andrew's blog

How to feel miserable as a writer

2012-01-26T12:41:00.003Z

Look, it was tough gig... okay?

Constantly compare yourself to other writers
Talk to your family about what you do and expect them to cheer you on
Base the suceess of your entire career on one prospect
Stick with what you know
Undervalue your expertise
Let money dictate what you do
Bow to societal pressures
Only do work that your family would love
Do whatever the writers' magazines/ agent guides/ instructional books tell you to do
Set unachieveable/ overwhelming goals, to be accomplished by tomorrow

Okay, so this is 'slightly' pinched from something from an anonymous source currently doing the rounds of the interwebs, but the original version was aimed at artists, so I figured a slight re-tuning was needed. If anyone knows who should get credit for this list please let me know!

An Ipswich arts centre for live music? Nah...

2011-12-16T10:05:00.002Z

My well-established gripe is that original live music provision in Ipswich is always overlooked when this town gets money for arts development. I know the reason is that bands are like little self-contained islands, in that they don't naturally work together to get things done for the collective good. Bands are very friendly and helpful with each other, and mutual support within the Ipswich music scene is the crucial glue that binds it together, but bands have always lacked the consistent 'one voice' approach to the curators of cash that organisations like (for example) the Ipswich hospital band can present.

So what's the answer? Well we need either a dedicated soul who will co-ordinate all us loser-musicians (possible I guess), or we need someone at the council with enough vision and passion to take one the task of setting up something along the lines of Norwich or Colchester Arts Centre, but sadly I don't think that's going to happen. It's harsh truth, but one that must be acknowledged that lack of public money has always held back musicians in Ipswich. There are some GREAT pubs to play in here in Ipswich, but commercial pressures can sometimes be an unhelpful influence (and just plain daunting) to anyone wishing to break out of the practise room and into the live music arena.

Suffolk PA Hire company Universal PA proved the need for a Arts Centre sized venue
in Ipswich by putting on The Stiff Little Fingers at the (now defunct)
Ipswich Caribbean Association, the event sold out quickly.

You may wonder I'm talking in terms of public money instead of private, and the reason is that alarmingly setting up the mid-size live music venue (like Norwich or Colchester Arts Centre) that Ipswich desperately needs is unlikely (at first) to be a profitable venture. Good arts funding isn't about making a buck, it's about inspiring and facilitating something admittedly intangible but unquestionably positive for a very large group of people.

So while projects like the recently announced Ipswich arts 'hub' are an outstandingly positive move forward for Ipswich arts, I don't think anyone playing original music should get too excited just yet. But hey, if you want to be the person who takes on the challenge of setting up an Arts centre style venue then I'll do everything I can to help you, in fact I think if someone were brave enough to stand up and be a figurehead for this campaign then he or she would be pleasantly surprised when they looked over their shoulder and saw just how many people were stood behind them backing them up.

UPDATE
There is now an 'Ipswich Arts Centre' website which has been created to discuss this idea http://www.ipswichartscentre.co.uk/

Against Me + Crazy Arm @ Norwich Arts Centre 21/11/11

2011-11-22T12:37:00.002Z

Written for Lights Go out zine

Vicky from Crazy Arm lends Against Me! a hand.

Against Me! have gone through a lot of stylistic and directional changes over the years, and each time I've seen them the joyful passion they exude on stage gets more intense, but bands can't stay on top forever can they? Can they? Read on...

We missed the first band on due to the fact the modern marvel that is the cash machine is yet to grace the streets of Norwich, not that we could see anyhow, but then we are but simple folk from the rural village of Ipswich dazzled by the bright lights of a big city (as the lovely Pete 'Mild' Peril pointed out).

Crazy Arm were not at all what we were expecting - normally we enjoy punk rock tinged with Country about as much as ice cream tinged with dog toffee - but Crazy Arm played with all the intensity of power-sander dentistry, and packed a punch like a nuclear powered erm (bear with me while I look around my desk for inspiration) stapler. Okay, I guess that analogy doesn't work, but Crazy Arm were the perfect kissing cousins to Against Me (quite literally, as Tom Gabel was later to disclose from the stage).

Against Me! frontman @TommyGabel drew a single breath to introduce the band then they pounded through an extremely eclectic set of very old, not so old and brand new material. I've seen this band a bunch of times but never somewhere as small as Nickers. Off. Ready. When. I. Come. Home. Arts Centre and the power blasting from the stage was almost a little overwhelming at times. Almost. There a lot of young kids in the audience which is heartening, because Against Me are a band that just keep getting better and better.

The highlight of the set for me was when Vicky from Crazy Arm joined the band on stage for a spine shattering version of 'Bourne on the FM waves of the heart' - a song I never thought I'd get to see live.

I passionately love a lot of bands, but for me Against Me are a level higher - they're a band I wish I was in.

Too soon it was over and we headed back to Ipswich, a town where they now turn the lights off at midnight.

Andrew Culture

The Ugly Truth About Ipswich

2011-11-16T09:51:00.002Z

The Ugly Truth About Ipswich is a compilation album that my record label (CornDog Records) put out in conjunction with local heroes Antigen Records. I raised the money for this album with a LOT of help from fellow ZEEBer Graham Mann - we organised a ton of gigs and a hilarious inter-band football tournament (a nod also needs to be given to Marc Newby/ Aflightoremember who also organised a fundraiser all-dayer) and then when the considerable amount of money required to put out an album properly was sat in the pot we did nothing...

...Noting for a few years anyway, because we realised there was a whole load of licencing issues involved in putting an album that would cover the last thirty years of Ipswich music. That’s when Jason and Roki of Antigen Records politely tapped us on the shoulder and offered to do all the complex stuff we’re crap at.

So here is, and for just £1 you can buy a copy of The Ugly Truth About Ipswich in most good shops or direct from Antigen records.

The ugly details...
antigen 41 / Corn 017 Various Artists - The Ugly Truth About Ipswich

Release date: 23/4/11
Format: double CD
Edition: 1000
Duration: 2:33:50

Track listing: CD A1.Nik Kershaw - All About You
2.elephant - Kick
3.Henry Homesweet - Toaster
4.The Waxing Captors - Bringing the Beatles Back to Hamburg
5.Versions - Seven
6.Ideals - Love Song
7.Life & Times Of - Ballet
8.Jack Rundell - You Treat Me Like a Businessman
9.The B. Goodes - Sleep So Soundly
10.Rosalita - Manga Girl
11.Underline The Sky - Katie
12.Charlie Brown - Hooray For Snakes
13.Violent Playground - Paranoia
14.Bring Back Her Head - Magpie
15.Hex Minora - Engine of Correction
16.Earth Mother Fucker - I Fuck Therefore I Am
17.Pindown - Flea Circus
18.Tender Lugers - Junkie Fag Hag
19.Jah Warriors - Bad Vibes
20.BangStick - I Got Nothing
21.These Are End Times - End Times (We Are All Condemned)

Track listing: CD 1
1.The Adicts - Songs of Praise
2.Extreme Noise Terror - Religion is Fear
3.Optimum Wound Profile - Pure Love
4.The Stupids - Drumshop Arsehole
5.Anihilated - A Cruel Twist of Fate
6.Raw Noise - Bronson
7.Blacktop Harrison - 37 Thoughts
8.Zeeb? - Amoeba Man
9.Red Flag 77 - Hard Men
10.Chocolate - Customer
11.Big Ray - Duckpin
12.Elmerhassel - Almost At One
13.Panorama In Black - City of Dreams
14.As Is - Love is Here
15.Bleach - Burn
16.Lovejunk - Inside Out
17.Perfect Daze - Bubblegum
18.Junk Culture - Keep Smiling
19.WhiteSlug - Corned Beef Sex Monster
20.Big In Albania - Shewolves Ov London
21.Cats Against The Bomb - Nerys Hughes Vs The Time Tunnel
22.Danger's Close - Denial
23.Space Maggots - You Drag Me Down
24.The Ballistics - Long Time Dead

Ugly Truth About Ipswich Links
Buy a copy from Antigen Records...
Ugly Truth About Ipswich Facebook page...

Beat Motel #9 in Zine World #29

2011-11-08T19:00:00.002Z

Apparently issue #9 of my zine Beat Motel is reviewed in two concurrent issues of Zine World! See the previous post to this one for the other review.

Beat Motel #9 review in Zine World #28

2011-11-08T18:08:00.003Z

Here's a nice review of issue #9 of my zine 'Beat Motel' that I have just found in the awesome 'Zine World #28'. Huge thanks to Stephanos of http://beersihaveknown.blogspot.com for sending it over.
P.s it's not clip art, it's scans from very old magazines.

Buying beer in New England

2011-11-04T11:16:00.002Z

This is an excerpt from an American travelogue Sam Page and I wrote a few years ago, I posted this for the reading pleasure of Stephanos a.k.a. 'Beers I have known blog'.

...Jim took us to his favourite off-licence/ liquor store. Sam and I were agog at the sheer size of this place; it was bigger than most wholesale warehouses I’ve seen. Jim was keen to show us the microbrewery isle. Calling it an isle just doesn’t do it justice, it was more like a small continent of ale, there are principalities in Europe smaller than this isle. Sam and I slowly made our way down the row studying every beer with a similar demeanour employed by folk slowly wandering through fine art galleries.

Left to right is me, Sam Page and our host Jim Reily
(I'm pretty sure Jim should have been holding a steering wheel, but...)

Each beer was only given a few bottles width of space on each shelf, and the racking was five or six shelves high, I have never seen so much beer in all my life, let alone real ale! One of Sam’s favourites came from the Frank Zappa brewery, and had the cover of ‘We're Only in It for the Money’ on the label.

We could have spent hours in that store, but as we only had a little while before we needed to pick Drew up we grabbed some half gallon flagons of milk stout and headed for the checkouts. On the way out I was stunned to see some St.Peters beers, they’re (made just a few miles from my house in Suffolk).

As I walked up the second isle of ale I was astounded to see countless more beers from England, mind you, they weren’t cheap ($20 for six bottles of Stella Artois my arse). While I was amazed to see more English beers than I’d ever seen in England my mind boggled at the logistics, let alone the food miles.

In the same way that I always look for my own band’s CDs in record shops, no trip to an off-licence is complete without checking out what single malts are in stock. Sure enough they had all my favourites, but oh my - they were expensive; with the odd exception of Bowmore, which worked out at just ten pounds a bottle. I rushed like a child to tell Sam of my discovery and had a short but enthusiastic chat about whisky with him before my eye was caught by an entire isle of vodka. I’m not a fan of vodka - in fact it’s probably the quickest way to empty my body of all bile in a most uncivil way - but I am a fan of gawping at obscure alcohol.

As I stumbled along the rows staring slack jawed at the pretty labels I suddenly became aware of the fact I was being followed. With the amount of childish running around that I had been doing I entirely expected the two large blurry objects in my peripheral vision to be security guards. I moved to the next isle. Each time I shuffled forward I heard the sound of stiff soles on plastic flooring echoing my own footsteps. I decided to face the music and casually turned round. I tried to look relaxed enough not to give off an air of guilt, but also so that I could try and feign some sort of innocent surprise when I got my collar felt. It’s very confusing being middle class, if you’ve ever felt guilty for no reason while being followed by a police car you’ll know exactly what I mean. Much to my surprise my stalkers were a middle aged couple who look more surprised than I when I turned to them. After a slightly awkward pause the man lent forward slightly and said in a low and quiet voice,

“The whisky is back over on the row by the doors.”

I guess he had heard me chatting with Sam and assumed I couldn’t find the whisky. I thanked him earnestly, and walked to the tills. This couple summed up the feeling I got from most people in New England - everyone is quite happy to give their neighbours the space to go about their business without interference, but are more than willing to gently help out if they think you are wanting for something. It’s a very endearing way to be. This couple will never know that they were the first piece of what developed into a great jigsaw puzzle of affection I feel for New England.

