NaBloPoMo Day 3 - Disco Dog

We've had our new best friend, Dexter, since January. The nights were long and dark and cold then, often calling for a fleece jacket, scarf, gloves and a warm coat over all that to fend off the chill. But back then, having only just brought Dexter home from the shelter, we were wary about letting him off the lead and waited several weeks before doing so. By then the nights were a little shorter so we weren't always out in the pitch black but even then we both realised we would probably need some form of light come this autumn and winter.

Sure enough, as the days grew shorter and the nights drew in, I treated us to a nice little wind-up torch from Amazon Marketplace. It's lightweight and handy for finding the gum gum (a sort of rubber stick, which is Dexi's favourite toy) and we never have to worry about the battery running down. However, we still sometimes struggle to find our mostly black dog in the dark. Every now and again he will jog on ahead and disappear completely into the night, only to be (occasionally) located as two glowing green marbles off in the distance, reflected in the light of the torch. He doesn't usually go too far and is nearly always waiting patiently for us to catch up but it's nice to know where he is.

This afternoon, I struck upon the perfect solution. The local pound shop sells everything from sweets and crisps to bleach and all for a pound (or more). I was in there picking up some curtain rings for Mum and scouting for a combination padlock for hubby's first foray in the gym for almost half decade. The shop has a small cycling section, mostly consisting of seat pads, puncture repair kits and reflectors, but today they had little flashing LED lights on elastic and sold in packs of two. At a quid I figured it was worth a try.

Success!

Even in the darkest bits of the park we can still locate our boy by his little blinking red light. Instead of looking for the torch reflecting off his eyes we can now see him straight away, no matter which direction he's decided to randomly run off in. Its also much harder for him to dummy us into looking for the gum gum that he's already found, retrieved and run off with. Although the red does make him seem rather demonic, at times it's like something from the Mothman Propechies, score one for the home team!

NaBloPoMo Day 2 - The Blackadder Five

Surely, every Brit over the age of about 20, thinks fondly upon the various incarnations of the BBC comedy series, Blackadder. It was a series that lasted only four years (a blip when you consider the long run of some other shows) and made only around 24 episodes, yet it's influence extends far and wide; even friends in Europe and the States have seen and fallen in love with it.

For those of you that are not familiar with the show, each season was set in a different historic period, reincarnating the same characters in slightly different guises. The first season, "The Black Adder", was set at the end of the Medieval period. The second season, "Blackadder II", was set during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. The third season, "Blackadder The Third", was set during the Regency period. And the final, and most accomplished season, "Blackadder Goes Forth", was set during the first world war. Each outing followed the misadventures of Edmund Blackadder, whose personal fortune waned as his wit and intelligence increased through history. He was always accompanied by his loveable, yet dimwitted man-servant/crony, Baldrick, whose lack of personal hygiene was commensurate with his lack of intelligence. Plaguing our leading man was usually a person of elevated but undeserved rank or position. Hugh Laurie's Prince Regent was particularly memorable to me, as was Miranda Richardson's Queen Elizabeth I (fondly referred to as Queenie), who had a propensity to strop like a five year old at the drop of a hat.

It is somewhat difficult to explain the charm of these characters or the spell that the series cast, but charming and spellbinding it was, as well as being somehow quintessentially British. It was as thought provoking as it was side-splittingly funny and the final episode of the final series stills calls forth a tear with its poignancy.

So why write about this now? Well, if Internet rumour is to be believed (and it often isn't) a fifth season may be on the way. Rowan Atkinson himself has been reported to have said that "Generally speaking, Blackadder seemed to work best when there was a sort of claustrophobic world and a hierarchy. So if you can think of any situations in which they are dominant – then I think there is a possibility of a fifth series." (Mail Online, 1st October 2011)

So as I head off to bed tonight, I am hoping that this particular Internet rumour might pan out and we might be rewarded with a fifth series set sometime between the end of the first world war and the present day (or even the future?) Personally, I could see Blackadder stalking London's streets in the 80s, but there is so much fun to be had with the past. Rumour has it that Tony Robinson would like to make "The Blackadder Five" set in the 60s and following the misfortunes of a five piece rock band of the same name. Presumably Blackadder would be the unfortunate frontman of the group while Robinson's 'Bald Rick' would be the unhygienic and slow-witted drummer.

In any event, I think it might be time to get out the Blackadder DVD boxset and get watching again.

NaBloPoMo Day 1 - Inspiration

Inspiration is a funny old thing. It can come from the most unlikely (or indeed, the most likely) of places. Sometimes it even seems like inspiration is ganging up on you; different sources of inspiration banding together to corner you until you submit. As is the case in this instance.

For a while now, I have been following the escapades of Erica Lucke Dean, a wonderful up-and-coming chick-lit writer from Atlanta, who posts a daily blog. To my shame, I am a little bit behind and need to catch up on the last week or so, but her posts almost always amuse me, make me think, or make me smile and it is with a measure of jealousy that I view her blogging regularity. I find it a challenge to remember to brush my teeth every day, so writing a blog every day is an achievement I have often felt envious of.

My Dad, of course, is a huge inspiration in so many aspects of my life, but recent contact with an old school friend has reunited him with his muse and for the first time since my brother died, the creative juices are flowing. My parents have been on holiday for the last couple of weeks in Vietnam (a part of the world that I would love to visit) and every day he has made time to write a thousand or so words of his 'Vietnam Diary', which he emailed to me whenever he had reliable Internet access. I have particularly enjoyed joining them for the ups (27th floor of the Royal Orchid Sheraton Towers in Bangkok) and downs (Dad falling off a bike in Saigon, or Mum nealy ending up in the Mekong) of their voyage, but the real gem has been reading the final few days in the 'Mancheater Diary' when I get to see my life and surroundings through another's eyes.

Finally, I have mentioned before about the friend of at least ten years that I have not yet met. Aaron DeLay is a Denver resident that I met digitally when he joined my role-playing / PBeM / writing group years ago. Although the group has long since disbanded, I have kept in touch with a fair few of the members, including Aaron. He is a young stroke survivor, talented writer and keen photographer. And it was he that added that final level of inspiration to join NaBloPoMo (interNational Blog Posting Month) for October.

So here endeth the first post. I wil TRY to get into a good habit, even if it is just for October, and do justice to the various writers that have inspired me over the last few weeks.