (see left of the picture)

Pic.No.15 Whilst we were touring the outside Sets, Guy discovered a bar that served beer. But he ended up gutted because he accidentally ordered a non-alocholic beer whilst I had the real thing. He complained bitterly to staff and they swapped it for him ……..

Pic.No.16 This is me – Hurrah! With my new short red hair and a small child doing a comedy walk in the background

Pic.No.17 Here we have a triple decker bus. And a man sat on a motorbike looking like he is guffing in the general direction of a small child

Pic.No.18 Old house? I really should have done some revision about this Harry Potter bloke before embarking upon the tour

Pic.No.19 After exploring the outside Sets, we went into the ‘Special Effects’ exhibition. It looks like they have featured several of my ex-colleagues

Pic.No.20 I love dead animals I do. Imagine my excitement when I stumbled across a number of hydraulically-driven deceased mammals ... I LOVE the beatboxing dead chick

Pic.No.21 RARRRR! I found this comedy stuffed fox thing in the ‘Special Effects’ department. It had the same expression that people have when they come round to my house for dinner

Pic.No.22 Just to clear up any confusion ….. I am the one on the left

Pic.No.23 All the sets were mocked up in paper before they were built ……… I’m glad that wasn’t my job

Pic.No.24 This is Guy posing in front of a whole street that was mocked up in the studios. If you look carefully, there appears to be a Freisian cow trying to scale the fence in the background

Pic.No.25 “The Sale of Unicorn Blood is Forbidden” sign. If I found a unicorn, I would make a bacon and unicorn butty with brown sauce and a fried egg .… and maybe a processed cheese square

Pic.No.26 “Puking Pastilles”. I just liked him because he was vomming and I could eat what he vommed out [note to self ... should I divulge this in public?]

Pic.No.27 This was a mock-up of the Harry Potter castle. It was WAY bigger than it looks in this photo and it was used to film all the ‘outside the castle’ shots. The lighting on this exhibit kept changing so that you could see it in daylight and at night

Pic.No.28 This was the Harry Potter castle in twilight. It’s obviously haunted because there are orbs up at the top

Pic.No.29 This was the Harry Potter castle at night-time

Pic.No.30 Ok, I really thought that the construction of this bridge was cool …… only because I am an engineer and my grot-mag of choice is ‘Engineering Weekly’ …… now published with added bridges and dams

Pic.No.31 Hurrah! It’s me! I am standing by the Harry Potter castle so that you can get some idea of the scale. It was more enormous than a spitting camel. And my hair looks really red. Jane dyed my hair red, she did

Pic.No.32 At the end of the tour, we went through some kind of apothecary. Guy eased the load a bit by pushing Izzy along in her wheelchair
All in all, it was a top day out. But rather expensive for the price. It cost £100 for all four of us to do the tour, which equated to 24 bottles of wine or four bottles of Bolly dahlink. I felt cheated. 
But hey, the journey back to Oxford was just as memorable as the inbound journey, due to Guy’s natural exuberance behind the wheel. I covered my eyes and just shouted; “BLOODY NORA!” the whole way back as he weaved his way in and out of the traffic at 100mph.
And this beautiful scene was only punctuated by Izzy and May shouting “STOP SWEARING!” back at me. 
It was like participating in ‘Apocalypse Now’.

Pic.No.33 After the hair-raising action of being a passenger in a car being driven by a mad-man, it was with great relief that I arrived back home ……… alive …………….and then spotted this rainbow at the bottom of my garden

Apparently, there is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, but when I went to dig it up, there was just a water-treatment plant at the end …….. most disappointing.

Never mind ……. more to come dahlink.