Lost in words - a Beat Motel special edition

2011-10-27T08:36:00.002+01:00

Cover illustration by Mr. Millerchip

The glorious 'Sticky Institute' (a.k.a. Sticky Distro) in Australia put out a call to zinesters they have stocked asking them to make a special edition zine to raise some cash to keep their doors open. There really is nothing like Sticky in the UK (certainly not that I know of) so by my reckoning it ought to be supported by anyone who has ever read or created a zine. Although my zine Beat Motel hasn't done much recently I decided to flog its good name for any remaining good will that might be lurking and have created a (sort of) special edition.

Whereas Beat Motel was traditionally a home for music, daft band interviews, columnists and toilet humour the special edition is a collection of (very) short bits of fiction by yours truely, with a few other contributions chucked in to queer the quality curve.

Twenty Five copies of 'Lost in words' were printed and posted to Sticky to flog at a big zine event they were reprazenting, but due to the gloriously odd economics of zine printing I printed a few extra (not many mind) and if you're quick enough with your mouse and your typing digits you can buy one of these extra special Beat Motel editions.

This story zine contains the following stories

Compulsory random life obsolescence
Dig for Victor
Duck stuck in fence
Football and machismo turned to my advantage, finally!
Malcolm’s rest
The curious case of the late night knocker
The jumping, scratching, dog squirt story
The feet with a thousand followers
Ask your body
Crossing paths
It wasn’t pink
Time to think by Jason Last
Possible proposition outside Aldgate Underground Station
The curious incident of the black ties and the fake taxi
Debt to Music by Jenny May
DUI by Rich Rurshell

Buy Lost in Words story zine

Prices (postage is FREE)
UK £2
Europe £3
USA/ Australia/ Wordwide (£4)

The importance of bike helmets - Jamie's story.

2011-10-02T12:39:00.003+01:00

Last year an illustrator/ fellow zine punker friend called Steve Larder asked if I'd like to contribute to an exhibition project he was involved in whereby he would draw portraits of friends and then ask them to provide accompanying text (you can read my contribution here). The exhibition turned into a zine and when I received a copy I was particularly moved by the submission that one of the other contributors had made. I am a passionate advocate of folk wearing bike helmets, and without wishing to make light of the situation detailed below I'm astounded that in all the many hundreds of times I had spills on my bike (before buying a helmet) I suffered no lasting injury. The quote below comes from one of Steve's friends, a chap called Jamie who wasn't so lucky.

Steve has very kindly allowed me to pass on the except from his zine that you see below, and I am incredibly grateful to Jamie for sharing his experience in the first place. Bike helmets are piss cheap and can save a lot of heartbreak for you and those who love you. Find out more about Steve Larder's (frankly excellent) illustration work here - http://stevelarder.co.uk/ and here http://stevelarder.wordpress.com/

"In the second week of December I fell off my bike. I was found by the side of the road having a seizure with blood pouring out of my ear. I have no memory of how I crashed, or most of the rest of that day. I've read doctor's notes of conversations I had with them, seen my signature with the date marked on it, and talked to friends who visited me that day, and all of it was news to me.

All I remember about that day is thinking 'This is gonna hurt' as I felt my bike tipping and waking up halfway through a head scan and thinking my bike looked really out of place in the hospital room.

I'd fractured my skull and had a blood clot in my head. I had to spend two weeks in hospital while they decided whether I needed an operation. When I was discharged the doctors noticed that my right eye wasn't closing properly, and a couple of days after that the entire right side of my face was paralysed. I had to have more hospital appointments to discuss that.

They told me there were too many risks in operating, and that it should heal itself over time. Basically the nerves that control my face were swollen or damaged from the crash. There's an 18 month healing period for this, but that doesn't guarantee complete healing. Whatever I'm left with after 18 months is as good as it's going to get. But I have healed a lot already, I still need to take my eye shut at night, and my smile is still lopsided but it seems to be getting better."

Why zines are important.

2011-09-13T11:48:00.000+01:00

Salford Zine Library asked me to film a short talking head bit for a documentary they're putting together on zines. I shot this video when my daughter (Issy) was six days old, and needless to say I hadn't slept for quite a while. I'd like to think I'm saying this so that you understand why I look rough, but to be honest I look much like this all the time.

Electronica kit for sale

2011-07-30T20:26:00.003+01:00

In what was perhaps a moment of miss-guided enthusiasm I managed to amass a bit of electronic music kit. The fever has passed, and I have an M.O.T to pay for, so grab yourself a bargain. This equipment has hardly been used, and has never left my study. I have the boxes/ instructions for everything.

If you'd like to buy something please contact me through www.andrewculture.com

Korg Kaossilator SOLD
£100
http://www.korg.co.uk/products/dance_dj/kaossilator/kaossilator.asp

Korg Monotron - SOLD
£40
http://www.korg.co.uk/products/dance_dj/monotron/dj_monotron.php

Beringer Xenyx 1002fx (mixer)£55 SOLD
http://www.behringer.com/EN/Products/1002FX.aspx

I'm selling ALL my photography equipment - do you want any of it?

2011-07-28T19:57:00.011+01:00

As of the end of July 2011 Web Care Takers (my 'sole-trader' trading name) will close for good. This means that (among other things) I will no longer be a professional photographer. I did consider keeping my photography equipment but HRMC seems to be getting quite aggressive with me so it's time to say goodbye to all my lovely Nikon equipment.

Everything here has been well looked after, if you need your camera and lenses to make money you certainly make sure you take good care of them!

If you are interested in buying any of this equipment please contact me through www.andrewculture.com I'll pay for special delivery on anything you buy (assuming you live in the UK, if not then let's talk).

Nikon D90 body SOLD
Includes box, manual and everything else that arrived with the camera.
I only bought this on the 27th May this year! I've taken less than two hundred photos on it and have only made one video. The D90 has just been superseded, which means you get a bargain of a camera at a very good price indeed. Actually there's a little pro-hint for you; you can always get a bargain if you buy a camera just after its replacement has been launched! I'm looking for £475 for this practically unused camera.
Here's what an expert says about the Nikon D90...

Nikon D300 body SOLD
Includes box, manual and everything else that arrived with the camera.
This was the camera that changed everything - suddenly us pauper photographers could afford a metal bodied, weather-sealed professional camera without loosing a kidney. I've taken nearly 30,000 photos on this camera, and it's designed to take 150,000 between services! I've kept this camera in really great condition, but the rubber 'foot' on it is a little worn where I've had a tripod shoe permanently fixed to it. I want at least £675 for this camera.
Here's what an expert says about the Nikon D300...

Nikon Nikkor AF D 50 mm F/1.4 Lens SOLD
With box, and even with the little baggy the lens was in inside the box!
I have to import this lens from the USA because I couldn't find one in this country. This is without a doubt the sharpest lens I have ever seen in my life. Every other Nikon professional I know proclaims this lens to be the very best there is, especially portraits. It's quite simply breathtaking. I fitted a UV filter on this lens the day it arrived (after I paid the hefty import bill - ouch!) so it's perfect. These lenses appear to have gone up in value since I bought mine, but I'm being modest and only asking £150. If you do a bit of research you'll find out that you can buy a F/1.8 version for about £125 brand new, but believe me, it's worth spending the extra to get this F/1.4 version.
Here's what an expert says about this lens...

Nikon 28-70mm f/2.8 SOLD
Comes with a sun hood that took me a while to track down
This is the daddy of my kit of lenses - it's pretty much the best lens Nikon have ever made (no really!) and has been the lens I have used the most over the last few years. It's big, it's strong, and it's very clever. What a chunk of glass! Brand new these lenses cost a whopping $1,400! Forget getting in a tizzy over which Nikon camera body to buy, just buy anything and put this lens on the front; you pretty much can't go wrong. This is one sexy big chunk of glass! I'm sad about selling all my gear, but this is the lens that I'll miss the most. In fact I'm lovingly stroking it with my right hand as I clumsily type with my left. This is the god of lenses, and I've seen them go for astounding amounts of money on ebay, which is why I'm asking for £750.
Don't take my word for it, here's what an expert has to say about this lens...

Nikon 12-24mm f/4 AF-S DX SOLD
Comes with a polarising filter that has always lived on this lens.
A spot-on landscape/ archietecture/ massive wedding group photo lens. To be honest I haven't used it much, but when I have I've always been impressed with the results. I bought this lens after using a Tokina for a year or so, and I couldn't believe how much better this lens was! Costs anything up to £1000 brand new, and I'm asking a paltry £450.
Find out more...

Nikon Speedlight SB-600 flash SOLD
Comes with padded case and a funky little stand.
It's 'almost' impossible to take a bad photo using this flash, and because it can also act as a remote flash you can get some pretty special results. Takes four batteries and cycles/ charges really very fast. It's not the top of the range Nikon flash, but it's not far off, which why I'm asking £140.
Here's that expert's view again...

Please do get in touch if you have any questions...

Why do I have to pay for domain registration, domain renewals AND hosting?

2011-07-08T18:34:00.000+01:00

This post is a little redundant because I am no longer working in the Web/ IT field, but the question of why people who have personalised email addresses (like joe@blogs.com, rather than joeblogs@hotmail.com) or have their own websites need to pay for domains AND hosts/ hosting popped up so frequently over the years that I ran Web Care Takers I thought it warranted a blog post.

For these examples I'm going to use a fictitious man called Samuel who runs a company called 'Ice Cube Collectors'.

So who do I pay for my domain name and why?
Domain names have to be registered with a central registrar (E.G. ICANN in the USA or Nominet in the UK), but it can be either extremely costly (or impossible) to register directly with registrars so you need to register with an agent company. For example: we use Easily for UK domains and Dotster for International domains. Domain registrations don't last forever, so have to be renewed every few years (depending on how long you have them registered for).

Samuel owns the domain name 'icecubecollecor.com' and pays Dotster for domain registration and renewals. Samuel's website is at www.icecubecollector.com and his email address is samuel@icecubecollector.com Sam pays a host called Better Web Space for hosting.
So why do I have to pay for a host? What the dickens is a host anyway?
In order for Samuel's website to be seen by the world it has to be on a web-server, and in order for Samuel to receive emails at his samuel@icecubecollector.com address all the computers in the world need to know which web-server is the right place to send his emails to. Samuel picks up his emails from the web-server using his iPhone and Microsoft Outlook on his laptop. Both the emails and websites of this world tend to live on the same web-servers, and these web-servers are operated and managed by hosts. They are expensive machines - both to run and to buy - and require very specialist technical knowledge to run safely and securely.

So... what?
So you have to pay a registrar to keep your domain name current and properly registered, and that domain name is 'pointed' at a web-server, which means that you have to pay a web-host to provide that service for you.

Domain names and hosts are two separate things, but one cannot operate without the other: If you own a domain name but do not employ the services of a host you cannot have a website or email addresses set up on that domain.

Why the death of the music industry will make you a better musician.

2011-07-02T18:35:00.002+01:00

Picture is unrelated

Originally published in 'Lights Go Out' zine.

A while back I was having a cheery chat with a friend (Edd from the 'Last Hours' anarchist collective) and he jokingly told me that life was a lot simpler when he was a fifteen year consumer focussed only on winning the national lottery. I laughed, he laughed, we both laughed; you get the picture. While ethics wholly enrich your life in a tangibly (and measurably) holistic way they have a nasty knack of complicating everything.

