Properly Clipped On Like A Peg Should

By popular request (well, Andy mentioned it once), here's my very belated run down of my Summer. In order to do this, I need to go all the way back to July. Bear with me, though, because it's not going to be like your boring old uncle talking through his holiday snaps.

That last sentence isn't true.


The last thing I told you about my trip to Sydney was this - an account of why I love Aussie Rules referees. Well, as you may’ve read on Jonny’s blog, we also went to the Sydney Opera House for a bit of the old Shostakovich. Even though we were in the cheap seats, we had a great view. Indeed, as Jonny explained at the time, we got in for the under-30s' price, even though only H is under-30. I let Jonny do the talking, because he's really rather good at it, and he did a superb job of charming our ticket-seller into believing that two balding, wrinkly men, one of whom was walking with the aid of a walking stick, were still in the first (or possibly second) flush of youth. Although thinking about it, perhaps she thought we were senile OAPs and were therefore concessions anyway.


Usually I wouldn't bother trying to get in for a cheaper price, but Jonny was out of work at the time and didn't seem to mind people thinking that we were students, so I allowed myself to be carried along on the crest of his penny-pinching wave. On the night, we made sure that our trousers were hanging below our underwear in the style of the youth of today, just in case. Anyway, here's Oprah's House from within:

And without:

The next day we went whale-watching, which prompted lots of Welsh accents, although there were no whales. If you don't see whales you get your money back, so we got a voucher for another boat trip. I'm going back to visit H and J at Chrimbo, so, unless Jonny's flogged the voucher for a profit(!), we'll be going on another boat trip of some kind.

Even though there were no whales, we saw zillions of dolphins. According to our jocular whale-watch guide, dolphins are part of the whale family, which I hadn't realised, but they didn't count as whales when it came to getting our money back. This all seemed rather generous to me, and I felt as if I didn't deserve such generosity since the previous day I'd listened to classical music with deceitfully youthful ears.

Anyway, I failed miserably to take photos of any dolphins because they simply refused to pause in mid-air while I got my camera ready. Somewhat predictably, I did get some good pictures of the sky. Regular readers will know that I have a bit of a sky fixation:

Did loads of other great stuff in Sydney too, all of which Jonny has mentioned, including climbing all the way up to the bridge a mere month after knee ligament surgery. Jonny counted the steps, which really helped. Finally, I bid a sad farewell to Jonny:

And H:

Sydney was brill, and I'm looking forward to seeing it without a crocked knee and when it's not freezing cold. Thanks again, H and J. Only a month to go! Writing this has brought back some top memories. There's now less time ahead of me until I next go than there is behind me since I last went.

I like that last sentence, because it only just makes sense.

After Sydney, I went back to Singapore and moved house. I realised that we have too much stuff:

After a couple of days spent unpacking boxes, I went back to England. I met one niece for the first time:
And got reacquainted with another:

No summer would be complete without playing Pegs™, the rules of which have changed since my last visit. Andy has described the rules at length, but really all there is to it is lobbing pegs, corks and various bones that are lying around in your back garden into some receptacles at the other end of the garden. You get points according to which receptacle your projectile lands in. One of the receptacles is a wire mesh (known as 'the four-two mesh', because you get four points if your peg stays in the mesh, and two if it drops down to the pot beneath). It produced one of my favourite phrases of the summer. Andy went to inspect whether one of his pegs had landed in the mesh, and he informed us that it was in fact 'properly clipped on like a peg should.' This, I decided, was a good metaphor to describe things going well. If, for example, people ask me if I'm having a good time, I now reply that I'm properly clipped on like a peg should, thanks for asking. The latest Killers album is properly clipped on like a peg should, too. I'm sure you get the idea. It takes a bit longer to say than 'fine, thanks,' or 'really good,' but so what.

This is one of those pleasing sentences that I referred to here, when I pointed out the probable uniqueness of the sentence 'we were led through the labyrinthine innards of the bamboo structure by the euphoniumist'. It's one of those sentences where the words make sense, but they can surely never have been combined in such an obscure order before throughout history. Indeed, one could go so far as to say that those sentences themselves are properly clipped on like pegs should (be).