The laughter turned to thoughtful stubble stroking when I realised that life was also far simpler for the fifteen year old version of me - when I was fifteen I was putting on gigs in village halls and playing in some really cack bands, and the only thing that appeared to matter in my life (apart from the underwear section in Kays catalogue) was getting a big fat record deal. As far as I was concerned (and as far as I knew) getting signed to a major label was all any musician ever needed to get ahead in life and to consider himself/ herself a success. Oh boy has my opinion changed since then, but this isn't about me, it's about why anyone who is serious about music should start preparations for the biggest party ever - the party we'll have when the last major label goes belly up.

If you started playing music to get rich and famous and (to quote Catlin Moran) die on the shitter covered in whatever sticky substance you're addicted to then don't feel bad; it's the reason most of us first picked up an instrument in anger; I know it was my motivation, well that and to try and get a snog. But if you're still adhering to that monetary motivation all these years later than I'm afraid you've got a problem.

Focussing all your musical energies on making pots of cash is like buying cooking ingredients in the hope that owning them will make you a famous chef - you can still create some fantastic food and make a significant contribution to the development of your culinary world, but the chances of you becoming rich and famous doing so are very slim. And nobody seems to like famous chefs much anyway so why bother. Which brings me to my final point...

The self destruction of the major label led music industry has the potential to make you a better musician because it (over time) will remove the money focussed blinkers from your eyes, and without the pressure to be commercially successful (which ALWAYS involves artistic compromise) you're free to create something truly new, something exciting, and something that genuinely contributes to the world of music.

Create music for music's sake, not for the shareholders of a global corporation. Remove the desperate pressure to be a global sensation from your ambition and your creativity will flourish.

Kay Barrett | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:42:00.000+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 10th October 2008

It was a cold and foggy November night in 1997 when I arrived at Shrubland Hall for my very first treatment. I went in through the back entrance; everything was quiet, no-one there but me. There was a smell and warmth when you entered – it was lovely after the cold outside. This I came to realise later was the fragrance of the Shrubland products used in all the treatment rooms, and the massive boilers that kept the place so warm even in the winter.

My patient, as they were referred to then, duly appeared and I did the treatment in the cosy little ‘Aroma Room’ with its wallpaper of roses all over the walls and ceiling. There were drapes at the far end and a pretty ruched curtain at the tiny window. This was to become my favourite room to work in.

After the treatment I left, again by the back door, it was still very foggy and it felt like a scene from ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ but fortunately there were no hounds – just the sheep!

A few months later, having moved into a cottage in the grounds, I took over Kay Oxford’s two days a week when she left to start her own business. The girls I worked with were all friendly and helpful. At first there was Georgina, Gail and Kelly – it was Georgina who kindly showed me all around the house and made me feel very welcome. Then as they left, along came Natasha, Andrea and Lucy, and latterly it was Laura, Sharon and Leanne.

I loved working there. During the day it was manic – a hive of activity – especially during the mornings when all the water treatments took place with people screaming as they were blitzed with cold water after their underwater massage and everyone rushing around
from room to room doing various treatments. In the afternoons, it was quieter with lots of facials, manicures and pedicures taking place. Other treatments were given by talented people like Michael Hardy who did shiatsu, Peter Stevens with his Tai Chi, Michael Mann, Pilates and the masseurs, Norman, Olaf, Chris and Tony Simpson who was always leaving and coming back.

I met Lady de Saumarez several times and gave her underwater massage and she had a Caci treatment before a TV crew arrived the following day – she was amazing and the whole inspiration behind Shrubland.

Christine Harris was Treatment Secretary during the early years – she was a dragon! – but I liked her and she had a wicked sense of humour. Lyn Mann eventually took over from Christine and did a brilliant job of organising chaos. Always calm and diplomatic
with staff and guests, she was perfect in that position – it would have driven me balmy!

Chef, Robert was the hero in the kitchen, producing wonderful fruit and vegetable dishes but it was Val who kept us going with cakes for our birthdays and mince pies at Christmas.

I worked with so many lovely people and met some amazing guests, so I was stunned along with everyone else when it was announced that Shrubland was to close. It was quite unbelievable for such a thing to happen. It meant so much to so many people and is irreplaceable.

However, when it did finally close, I purchased the Caci machine and the Phytomer stock and although I still work part time at Hintlesham Hall, where I’ve been for the past 10 years, I now also work from my home in Bramford giving Caci Face & Body treatments, Phytomer treatments, manicures & pedicures.

Finally, thank you to Andrew for maintaining this website; it is a fitting tribute to such a wonderful place.

Kay Barrett

Andy Markham | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:40:00.001+01:00

Contributed on 4th April 2008
I worked at Shrubland Hall as a Sports Massage Therapist for over three years and although I occasionally complained about the work load, I miss working there, mainly because of the other staff. They really were great.
The saying ,”you never know what you have got until you have lost it” comes to mind.
I will of course write on the site again.

Best wishes,

Andy Markham
MHFST

Vanda Wright | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:39:00.003+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 3rd January 2008

The “Hall” actually was not the most memorable part of my recollection, but the history and grandure of that elegant house will always be with me. Sandra’s father was a truly amazing gardener and the produce from his garden must have impressed even the most worldly gourmand. The treasures that were mine to see were from a day long past, even then. These fabulous treasures, that were kept in the stables, were mementos of a time when Lord de Saumarez was ambassador to China. It was a different world when gifts of the most unusual and exotic kind were given at great receptions. The only place to put such fabulous treasures, at home, was the stables! These were no longer home to the faithful horses but to the cars.

There was no “garage” joining the house but stables, away from the house of course so that no offending odour could be detected from “the drawing room”! And one of the most vivid memories, going to Srubland Hall from Ipswich, was the fog. It was so thick that I had to walk with one hand on the headlight and one foot on the road in order to find the path. What a house! I think of Sandra’s Dad changing a light bulb over a Constable, or dusting the great masters. To think that Admiral Lord Nelson’s lover saw and was impressed by the same things that I saw just had me in a tail-spin!

Vanda Wright

Sara J Szczepanski | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:38:00.000+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 28th February 2008

I am really pleased that this website is available and there is a facility to talk about dear Shrublands. How I miss the gardens, the house, the sheep and the beautiful trees! I miss a lot of the staff and guests too.

I have been lucky in that I have been able to join forces with Shrublands staff and create the “Osalo Detox Health Retreats”. These small residential stays are our version of what worked so well for so many people and for so many years at Shrubland Hall.
Osalo is also found in Ipswich, a beautiful clinic especially for colon hydrotherapy, “Circaroma” organic skin care products and organic face and body treatments.

I hope this website flourishes and lots of ex Shrublanders, both staff and guests/patients will get in touch with one another to share fond memories and past experiences.

More about Sara’s new business www.osalo.co.uk

Sandra Chapman | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:35:00.001+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 28th November 2007

I accidentally discovered today that Shrubland Park had been sold, and I was so saddened by the news. I lived on the estate from about 1953 until 1962. My Father worked there as Maintenance Engineer, and was very much involved in transforming the Hall into the Clinic which it became. I remember often “babysitting” Louisa and the boys when they were about 2-3yrs old, impossible to believe they are now 50, and to discover that Louisa had died.

I noticed that the farewell party had assembled at the Sorrell Horse – in my time a “spit and sawdust” local frequented mainly by farm labourers but also by the cartoonist, Giles, who was a friend of my father. When we first moved to Shrubland, there was an out building behind the stable block where we lived, called the Studio, and it was full of paintings which I believe were done by the old Lords sister ( the old Lord lived in South Africa). There was also a skating rink there too! Now all long gone. At that time too, there was an old horse at the farm, related to the famous Foxhunter. I wonder if anyone remembers that. I also recall the time when a tractor was brought into the orchard to pull down some old trees, and it practically disappeared down a hole, which turned out to be an ice house that everyone had forgotten about.

There used to be a doctor who lived in the Russian Lodge – he was a Consutant at Ipswich Hospital I used to baby-sit for him too! What happened to the Forsdykes who had the Kitchen Gardens for so long, and the Goodings who practically ran the Hall? So many memories, and now it’s all gone.

When I left Shrubland, it was to train as a nurse, and when I went to say goodbye to “Madam” as she liked to be called, she offered me a job on the completion of my training in the clinic if I wanted it. However, things don’t always pan out as you expect them to, and other horizons opened up so of course it never happened. My father though, continued to work there until his death in 1968.

Sandra Chapman (nee Roadknight)

Sandra Chapman’s Photographs
Click on a photo for a larger version

The view from the main hall at Shrubland Hall down towards the garden, also known as the One Hundred Steps, taken in 1978

Shrubland Hall conservatory, taken from a postcard published when the clinic first opened in the 1960s

Sandra Chapman, and Vanda Wright‘s mother Mary

Sandra Chapman in the courtyard at Shrubland Hall

A pre world war one (1909) postcard of Shrubland Hall

Roderick Prime | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:32:00.002+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 10th July 2009

I used to visit Shrubland Park as a young boy in the 50s. My Grandfather was born in one of the row of cottages. His father used to work on the estate, I do not know as what but I used to go there for holidays with my grandparents and remember the water pump outside the cottages and the lovely peace. I used to lie in bed and hear the wood pigeons calling and to this day (I am 60 now) every time I hear a wood pigeon I think of there. I to remember sitting outside the Sorrel Horse with my bottle of Vimto and a packet of crisps. My grandfather and I used to play cricket in the park and I remember the wooden roundhouse that I think at the time was rented to two doctors. At the back of the cottages there were some conifers and the smell when they were damp stays with me to this day. Another thing that takes me back. I remember visiting there a few years ago and the cottages I think had been knocked into one, but still looked the same outside. I loved it there and was my introduction to the beauty of the countryside and all its life. I think I will have to find somewhere I can get Vimto again. I now live in Devon.

Roddy Llewellyn | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:29:00.002+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

(alias Sir Roderic Llewellyn, Bt).

Contributed on 26th January 2009

I remember so well staying at Shrubland – no ‘s’ – when I was about five when the house was lived in by my grandparents. There was swimming in the round pond at the bottom of the 100 steps under Nanny’s watchful eye (Nanny will be 100 this June) and Coggins, the butler, much in evidence in his tail coat. Coggins laughed very easily. My grandfather used to tell funny stories in the dining room and Coggins, in the middle of serving, had to go behind the leather screen in order to subdue his giggles.

My grandparents used to live at broke hall during the summer and Saumarez Park in Guernsey during the winter. Apart from Broke Hall on the Orwell, my grandfather also inherited Livermere Park (now demolished), Nacton and other properties. These estates came into the family via my great grandmother, Jane Broke, who married the 4th Lord de Saumarez. My grandfather bought an enormous house in Grosvenor Square in the early 1930′s for about £8,000 for a 55 year lease so that my mother and my Aunt Vicky could do the debutante season. That end of Grosvenor was flattened during WW11 and I well remember as a little boy seeing the huge spiral staircase stopping short of the vanished ballroom. My grandparents moved to South Africa in the 60′s because of my grandfather’s poor health. He had to have a wounded arm amputated, and his stomach was full of shrapnel, injuries from trench warfare during WW1.

During the War (WW 11) my mother used to have a boyfriend in the Canadian Air force (called Stan, I think) stationed nearby. They arranged a rendezvous one summer’s day. As my mother waved a white handkerchief from the tower he flew around far too low blowing kisses. Unfortunately his plane, that he had ‘borrowed’ without permission from his commander, crashed into one of the Cedars of Lebanon close to the house. Estate workers (the few that were left) rushed out with saucepans, etc, to catch the precious drips of petrol. Stan was killed on a mission shortly after wards. I own a silk handkerchief he gave to my mother, with North Africa printed on one side, and the Mediterranean on the other.

I also well remember my mother telling me of how, during WW11, my mother (then a WREN lorry driver in Portsmouth) was made by my grandmother to weed the garden before breakfast when she was on leave at home! During the war they used to mow the lawns with the help of Suffolk Punch horses pulling an antequated mowing device, with their hooves wrapped in leather, because petrol was so difficult to acquire.
Also I remember her telling me of how she and her sister, my aunt Vicky (the late The Hon. Mrs Llewellen Palmer) used to work regularly in the soup kitchens in a tent in the drive of the Sorrel Horse pub at the bottom of the main drive.

For members of the family, Shrubland lost its soul once it had been turned into a clinic although, as patients, we all marvelled at its beauty. My brother David was recently buried next to my mother in the family plot close to Coddenham church. There, there is a large pink, rough-hewn column of pink granite that my grandmother had imported from Sweden (she was Swedish) for a very sad reason. My Uncle Philip had died after slipping off a rope he was climbing upside down while still at Eton and my grandmother erected this stone in his memory. He is buried there with my mother and several other members of the family. So, we will always be at Shrubland in spirit, and that is a very nice feeling.

Peter Bowler | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:27:00.000+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

My years at Shrubland Park
In late 1938 my father Sidney Bowler (a professional Wisley-trained gardener) secured a position as head gardener at Shrubland Park in Suffolk.

Although in later life he had equally prestigious positions at Luton Hoo, Castle Hill, and Winfield House in Regents Park, I think he always considered this his most rewarding job.

In the sometimes complex hierarchy of the large private estate the Head Gardener was considered equal to the Head Butler in status, but below him in actual prestige, and at the age of 36 my dad was still considered a trifle young for such a position.

I was aged four and a half when we moved into the garden house with dad, mum and two Sisters, Mary and Joan.

My dad headed a staff of (from memory) 10, there would have been a foreman-under –glass, a kitchen garden foreman and a pleasure ground foreman, and the remaining staff would move between departments as required.

Each morning it was my dad’s responsibility to take the day’s produce up to the “Big house”, vegetables, and fruit and, when the owners were in residence—flowers.

He and the cook would then discuss the next day’s menu and requirements.
It was his proud boast that he supplied new potatoes on Christmas day, (there were a few left for us as well!)

The kitchen gardens ran like a well oiled machine, there were hot-houses, warm ones, and cool ones, one had nothing but grapevines, another just melons, all warmed from large coke-fired boilers which never went out, summer or winter.

As the garden round the “Big house” was very formally landscaped I don’t recall that there were herbaceous borders as such, but the parkland being very extensive needed constant attention and tree management, I believe there was separate staff members for this.

In May 1939 I was five, so I started School at Barham, just at the end of a very long drive, almost opposite the Barham Lodge gate, my mother took me there every morning on the carrier of her bicycle, and collected me in the afternoon, people like us didn’t have cars then, but my dad bought an old BSA motor-cycle with a two seater sidecar, and managed to knock down a petrol pump at Rouse’s garage on the Norwich road on his first day out!.

Sometimes on summer evenings we would all walk down to the Sorrel Horse Inn, and us kids would sit outside on the wooden benches and eat the large biscuits that in those days were sold in pubs before bags of crisps replaced them.

Every summer before the war Lord and Lady de Saumarez organised a grand Fête,
The gardens were opened to the general public, and, on the enormous terrace at the rear of the house, from which the grand stone staircase descended, a highland pipe band would march up and down, wearing full ceremonial uniform despite the heat of the midsummer’s day.
In the evening there were fairy lights, music and dancing on the terrace, I remember my friend Frankie (Mayhew) and I thought it all a bit sissy, but then we were quite young!

In September 1939 my family went to Eastbourne for a holiday, and when we were at Eastbourne station to catch the train back to London we saw hundreds of evacuees disembarking from the train from London, war had been declared on the 3rd.

Back in Suffolk dad joined the home guard at Barham, every window in our house was taped up and blackout curtains installed, the “phoney war” had started.

In January 1940 a new sister arrived during a very cold night, named Margaret, we were now five.
Summer came at last and the battle of Britain was raging in the south-east, but we saw little of it where we were, except for a German bomber going over trailing smoke,
We watched it disappear over the treetops, but never knew what happened.

Lord and Lady de Saumarez often entertained groups of tired RAF pilots on short leave from the battle, a little rest, relaxation and a good meal, one of these groups included Douglas Bader, and probably other well known pilots as well, they all looked incredibly young.

Sometime during that year a light aircraft crashed into a tree right in front of the “Big house”, soon the place was swarming with RAF rescue vehicles, we boys were not allowed anywhere near, so again, to this day I don’t know what happened to the crew.

One morning we woke up to see hundreds of soldiers putting up tents in the parkland, The Border regiment had arrived (I think it was the Borders, but I may be wrong),
And we had to get used to sharing Shrubland Park with the army; they were mostly young men first time away from home.
A shooting and hand- grenade range was established in “The Dentlings”, and we lads used to go and pick up bits of shrapnel and cartridge cases when there was no firing.

That Christmas my mother baked a mince pie for every single soldier, and served tea and coffee as well, plus some extras provided by the men’s mess, in a long room in a building behind our house. (I don’t remember what the building was, but I remember that evening), my mother received a lovely letter of thanks from the C/O, I only wish it had survived. (google-earth shows the house and that building still there!)

Due to military call-up, staff levels diminished gradually, both in and out of “the big house”, and I think in the end just caretaking staff remained.

And so in early 1942 my dad’s job came to an end, and we were forced to leave this idyllic place and move to a rented house in Debden Green, where dad found a job at Castle Camps airfield, this was quite a low point in our lives, but things eventually got better!

Comments from the Shrubland Revisited website
Sandra Chapman - 2nd September 2008
Peters’ memories stirred up one or two of mine.I knew about the plane crash, someone gave my Father a ring made out of the perspex windscreen from the wreck. I don’t know what happened to it.
I remember too sitting outside the Sorrel Horse eating those big white biscuits and drinking Vimto. We had a dog which my Father used to shut in a shed opposite the bench we sat on whilst we were there, this dog had a tendency to bite the tyres of cars or bicycles, so was quite a menace. I too went to Barham school,there were about 20 pupils, aged from 5 to 11, and only one teacher. In spite of its limitations, I managed to pass my 11+ there.

I remember the walk to the lodge and main road.It was exactly a mile from our house. When I was about 14 my Father bought me a car that had broken down and been left at the pub (he paid £2.10s for it, it was a Morris 8, series E), he replaced the broken clutch, and I used to drive round the Estate on it, being private property I didn’t need a licence, and there wasn’t much other traffic to hit, so no insurance either. I eventually sold it to a friend for £10 – and they sold it onto an American serviceman based at Bentwaters, and it was eventually shipped to the U.S.A.

Lyn Mann | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:23:00.002+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 10th March 2008

I worked at Shrublands for 29 years in the treatment rooms. I joined the staff straight after finishing my training as a beauty therapist and by the time the Clinic closed I was running the Treatment Rooms and arranging the guests treatment schedules . I really did enjoy my job but I have to say I love my life now. I don’t work as such anymore , I help Sara Szczepanski with her Detox weekends and I look after my husband Michaels accounts (Michael used to teach the exercises at Shrublands and now has his own studio teaching Pilates within the Gilmour Pipers practice in Ipswich.)

I think the thing I miss most is all the people both guests and staff. We are lucky enough to keep up with several members of staff and Michael has some of the guests still coming to his studio .

I hope this site is really successful so we will all be able to keep in touch with each others news .

K Piotrowska | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:21:00.002+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 19th January 2008

I first visited Shrubland Hall in 1987 when I was in desperate need of true relaxation and de-stressing. I had no idea what to expect, having booked sight unseen. The word clinic had connotations of plastic and Formica – a ‘clinical’ atmosphere. What a surprise greeted me after driving up that wonderful drive and having the door opened onto that wonderful staircase. My stay then and in subsequent years was magical. Wonderful staff and treatments, lack of pretention (not having to get dressed up or do anything-wonderful!) Twenty years later I am looking for that magic again, but I doubt whether it can be replicated. If you know of anywhere, please let me know!

Janice Whittle | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:20:00.002+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 28th January 2008

My mother was Elsie Waspe, the fourth of eight children of Frank and Elizabeth Waspe. She married Albert Bone from Witham in 1936. My grandfather, Frank, was woodman on the Shrubland Estate and my mother went into service at the Hall at 14 years old as a scullery maid. She later worked for the Rector of Coddenham Church (Mr Purcel?) and went to Cressage in Shropshire with the family. My aunt, Joan Stockley, was housekeeper to the de Saumarez family for several years.

My grandparents lived in several different places on the estate. During the war my mother was evacuated to her parents’ home with her two sons (David & Eric) and I was born in the front bedroom of the left hand cottage opposite Rouse’s garage (now gone). Later they moved to Honeymoon Cottages. I lived in London but spent most of my school holidays at my grandparents. I would welcome any information about the Waspe family as I am attempting to trace my family tree. I remember Shrubland as a beautiful place but I had never been inside the Hall until the viewing prior to the Sotherby’s sale in September 2006.

I remember Sandra Roadnight!

George Forsdike | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:18:00.000+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Contributed on 3rd March 2008

My wife and I moved to Shrubland in November 1950. This was the start of a very happy period of our lives. My job was in the glasshouses of the market garden department.

A couple of years on the head gardener left and I was given the sole charge of the market garden, the pleasure gardens were to looked after as a seperate unit, this was in the days of Eric’s (Lord de Saumarez ) grandmother.

Soon after the title passed to Eric’s father Victor. When the Hall was to become a Health Clinic the market garden became redundant as the glasshouses were becoming delapidated and a sale was arranged to sell them along with the market garden equipment. This of course left me without a job but I was offered the chance to restore the pleasure gardens to their former glory as they had been badly neglected and needed to be pulled into shape before the opening of the Clinic. This was a job that I enjoyed but I didn’t wan’t to do it long term. Meanwhile the walled garden was being neglected and I suggested to my wife that if we could rent the walled garden we could maybe achieve our secret dream of running our own chrysanthemum nursery. This was an exciting prospect for us when an agreement to rent was reached although my landlord at that time, now Victor ( Lord de Saumarez ) had doubts as to whether we would succeed. To prove all the pundits wrong we were determined to succeed and our venture lasted 41 years uuntil we retired in 1999.

Sandra, who lived in the garage flat when she was a schoolgirl will now know what happened to the Forsdike’s.

Cats and Chrysanthemums

To record my very happy memories of our almost 50 years at Shrubland I wrote an account of our time there. Eric who was now the present ( Lord de Saumarez ) very kindly wrote the foreword for the book which is called ‘Cats & Chrysanthemums’ ISBN 1-898-85-5 available to order at all GOOD bookshops on the print on demand system or from myself at Flat 4, Rosemount, 11 Hamilton Gardens, Felixstowe, IP11 7ET

We were lucky enough to meet many well known people who used to visit us when they came to stay at the clinic. One man in particular, Bryan Izzard, a TV producer used to visit us twice a year, he urged me to write this book, don’t just talk about he said, get on and do it. I lost touch with him before the book was published. Anyone know where he is now?

Mr Brookman and the man who knew all

After reading Janice Whittle’s memories, more names have come to mind.

I remember the Waspe family. Frank worked in the forestry department where a Mr Mackenzie was head forester. Harry Waspe and Bill Smith worked in the market garden when I first went to Shrubland. When I took charge of the market garden I don’t think those two old timers took to kindly to taking orders from a comparative youngster. Ernie Waspe was the village postman, so punctual on his round that you could tell the time by him. About that time there was a Charlie Mayhew who worked with a horse and cart keeping the estate clear of rubbish and who remembers Fred Puncher, the chauffeur. The butler’s name I think was Brookman and the cook whose name for the moment escapes me, she died three or four years ago aged 100. The farm manager around that time was a Mr Geater.

The Sorrel Horse pub opposite the main entrance to the park was a favourite place with the employees of Shrubland, a real spit and sawdust pub as Sandra described it.