I do realise how silly all this is, by the way.

Anyway, here are Chewie, Andy and Joe in a very obviously posed photograph, looking as if they're about to play Pegs:

One gloriously grey, blustery day, I went to the seaside - Clevedon, no less - with my parents and one of the nieces. There's a pier there. Going on this pier made me realise that, even with no amusements on them, piers are brilliant, and other countries that don’t have them, or call them disappointing things like 'jetties', are rubbish. Save our piers! They’re architecturally pleasing to the eye! You can fish off them! Some of them have turnstiles and you have to pay stupidly small, quaint amounts of pence to get on them! Most importantly of all, they jut out into the sea and everything!

Indeed, in September, four of my friends who I’ve been in bands with in the past were supposed to be playing a gig on this very pier. Having been in trendy guitar or hip-hop bands, they’re now in a ukulele band – ukulele being the new guitar, or something - and are playing things like “I Predict A Riot”, “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” and, of course, “When I’m Cleaning Windows” (known only as "Windows" in any conversation I had with the band about it) on the uke. So good luck to Joe, Neil, Ieuan and Mike. When I return home, please can I join in? If any of you are reading this gibber, did the gig on the pier happen?

Here’s the pier:

This snap was taken at the end of the pier and is perhaps a symbol of our times, if not politically, then certainly footballingly after the last World Cup:

Whilst in England, I saw the best sunset that I’ve seen in the last two years. Sunsets just don’t seem to happen in the same way in my part of the world. Bristol still rules as sunset capital in my book. This from my brother’s back garden:

I caught up with some people I hadn’t seen in years at Mark’s 30th. I had a brilliant weekend with them all. The main thing I can remember about it is laughing long and hard. I managed to get this photo of Em with an international athlete, whose autograph I will ask for next time I see him, Jonny:

And I got this one, too, which ranks as one of the most extraordinary photos I’ve ever taken. All I said was, “Let’s make this a cheesy one, please” and Andy and Chewie’s faces seemed to turn to rubber. A case of Mr Hyde and Mr Hyde:

Andy and I both took photos of Sam drinking brandy or something rather late in the evening, looking every inch the Victorian gent:

In other news, baby Ben was born to Neil and Cath about a week into my trip home. He was over 10lb when he was born, and I found myself calling him “champ” automatically as soon as I met him. Ben had an operation on his heart a couple of days before I came back to Singapore. It went very well and Ben is now in rather good shape, so I gather. The day before the operation, I went in to see the three of them in hospital and said ‘goodbye’ because I was leaving for Singapore two days later. That was horrible. Fortunately, after Ben’s op, Neil and Cath came out on my last night, despite having had very little rest and having been through all that stress, and we were able to have a much nicer ‘goodbye’. Winner:

9 years on and Funky Onion is still going strong, with Dave and Joe Onion still doing for House Music what Teddy Sheringham is doing for West Ham United:

Dave and I were at the Oval on that fateful day when Pakistan cheated, or didn’t, as the case may be. You know those flats that overlook the ground? The ones the TV cameras always show cos people are on the balconies watching the game from there? You know how you wish you knew someone who lives in one of those flats? Well, we know someone who lives there and so we saw a crazy, historic day of cricket for free! Although, of course, we had no idea what was going on because we were inside the flat having a spot of lunch at the time. Anyway, here's the proof that we were there:

And here's that historic scoreboard:

Finally, I also went to Wookey Hole for the first time ever. Here I am with Pen, sister-in-law extraordinaire, and the children. Photo taken illegally by Dave. Apparently, flash photography scares the bats. There were no bats in this section anyway. At least, not after the flash photography:

I had a brilliant summer, and I've only not written about it sooner because I was helping Ella finish her MA, then we had 8 weeks of guests in a row. That was brilliant, too, but it meant that instead of writing I've been sightseeing. My trip home was all too short this year and it gets harder every year to leave. Still, you can't have your cake and eat it, can you? Whatever that means.

Finally finally, every time I switched on the radio in England, they were playing 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol. Is that still the case?