Old Tom was the landlord, he was a mine of information, what he didn’t know wasn’t worth knowing. How things have changed over the last 50 Years.

I hope this will jog the memories of some of the people who knew us and the pictures will remind people of what went on within the walled garden

George Forsdike

Update 7th March 2008

I have now remembered the name of the cook, she was a Mrs Horton I have also discovered that Bryan Izzard, the TV Producer who used to visit us when he stayed at the clinic, died on the 27th April 2006.

George Forsdike’s Photographs

Click on a photo for a larger version

Deborah Priest & Joan Johnson (sisters) | Memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:11:00.000+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

Our great aunt Alice Horton was married to Alfred Horton who was a game keeper on the Shrubland Estate and we believe she was a house keeper there also. She lived in one of the lodges until she died age 106 years. We visited her there as children around the mid 60s to 70s with our father Russell Clark her nephew. We have some pictures of the lodge and grounds although we never went into the Hall. Would be interested if anyone remembers her?

Comments from the Shrubland Revisted website:
George Forsdike says:
August 14, 2010 at 6:08 pm
Hi Deborah and Joan
When my wife and I moved to Shrubland in 1950 I remember a Mrs Horton who was the cook, maybe cook/housekeeper. She was a widow and I remember a man named Horton being mentioned in conversation, I thought he was a previous head gardener, I can’t get in touch at the moment with the person who maybe able to tell me. The Mrs Horton I knew, I believe she died at the age of 100+ in a nursing home in Stowmarket.
George Forsdike

Deborah says:
August 15, 2010 at 11:34 am
Hello George, thank you so much for your response re our great aunt Alice. I’m sure this is probably the same Mr and Mrs Horton, we only have vague info regards their jobs etc as we were only young adults when visiting The Lodge where Alice lived. We will check out the extra info supplied by you and try and add an update shortly. We will also upload a photo or two once we find them too. Thank you once again, so very interesting.
Regards
Deborah

Colin says:
May 16, 2011 at 12:24 pm
I used to visit my Great Aunt Alice in the 70s with my Parents. Of which my mum Hilda Simmonds was her niece. Daisy Simmonds being a sister to Alice and Hilda’s mother.
Regards
Colin

Shrubland Hall Revisited | April 2006 to July 2011

2011-07-02T17:07:00.017+01:00

Shrubland Revisited was a website that I set up for my wife and other ex-employees of the Shrublands estate near Ipswich in Suffolk after Lord de Saumarez announced the closure of the clinic on April 2nd 2006. Several past members of staff and residents sent me their 'memories' of Shrubland Hall, and I have archived these on this blog. To read Shrubland memories please click the links at the foot of this post.

NOTE - the domain names shrublandhall.co.uk and shrublandhall.com are currently for sale, if you are interested in buying them from me please contact me here - http://www.andrewlaws.com/contact-me

Shrubland Hall Revisited
Shrubland Hall in Suffolk was open for nearly 40 years as a high class Health Clinic but sadly closed on the 2nd April 2006 due to the owner Lord de Saumarez being forced to sell his estate to settle death duties (tax) as a result of the death of his mother.

A staggering 60,000 guests have stayed at Shrubland Hall Clinic over the last forty years and around 2000 members of staff have worked there.

Shrubland Revisited was a website for all guests and staff that have known and loved this unique estate. We were collecting ‘memories’ and photographs of Shrubland Estate.

PLEASE NOTE:
This site was not in any way connected to the Shrubland Hall Clinic or the de Saumarez family, we have no contact with the the de Saumarez family. We are unable to answer questions about the clinic or his Lordship’s family, bar any information provided by our visitors that is already on this blog. Sorry!

We are also not connected in any way with the current (new) owners of of Shrubland Hall and can’t answer any questions about the future of the hall or gardens!

Shrubland Hall Memories
Andy Markham
Deborah Priest & Joan Johnson (sisters)
George Forsdike
Janice Whittle
K Piotrowska
Kay Barrett
Lyn Mann
Peter Bowler
Roddy Llewellyn
Roderick Prime
Sandra Chapman
Sara J Szczepanski
Stephanie Thomas
Vanda Wright

Please feel free to submit your own memories by posted them in the comments area below.

Thanks to everyone who contributed over the years!

Stephanie Thomas's memories of Shrubland Hall

2011-07-02T17:05:00.002+01:00

An archived post from the (now-defunct) Shrubland Revisited website...

I started work at Shrubland Hall as a Receptionist in approx 1981.

Mrs Smith was the Manager and other staff in the reception were Molly Kerry (who I am still in contact with),Mrs /Fayers, Margaret Peacock. Shifts 9 – 3 and 3 – 10 Reception days – Mon & wed
Lord de Saumarez had his office in the Reception Office which was also the library. It was interesting being on the evening shift as the guests would come into the library and spend time talking to us.
Mrs Betty Bacon was secretary to Lady Julia de Saumarez

Mrs Gooding was the Housekeeper

Jane Blackburn was manager of Light Diet & was also cataloguing the Archives

Sister Waters was the resident nurse and Dr Boag was a manipulative physician.

Dr Boag lived in the Russian Lodge halfway down the drive, later it was used as an additional room for guests.

Joan Stone – Treatment Secretary

Most of these staff lived on the estate, I lived in Bramford.

We met a lot of interest and distinguished guests, however he highlight of our employment was the occasion on Louisa de Saumarez’s wedding. The house looked magnificent and the wedding took place in Coddenham church, the reception was held afterwards in Shrublands. We (the staff) lined up with the family to greet family members and staff and were then assigned the task of looking after guests and serving food and drinks. It was a fabulous wedding and was featured in Bride’s magazine ( I still have a copy)

The Sorrel Horse at the bottom of the drive was a popular place for patients to disappear off to for forbidden drinks etc ?!

Victor and Eric were latterly involved in the running of the estate.

I remember the Turkish baths being installed after Lord & Lady de Saumarez had purchased a Turkish gilet for holidays and brought back Turkish tiles for the baths.

I was at Shrublands for approx 4 years. During this time my son was very ill with asthma and Lady de Saumarez very kindly arranged for him to visit her homeopathic doctor in Harley Street. This was a very generous gesture and much appreciated.

I enjoyed my time at Shrublands, I made a lot of friends and met many interesting guests.

Web Care Takers - February 2002 to July 2011

2011-07-01T17:21:00.004+01:00

In 2002 (after a couple of years working as a network admin/ general IT consultant followed by two years working in London as a website controller) I decided to go it alone and started working for myself using Web Care Takers as my trading name.

Nearly ten years (and almost exactly 1000 invoices) later I have decided to take my career in an entirely new direction, and from 31st July 2011 Web Care Takers will cease operating. I will no longer be working in the field of web/ IT/ photography.

I've had a great time running and have (mostly) relished the incredibly hard work that Web Care Takers represented. Some challenges have been harder to overcome than others (like being hacked, the government's ludicrous habit of charging sole-traders in advance for tax, and not least a railway system that made being on time for anything a frustratingly expensive impossibility), but on the whole I've got to admit that everyone I've dealt with has been wonderful.

So finally I'd like to say an incredibly large THANKS to those who matter, and you know who you are!


October 2002

September 2003

January 2006

February 2008

So long, and thanks for all the fish!

P.S My new role will be Sales and Marketing Manager for Universal Converting Equipment LTD, who make (among other things) very cool slitter rewinder machines.

Popular culture is not what popular culture was.

2011-06-02T11:43:00.000+01:00

Guest post by Sam Page.

“We’re Not the Radio Movement, Every Station needs a Good Tuning.”*

In the first chapter of his book, Listen to This, the New Yorker music journalist Alex Ross describes a process of how classical music became insular, how it stopped being relevant and connected to the mass public consciousness. He referred to the process as “the sacralzation of music” and “the fetishizing of the past”:

“Classical music began to take on cultlike aspects. The written score became a sacred object; improvisation was gradually phased out. Concert halls grew quiet and reserved, habits and attire formal.”

This morning (2 June 2011) BBC Radio4’s Today programme - not the first place many would look for an argument on the ‘hip’ and the ‘cool’ - featured the brief discussion on if “retromania” was “stifling pop culture?” Simon Reynolds, the author of Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to its Own Past, arguing it was; someone else putting forth the suggestion that genres like grime are keeping pop music fresh. And does seem today that the 80s is more popular than ever, and the bands selling the biggest number of gig tickets are reconstituted ones. However, a key feature missed in the argument was the idea of the popular base.

Since the advent of the mass internet and mp3s, there has been an endless stream of articles about the decline in music sales. Major labels whine on and on, in a seemingly never ceaseless plea for someone to please buy the bile they decided to sign between a coke binge and sexually abusing sea life. However, the BPI recorded in 2009 that 116 (digital) million singles were sold in the UK, compared to 2002’s 43.9m (physical) singles (2002 has been cited as a high point for CD sales). Digital singles were up last year, too.

Sam Page pondering music in Copenhagen

The key difference is arguably how it is sold and how much money the record companies make. The Guardian reported in 2009 that Florence and the Machine’s Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) sold a total of 64 (physical) copies to make it to the chart position of 16. Something that is quite shocking, and quite contrasting the above overall figure. Florence and the Machine headlined a few festivals that summer, and remain a popular band. On the other side of the scale, Eminem’s Love the Way You Lie, featuring the umbrella salesperson Rhianna, sold 840,000 (digital) copies in 2010. The scale of what can be called popular music today is very, very steep.

While there is evidently still room for mass-appeal in music, the internet has radically changed things. Frequent complaints can be heard about the state of music today: two friends have both said the one good thing the Tory’s can do is bring back is angry music in popular consciousness. Crufts-like music shows like the X-Factor seem to make and break who is the popular consciousness. However, the legendry sludge band the Melvins made it into the US Billboard top 200 for the first time in their 26 year career with their 19th (bloody excellent) album “The Bride Screamed Murder.” It is not their biggest selling album. However, this begs the question: why are we discussing what is popular” rather than what does popular mean today?

“What I refuse to accept is that one kind of music soothes the mind and another kind soothes the soul. It depends on whose mind, whose soul.” (Alex Ross, Listen to This)

The internet is an amazing tool, even if Adam Curtis is probably right in his cynical attitude towards it. The diversity and the possibility of the net has thrown popular music into turmoil, and this has been evident for a while now. For those who thrive on “underground” music, the internet has been wonderful in many ways. Never before can we access as many bands, musicians and ideas if we want to. A little searching can reveal a global, healthy, vibrant, interesting, realm of music that is well rounded as you want to make it. While the old hands still create what is popular, we can now live the genuine possibility of a blissful existence, away from BBC Radio1 and all its bile. The internet has bought around the idea of the possibility, if not actuality, of picking and choosing to the variety one likes. Arguably, what it reveals for mostly is the illusion of choice.

Simon Reynolds seems to be observing the invention of a tradition: reinventing the past as we pick from it. However, what is popular culture is not what popular culture was. And, what is playing in the charts does arguably not reflect is playing on people’s ipods. Ultimately, we need to stop talking of “Popular” music and “Underground” music, or of any fixed genres. If we carry on treating music the way we are, there’s a fair-to-good chance that the music of today will come to resemble the world of “classical” music. We need to stop talking of popular music, and start listening to music again, to remember it is more than a commodity to be sold. It is music.

---
* Da Skywalkers, “Radio Movement,” Heartache & Scars (Household Name, 2004):

** Sam did not listen to music while he wrote this. He needed to concentrate. Otherwise, he has currently not filed away the copies of works by Charles Mingus, Nas, Slade, Roxy Music, Between the Buried and Me, Mike Watt, Prince, Marnie Stern, Hella, The Pogues, Faces, Tera Melos, Queen, Big Boi, Three Trapped Tigers, Death Grips, Ice Cube, Freestyle Fellowship, The Arteries, and Charming Hostess.

*** Follow him on twitter at http://www.twitter.com/dktd

How I was hacked, and how justice was done.

2011-05-16T14:03:00.017+01:00

Two years ago my web-hosting business was annihilated by a malicious hacker, and as a result was out of action for a considerable amount of time. This happened after a period of extreme 'hardening' (securing) activity had been carried out by myself and my infrastructure providers. At the time I tried to explain to my clients just how extraordinary this attack was in light of the phenomenal efforts (and not to mention hours) I had put in tightening the security on the server. The impact of this attack was exasserabated by a mocking email I received at the time of the final attack from the lead attacker - a person calling himself 'Colonel Root'.

This attack was viewed as particularly grave by the Metropolitan Police e-crime unit and as a result they launched an intensive investigation. Last Friday as a direct result of the evidence we were able to gather following my own fast thinking (in shutting down the server), and as a result of the remarkable work carried out by The Metropolitan Police two individuals (Zachary Woodham and Louis Tobenhouse) were sentenced for this crime.

This attack severely damaged my professional reputation and directly led to me having to give up my hosting business. In addition to the financial impact this attack had the complex loss of service that it caused also irrevocably damaged some very long standing relationships I had with clients.

Now that this horrid case has reached a conclusion I owe a huge debt of thanks to the astoundingly understanding and dedicated team at The Metropolitan Police Central e-crime unit, my infrastructure provider (who was taking a well-earned break after recovering from cancer at the time of the attack) and also to a business associate who kindly put me in touch with a world-leading security industry expert who was able to assist me in gathering the evidence needed to bring these criminals to justice. You know who you are, and I am forever in your debt. I am also extremely grateful to clients who assisted in this investigation by being willing to give statements to the police.

The Metropolitan police have issued an official statement on the conclusion to this long and difficult case on their website -
http://content.met.police.uk/News/Teenage-internet-hackers-prosecuted/1260268939286/1257246745756

There is no victory to be had here, the last two years have been horrific and deeply upsetting on many levels, and I sincerely wish the entire episode had never happened. I was (and still am) a stranger to my attackers, this was a vicious and malevolent crime that appears to have been motivated purely by random malice. That being said I am pleased that Zachary Woodham and Louis Tobenhouse will not be going to prison; instead they have been given an opportunity (via their community service orders) to do something positive and constructive.

Cyber crime is grossly damaging British business, and it is encouraging to knew that The Central E-crime unit are hot on the heels of those who wish to destroy the hard work of companies who ultimately are just trying to get by in the current difficult climate.

Part of the evidence/ witness statement used in court was this blog post written a few months after the attack - http://lawsie.blogspot.com/2009/08/to-you-hacker-my-attacker.html

Press coverage

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/
http://nationalcybersecurity.net/
Police Specials
TechWorld
Ping Zine
The Mirror
The Register (the best coverage in my opinion)
Naked Security
CSO
Mac World
Sophos
Softpedia
The Inquirer
Computer World
Web Host Industry Review
PCR
in audit
IT Pro
The Brighton Argus
SC Magazine
Help Net security
IT Pro portal
eWeek

NOTE - I would like to make it clear that while my involvement with PunkyHosting.com came to an end it is still very much a going concern.

For those about to rock, we pray for you.

2011-05-15T12:45:00.000+01:00

Me, a few years before my first gig.

Originally published in ‘Lights Go Out’ issue 11, February 2011

Whenever folk talk about the first gig they went to it is assumed (by them) that they'll earn extra points if it was either a very obscure and musically challenging underground act, or if the first band they saw went on to become global megastars. Now I certainly don't think I'm cool, but I could tell you with some truth that the first gig I ever went to was Blur at the Corn Exchange in Ipswich in mid 1991. It's certainly true that Blur had just released their second single 'There's No Other Way', and it's undeniable that they went on to a be global megastars, but it wouldn't be truthful of me to tell you that it really was my first ever gig. You see, my first ever gig was really rather different to that early glimpse of four lads from Colchester who would go on to fame and riches...

I've never made any secret of the fact that I was raised Church of England, and when I say that I mean it in a quite literal sense. The church that my parents dragged me to every Sunday was a village church and had a fairly robust large congregation of cheerful, friendly and supportive folk. There were always loads of other kids around and it may be a cliché, but it really was like growing up with an enormous family. At the time I couldn't understand why most of my friends at school didn't have two or three hundred aunties and uncles like I did. I don't want to give you the impression that the church was anything like a cult, it was just a huge bunch of very friendly and supportive people, and one that I feel very lucky to have grown up with.

But life in a progressive modern happy clappy church didn't only involve sitting in a medieval building singing along to electric guitars, excitable drumming and watching people holding their hands in the air like they were waiting for someone to throw them an apple, oh no, sometimes we went to other places to hear electric guitars, excitable drumming and to watch people hold their hands in the air like they were waiting for someone to throw them an apple. And sometimes these events were disguised as rock concerts.

The first gig I ever went to was at The Spa Pavilion in Felixstowe, to watch a band called 'White Harvest'. Despite having (what in retrospect is) a name that makes them sound like a cross between the Countryside Alliance and the British National Party they were in fact a Christian rock band. The only thing I can remember about the band was that the drummer was a very nice man from our church called Neville, and that the singer was wearing a Bacofoil jumpsuit. I hated it, and not just the Bacofoil I hated everything about that gig.

After much complaining (mine mostly) my dad aided my escape (so some of the complaining may have been his) and we went for a nice wander down Felixstowe promenade to have a look at the arcade machines in the recently opened Felixstowe leisure centre. If you're the sort of person who likes facts you might be interested to know that this gig was in 1985, which means I was nine years old.

But as far as whether I think anyone's first gig is cool or not, well that's a bit subjective isn't it. I can't say that anything would excite me more than someone telling me that the first gig they attended was in a pub, and if they told me that pub gig inspired them to pick up an instrument and start creating music of them own then I'd almost definitely think they're cool.

P.S I rang my dad to get the date that Felixstowe leisure centre opened and he denies all memory of this gig ever happening, but being the supporting type of lad that he is he told me not to let facts get in the way of a good story.

The bad idea bike ride - a post mortem.

2011-05-04T16:42:00.000+01:00

About a month ago Mark Schorah and I decided that cycling ninety miles from Ipswich to Haverhill and back in aid of The Red Cross sounded like a good idea, so I hopped on my bike and was horrified that I could only go about four miles without getting a pounding headache and seeing flashing lights in front of my eyes. If you want to know more about why we committed to this very bad idea look here - http://lawsie.blogspot.com/2011/04/born-to-ride-pensively-prepared-for.html

Much against everyone's advice Mark (a.k.a 'Trumpet') and I took off from Ipswich at about 8am yesterday and cycled to Haverhill and back. But we had a problem, and that problem was that we'd only racked up about 75 miles, so we cycled through Ipswich and out the other side until we reached Martlesham Heath.

We both hurt like hell today, but the important thing is that we did it, and we raised a lot more money for the red cross than we expected to! I'm personally quite proud that I managed to keep pace with Mark despite the fact he's young enough that (biologically speaking) I could be his father.

If you would like to know more about how this epic ride went then why not watch this short video:

It's still not too late to donate some money, and if you do so online (and you're a UK taxpayer) the government will add a little something extra to your donation at no cost to you!

TMI! Five things you probably don't need to know about me!

2011-04-27T14:57:00.002+01:00

I have been running this blog and writing in zines for nearly a third of my life and very little about me has remained a secret, yet it occurs to me that there's probably still a lot of useless information I can dredge up from the depths for purposes of bewilderment fuelled entertainment. So in the interests of 'what the hell' and 'gawd knows why mister' here are five facts about me written in a style that straddles itself awkwardly between self-effacing and apologetically self promotional.

Too much information!

I am fluent in sign language. Sort of...
For a few years I had a job in residential care providing support for adults with learning disabilities. Somehow I ended up working with folk with 'challenging' behaviour, including a deaf autistic chap, and that's why one my colleagues was a very lovely deaf middle-aged chap called Robin. Robin refused to admit that he could lip-read and wouldn't talk to me unless I signed to him, so I had no choice but to learn British sign language very quickly indeed. I say I am 'sort of' fluent because I haven't had to use sign for quite a while, but after a few minutes of chatty signing it usually comes flooding back to me.
I was a pre-teen gymlast
My memory is a bit hazy on this one, but I do know that it happened because I still have my merit badges. I also remember that one day I suddenly noticed that I was the only boy attending the training sessions.
I was nearly a nurse
When I was fifteen I knew beyond all doubt that I was going to make my living either as a musician or a writer, so when the school career's advisor asked me what career I was aiming for I told her music (because somehow that seemed less cocky than declaring I would be a writer). The career's advisor said something along the lines of 'no, what do you really want to do?', I reassured her that I would be playing my bass guitar in exchange for vittles, she disagreed and that's how I ended up doing a BTEC ND in science (Health Studies), which is the fast-track to becoming a nurse. But it wasn't all bad news - I was the only male on a fifty strong course...
Some of the people I refer to as family members are not family members.
Because, well, some folk are so much more than friends aren't they? Case in point is Graham (a.k.a @GrumBirky), who was born on the same day as me, was my best man and has lived in the same house (or just a few doors away) for the whole of the fifteen years that I've known him. My mum hated the idea that Graham's own mum lived many miles away so she 'adopted' him properly into our family; he IS my brother!
I'm not as tall as I thought I was.
Until yesterday I thought I was 6' 2" tall, but it turns out that I'm only 6'. Maybe I'm shrinking?

P.S This post was inspired by one I read over here - http://generationwhynot-stupidgirl.blogspot.com/

Me on the BBC!

2011-04-15T11:23:00.003+01:00

Tonight (15/04/11) at 7pm I will be part of a takeover of the brilliant 'BBC Introducing' show on BBC Suffolk. Along with Martyn and Jason from Antigen records I'll be talking about the mammoth 'The Ugly Truth About Ipswich' compilation album that we're jointing putting out soon.

The Ugly Truth About Ipswich is an album that documents the gloriously creative Ipswich music scene over the last thirty five years. I'll be making a more comprehensive blog post about this epic project, but for now I'd recommend you listen to tonight's show. The album has really broad appeal (and has some very famous folk on it) so don't go assuming that just because you're not from Ipswich* this won't be fascinating!

I think we're going to try and play the entire album tonight, which (if nothing else) will mean some very interesting edits of the riper language that pops up in some of the tracks.

Listen online at BBC Suffolk....

The Ugly Truth About Ipswich Facebook page...

Antigen Records...

*Being pedantic I'm not from Ipswich myself, I grew up in Wickham Market.

Update 16/04/11
A podcast of last night's show will be available on the BBC Suffolk site for the next thirty days http://www.bbc.co.uk/podcasts/series/bbcsi

Crossing paths.

2011-04-14T10:53:00.001+01:00

I think I heard his bottle chink as it bounced off a stone in the footpath, but the grind of my rusty chain makes a similar noise, so maybe not. I slowly rolled round the bend in the path and when I first saw him slumped on the ground I thought he was leaning to let me pass; the river is stagnant and foul on that stretch just before the weir, so I slowed to thank him for being considerate, and that's when I saw how desperate he looked.

The bottle I thought I'd heard hit the ground was laying a few feet further down the path; the final drops escaping into the hard trodden dried mud.

"Are you alright mate?"

His head lolled as he looked around himself; as if he was trying to still his thoughts enough to find an answer. I repeated myself and his head tipped back as he stared up at me, apparently only now aware of my considerable bulk standing in front of him. He splayed his hands out as he searched for, and then clung loosely onto his knees.

I looked back down the footpath behind me, hoping that 'she' wasn't about to walk around the corner. I didn't have time for this, but fuck; I can't just leave a fellow human in need?

Can I?

"You sure you're alright mate?"

He worried his knees with slow moving blackened fingers and fought the words as they came, delaying them, trying to hold them in, but after a long sigh they beat him and he muttered,

"Move along..." One of his hands slipped off his knee, and his head fell forward to stare at the dirt in front of his feet.

So I did what he asked me to; I moved on.

About a hundred yards down the path I took a last look over my shoulder and he hadn't moved. I really wanted to help, but I guess he'd already escaped whatever hell was hounding him, and I was still trying to escape mine on my bike.

Burritos on Bishopsgate - Wrap It Up

2011-04-12T08:32:00.001+01:00

I've always been a fan of food in tortilla wraps and since trying a proper burrito while on a writing trip to the states a couple of years ago I've been on the hunt for something similar in this country. My first proper burrito came from a place called Gordito Burrito in Rhode Island, and as sad as it might sound one of the things I miss most about being in America is how easy it is to find an edible burrito.

Good times in Gordito Burrito
(no, that isn't me).

As marvellous as the cosmopolitan cuisine of this country is we don't appear to be able to get our act together when it comes to making a decent burrito - most burritos I've had in the UK have been either poncey miniscule restaurants efforts swamped in gravy, or extortionately priced tough tubes crammed full of god-knows-what at festivals.

I've had some nearly commendable burritos in places like Camden, but when compared to the fat, warm, yielding, fresh and healthy (yes - healthy) burritos I had in America the burritos I've eaten in my home country have been a poor imitation of what this fantastic food should be. As I'm sure you've gathered by now I adore burritos, so making do with these poor imitators was the culinary equivalent of being a big fan of the Mona Lisa but making do with a biro scribble of an dead rat on the back of a discarded cigarette packet.

Wrap It Up.
When I found a new burrito place opposite Liverpool Street station (on Bishopsgate) I knew I owed it to myself to continue my search for a well made burrito. As soon as I had walked through the door it was clear that I might have found my burrito Shangri-la - the place was light, airy and well lit, the total opposite of the British burrito places I'd been before. The staff were super friendly and 'shock'; they appear to actually enjoy their jobs! The guacamole was zesty, the rice was tender, the black beans were tasty and the portions were generous (to say the least). I was actually a little surprised when the cheery chap behind the till told me how cheap my meal was!

I don't profess to be an expert on every food joint in London town (and I'm sure there are other great burrito places) but I do know enough that I now seem unable to walk past Wrap It Up without popping in to buy something. Hell; the fact that I'm currently the Mayor of Wrap It Up on Foursquare (despite the fact I only visit London once a week) should give you an idea of the high regard I have for this burrito joint!

Related links
Wrap It Up...
My review of Gordito Burrito...
Photos from my trip to America...

First impressions count (as weird).

2011-04-11T21:48:00.003+01:00

This tub has something to do with
us needing a new cooker...

I guess you could call this post a fictionalised account of real life events, although I suppose telling you at the outset that this isn’t a true representation of how the following occurred might take the shine out of it. Hmm; please can you try and forget that you’ve read this intro and skip onto the metaphorical main course of this post…

The first time I meet someone new* I always say or do something really odd. I’m going to keep my musical life out of this post because the lycra we wore on stage for a while in my old band gave a lot of people (in audiences) a very strange first impression of me, and was more revealing of my anatomy than my personality.

Today was a fairly normal day and yet I still managed to make at least a couple of first impressions that may or may not be worth reporting (you’re the judge, not me). Both of these incidents occurred while I was trying to replace our knackered old cooker - my wife was out doing what gardeners do whenever they’re gardening and for reasons I won’t embarrass myself by sharing with you it was imperative to replace the cooker before she returned to roost. Time was short so I employed the cheerful assistance of my terminally unemployed buddy Jonny Culture (no relation other than the fact he has the surname culture for the same reason I do).

Breeding white goods.

Out with the old...

Before a new cooker could be warmly welcomed (yes that is a pun, poor as it may be, please tut, sigh disapprovingly and move on) into our home the old shamed cooker needed to be frowned at, grunted over and cast into the back of (my fake brother) Graham’s van for it’s final journey.

Jonny and I were halfway through the grunting part of the casting out process (trying to summon strength from our weak bodies to slide the cooker into the van) when my fake brother’s new lodger made a surprise appearance on the scene. Most of the surprise was his, because from where he was stood our ‘thrusting motion’ was creating the impression that Jonny and I were trying to do something to the cooker that nature never intended and God would almost certainly disapprove of. The exchange that followed went a little something like this,

“Hello Chris…. You must be Chris!” The look on his face appeared to be more a reaction to the scene than the lines of the players. He offered no reply so I doubled the effort being made on my side of the conversation,

“Chris? Graham’s new lodger?” Jonny stood back from the van and rested against the wall of my house; he’s known me long enough to be aware that these types of exchanges can take some time, and he’s also a great fan of leaning on things. There was still no reply so I continued to dig upwards out of the hole I had found myself in,

“This is Graham’s van!” Yeah, I know that outburst wasn’t going to help, and in the awkward conversation that followed I also found out that calling Graham’s new lodger ‘Chris’ didn’t help either, on account of his name being Danny.

Danny took my introduction with the sort of good humour an adult might show a young child who is telling a rambling pointless story (a bit like this one), and as soon as etiquette allowed he escaped, leaving me free to travel across down to make my second odd first impression of the day…

...in with the also old.

Searching for humour and finding mild offence.
The charming sun-dried lady in the second-hand white goods place where I bought the new cooker was a genuine delight; she was friendly, engaging, keen to part me with my cash and had a laugh like a heavy smoking hippo. The impression I made on her deserves less wordage, because unless she’s sold me a shocker I very much hope that by the next time I see her time will have eroded her memory of the brief conversation we had at the climax of our transaction,

“Ere love, oi needcha address and foe-warn number.” I told her the first line of my address, she asked me spell it so I did, and carefully enunciated every one of the seven letters. She carved the details onto the receipt and continued,

“Whatsha powast cowed?”

“Would you like me to spell that for you as well?” She looked up and me, widened her eyes a little and stood perfectly still for long enough for several tens of heartbeats. A gust of wind blew past us and made a gentle whistling noise as it passed between her ears, and then she replied,

“Well that’s not very nice is it…”

The thing is, I really wasn’t trying to be rude; among other friends (and I dare say in my meandering writings) that line would have passed as humour!

So there you have it – I make odd first impressions, and I doubt that I’ll ever change, and I’m not sure I want to. The positive aspect of making odd first impressions is that it really helps people remember who you are, and the next time they see you if they avoid you then it’s their loss, and if they make a beeline for you then you’ve made a new friend.

*In person, although to be honest I probably come across just as batty online, but in smaller more focussed doses.

The Computers - Music is Dead

2011-04-09T11:07:00.003+01:00

CDEP - One Little Indian Records

Starting off like a seriously dirty version of psychobilly the title track of this E.P totally changes tone when the vocals kick in - sure there's yelling, but it's damn cool yelling that sits nicely in with the music rather than overpowering it. The vocals aren't as harsh as Ghost of a Thousand and yet somehow more guttural than The Refused.

The second track 'Burning Love' has broader appeal and is a toe-tapping bruiser of a song that is almost bubblegum pop. As I sit down to review this E.P the sun is shinning and I've got a weekend full of fun ahead of me; this song just kinda feels right for this sort of summery optimistic mood.

I don't often like to talk about production when reviewing bands (on account of it usually meaning more to bands than punters) but the tonal quality of this recording is astounding, whoever mastered this disc deserves every penny they got paid!

While The Computers are undeniably punk rock there's a strong Rock and Roll after taste, and it's a damned tasty part of this musical meal. If you like bands like The Shitty Limits and Fucked Up then The Computers deserve a place on your shopping list next time you shove your hand in your pocket to enrich your life with another music purchase.

http://www.myspace.com/thisisthecomputers

Born to ride, pensively prepared for pain - a sponsored bike ride.

2011-04-07T12:45:00.007+01:00

Mark Schorah and Andrew Laws get saddle-sore for charity.
Mark and I are band mates in a band called 'These Are End Times'; I play bass and Mark plays trumpet (because he is a real musician). Last year one of the string-flingers (guitarists) in our band (a fella called Martyn Peck) impressed us by doing a proper long stroll to raise cash for The Red Cross.

At the end of his epic walk Mark and I met Martyn in the pub to offer congratulations (and beer). Last year Martyn walked from The Dove Street Inn in Ipswich to Felixstowe and back again, this year he's upping the ante somewhat by walking from Haverhill to The Nelson in Ipswich, which is a sole-destroying forty five miles!

Mark and I were so inspired by Martyn's pluck that we decided to do something similar to raise a some cash for Red Cross.

At first our plans involved only the pub part of at the end of Martyn' sponsored strut, but finding people to sponsor Mark and I to drink beer in a pub would be a non-starter because we often do that for free. We soon realised that we should exploit the fact that our friends like to see us suffer, and therefore should attempt some sort of physical feat in order to encourage friends and family to pony up the dough, and that's when we came up with....

Mark and Andrew's big bike blowout!
On the 3rd May 2011 at the same time in the morning that Martyn leaves Haverhill Mark and I will leave The Nelson on our bikes, we will attempt to ride to Martyn's starting point in Haverhill, and then (and this is where the 'blowout' part is likely to happen) we're going to try and ride all the way back to The Nelson in Ipswich - that's ninety miles!

In preparation for this foolish feat I have started training on my mountain bike (to increase my saddle stamina), and Mark has prepared by fitted a brake to his single-gear racer (a bike that is older than he is).

I don't think I need too tell you why The Red Cross needs more money than ever before, and if you sponsor this mad bike ride you will be doing a truly great thing. Please take a moment to dontate; even tiny amounts make a huge difference to those in need.

Update - 04/05/11
We did it! Find out more here - http://lawsie.blogspot.com/2011/05/bad-idea-bike-ride-post-mortem.html

How to give a cat a pill

2011-04-05T10:59:00.001+01:00

I was recently going through some of the old source files for Beat Motel zine and found this graphic I made for issue #04, so in the interests of recycling and beating the climate crunch I thought I'd post it here:

P.S. This comes from an issue of Beat Motel that was published in January 2006, and I have no idea if I wrote this or not (probably not), so if this is yours then get in touch so I can give credit!

Geek night - LIVE! Come join us!

2011-03-26T11:52:00.003Z

Tonight I've got a bunch of creative mates coming round to celebrate the fact we'll all a bit, well, 'geeky'. Another reason for this get-together is so that we can share the wonderful world of blogging and Twitter with the one of us (who shall remain nameless) who is a bit new to the whole concept.

Here's where you come in...
We'll be surfing the web looking for cool creative related content and talking about music, writing, photography and anything else that pops up. One of us will probably launch a new blog tonight, so hang around if you want to be one of the first to see it!

We want Geek Night to involve as many people as possible, and that means we want YOU to get involved, and here's how:

Watch us via the live camera*
You'll have to follow the instructions in the cam window to view the live camera.
Comment on this blog post
Chat to us on twitter
Use the hash tag #GeekNight on twitter to get our attention

Tonight's Geek Night Guests:

Jenny May
@jennymaywrites
- Writer, musician, artist
Ilona
@loneyjane
Musician, photographer, English language goddess
Graham Birks
@grumbirky
Photographer, Cartoonist, web dev
Andrew Culture (me!)
@andrew_culture
Writer, Photographer, Musician, web dev

Also floating in and out will be my wife; the gorgeous gardener @emma_culture

We're getting together about 7pm GMT and gawd knows how long we'll be going for, I guess that partly depends on how much wine we consume!

*if you're reading this before or after Geek night then there will be no live camera, although I'm not really sure I need to spell that out!

Celebrating Anglicisms!

2011-03-25T16:01:00.000Z

The quote about Lemmy also made me laugh!

A while ago I wrote a post in defence of the use of Americanisms in writing, but now I'm wondering if I need to post in favour of Anglicism's to prove that cool colloquialisms transcend nationalism.

This morning I found a review of my zine (Beat Motel) in an American zine called Razorcake, and they liked a very English line from my current issue so much they used it on their contents page, and here's why I think that being quoted in this way is cool as hell: The world of zines is very different to the traditional publishing world (and even the 'self-published' world) because it doesn't adhere to any rules - if you want to throw something at the world you damn well go ahead and do it regardless of gross grammatical incompetence, good taste (or even correct spelling), and this incredibly open world celebrates individuality, especially when it comes to the way creatives use language.

At this stage in my (ahem) 'writing career' I have been published many more times in zines than I have been in what might be considered the mainstream, and a consistent thread that runs through most of the reviews I've had from American titles is a celebration of just how English my writing is. Actually 'celebration' is probably a bit strong, but the colloquial nature of my language in the zines I write (and write for) is often mentioned in a positive way, in fact I've had a few reviews that only talk about how 'crazy English' my writing in zines is.

The writing style I use in zines is very different to the tone and voice I use in fiction writing, which in turn is very different to the style I use on my blog. So there's no real conclusion to this post other than to proclaim a hearty 'huzzah' for non-conformity of language standards in the underground press!

Click here to buy Beat Motel #10...

Free book Fridays

2011-03-25T09:52:00.000Z

Generosity is a virtue, and it's nice to be nice, so for the next few Fridays I'll be giving away some books. The first person to leave a comment on this page after I've announced my Free Book Friday giveaway each week on Twitter will receive a book of my choice, I'll even pay the postage. If I'm feeling particularly generous I might give away several books each Friday so if you've missed out on one chance it'll be worth your while hanging around for the next opportunity.

There's more to this scheme than a desire to randomly give away a few books - I want to do this as a celebration of the joy that sharing a reading experience brings to our lives. I'm sure I'm not alone in the desire to share a brilliant book with a friend as soon as I've finished reading it, and these Free Book Fridays give me a chance to enjoy that feeling at every week! This isn't a new idea, in fact there's an American blog called http://www.freebookfriday.com/ but they're doing things a little differently to me.

How to get involved with my Free Book Friday giveaways:

Follow me (@andrew_culture) on Twitter
When you see me announce that I'm about to give a book away come to this blog post and leave a comment. If you're successful then I'll be in touch to get your address off you.
Receive your book, read your book, and hopefully enjoy your book!

Picture is unrelated!

The books might be second-hand, they could be brand new, but either way you'll be getting a book that I've loved reading so much that I want to share it. You don't need to be a follower of this blog to get involved, but if you fancy clicking the 'follow' button and subscribing to my blog then that would be lovely.

One last thing - I'm afraid I'll only be posting books to UK addresses, sorry!

When a does a romance become a farce?

2011-03-23T13:32:00.001Z

When I started writing fiction (having spent years concentrating on non-fiction) I knew that romance was the genre I wanted to focus on. Books about boy A meeting girl B and (after obstacles 1, 2, and 3 have been conquered and boy C negated) falling in love* have always appealed to me. Most modern romantic fiction contains an element of humour, and the reason is obvious: falling in love can be one of the funniest things that ever happens to us, but I’ve been wondering if I can push that point a little further.

It would be foolish of me to declare that romantic fiction favours gentle humour, but it does appear to lean more towards the gentile and subtle, which is no less valid (and is ultimately more intelligent for both writer and reader), but is sometimes a bit sedate for my taste.

So when I started plotting my current work in progress I decided to push my luck when it came to pitching the humour. I made the decision that while my new book wouldn’t be a ‘whoopsie daisy missus, the vicar has come on my crumpets’ affair, it would contain a strong element of the ridiculous. I’m now roughly half way through my first draft and last night I read a passage out loud to my (very tolerant) wife, to which she replied,
“You’re not writing farce are you?” To which I quietly mumbled, “I hope not...”

But why not? Is farce without value? When does comedy become farcical? How do we know when we’ve crossed the thin line between what is funny and what is too daft to be easily digested? You tell me...

*Heinously simplistic I know, please accept my apologies!

MASON - From the core

2011-03-22T12:03:00.003Z

MASON (yup, written in capitals) was a band formed by Martyn Peck (guitar), Dom Cattermole (drums), Simon Finbow (vocals) and myself (playing bass) a few years ago. Martyn wrote a couple of pretty astounding Black Sabbath style desert rock/ stoner metal songs and we recorded them at the fantastic Amblin Man studios in Suffolk.

After a short period of inactivity we took a pretty radical change of direction, added some extra members and morphed into a bit of a post-rock band called 'These Are End Times'. Drummer Dom unearthed a video he'd shot at one of our practices at Springvale Studios in Ipswich and put together this rather smart little video. Enjoy!

Kindle - it's tough (love)

2011-03-21T14:16:00.005Z

Recently there has been a lot of chatter floating about on the subject of the Amazon Kindle, and I was just about to take a photo of my own Kindle for this blog post when Rinny cat took it upon herself to help me prove a point about how robust these devices are.

As you can see from the photo Rinny 'claimed' the Kindle as her own by rubbing against it and sending it crashing to the floor. If this had happened to my iPad (or even my cellphone) I would have been in a dilemma - drop the camera and save the device, or allow the device to fall and hang on to my camera. But I already knew that the Amazon Kindle is remarkably tough, so I let it fall. The Kindle remained unscathed in a situation that would probably have been the wallet weeping death of a more complex device. I have the standard Amazon case (with the cool little light) but I have no doubt that even without a case no harm would have come to the Kindle.

The Kindle does one thing very well, and it isn't intended to replace books any more than MP3 players are intended to replace live music. I still love collecting old books, and I know my Kindle will never be able to replace the buzz of finding a book when I'm hunting in a dusty bookshop.

When I first got my Kindle I promised myself that I wouldn't become a boring techno-evangelist, and therefore this blog post isn't intended to get you all excited about buying Kindle, but I will say this - if you love reading then there's probably a very good chance that you'll love the Kindle, and you needn't worry about it falling to bits if you've got a bit of the touch of a blacksmith about you (like I have).

Alison Morton has a good post on a different (and even tougher) Kindle case here - http://www.alison-morton.com/blog/2010/10/28/colour-me-red/

Weird writing habits – what are yours?

2011-03-20T17:21:00.002Z

For as long as I’ve been writing I’ve been fascinated by the habits writers develop, and the funny little superstitions they attribute to their ongoing success. When I started writing my first book I decided that I would smoke a large cigar while writing the first page of every book I ever wrote form that point on, but that was many years ago, and that book ground to a halt as fast as the cigar habit (thankfully) did.

These days I do all my fiction writing in a certain seat in my lounge, with the net curtain propped up so that I can stare down the street and will inspiration to wander up the pavement and strike me between the eyes. I also like to have a small pack of Aloe Vera alcohol hand gel with me; it’s not that writing is a dirty business, it’s more that spending a few seconds staring into the middle distance while applying the gel gives me a few moments to ponder the knots that I tie my writing into.

So there are my two little writing habits, but what are yours? I’d love to know!

Hive Novel - an enormous (but simple) idea for a collaborative novel.

2011-03-17T15:22:00.003Z

Apparently this is beehive!

The world is a constantly changing place - house prices fluctuate, hairstyles go in and out of fashion (mostly out in my case) and the way we work has huge potential to change at an alarming pace. I say 'potentially' because if we don't want to make the most of technological developments then nobody is going to force us to, but if we ignore change entirely then there's a risk we'll miss out on something useful, or even worse we might miss out on some fun!

Enough of the waffle, get on with it!
I make a part of my living by looking at new technology and figuring out how folk can get the most out of it, and recently I've been looking at Google Docs, and more specifically how it makes document collaboration incredibly easy. Google Docs allows several people to work on one document at once, so I think it might be fun to get a bunch of writers together to work on a novel.

Here's roughly how it would work:

I will set up a test story (no point in trying to run before we can walk)
Anyone who wants to join in will contact me and I'll send them the link they need to collaborate
We'll use the first few pages of the document to build a plot and detail characters
When enough of us have agreed that the story is finished we look into how we're going to edit it.

I have no idea if this idea has any mileage in it, but if just a handful of writers are prepared to spare a little bit of time then I'll give it a go! Writing and editing with Google Docs is as easy as using any word processor so nobody will need to learn any new technical skills, the only skill you'll need in order to contribute to the 'hive mind' is the ability to write. Because this is online collaboration contributors will be able to dip in and out whenever they get a few minutes.

If you're interested in getting involved in this (potentially crazy) idea, or if you have any reason you think it's a bad idea please let me know in the comments.

The feet with a thousand followers.

2011-03-17T11:19:00.001Z

This post was inspired by (and written for) a competition over on Nicola Morgan's 'Help! I need a Publisher!' blog HERE. The winners were great, so it's well worth having a look at them HERE.

I'm not the only person staring at my feet. Of course the others are staring at their own feet, not mine, apart from James, but you know about his filthy fetish. Sorry, I'm being 'inappropriate', but I know how you loved to laugh when you shouldn't, and when nobody else would dare. It's a shame they denied your final punchline.

I wonder if anyone else is talking to you in their head. You must be bored stiff (ha!) in your coffin on the dining table (don't worry, mum told them to put down coasters first).

Why is all this pomp amusing me so much? Probably because I know you would hate it. Dad made a big deal about the service being how he thinks you wanted it, shame they didn't give the you send off I know you really wanted, but where did you expect them to find such a large catapult?

Book grieving - how do you do it?

2011-03-15T14:03:00.004Z

I've just finished reading 'The Player of Games' by Iain.M.Banks and when my eyes fell off the last page I felt a familiar sensation- I felt sad. The reason for my woe wasn't the story in the book (which was pretty peppy and intelligent science fiction), the seed of the sadness was the reaslisation that never again will I be able to read that book for the first time.

Book grieving is something I'm sure we all suffer from time to time (or if you're especially lucky then all of the time), so how can we best deal with it? In the case of the Iain.M.Banks book I've just read I'll simply move onto the next book in the long running 'Culture' series to which 'The Player of Games' belongs, and the next book will offer reasonable respite, as will the next book in the series, and the next. But I'm only putting off an inevitable ultimate sadness - I know that one day there will be no more Iain.M.Banks left for me to read, and that day will be very sad indeed.

But this blog post isn't about Iain.M.Banks and how wonderful the worlds he creates are (and oh mercy, they really are), it's about how we deal with book grief in general. It's my theory that we don't deal with it at all, I don't think we want to at all - the pang of sadness we feel when finishing a great book is the appetiser for the next course in an unending feast of literature. If book grief didn't 'blight' us with this insatiable appetite for devouring stories then maybe our reading careers would only ever consist of one book, and wouldn't that be sad.

P.S. Seriously though, Iain.M.Banks is worth a read even if you're not a Sci-fi fan! I always thought science fiction was a bit, well, 'silly', but Iain.M.Banks proves the old Wodehouse adage that 'it's not the story that's the thing, it's the telling', and it just so happens Mr. Banks' stories are told in a galaxy far from here!

In defence of Americanisms.

2011-03-05T12:42:00.003Z

I'm occasionally accused of using too many 'Americanisms' in conversation and in my writing, but having grown up in rural Suffolk between two huge cold war USAF bases, with American servicemen's families as neighbours, and having done work experience on USAF Woodbridge as a teen, and considering that I worked as the only employee of an American, and that I also worked on USAF Lakenheath I 'think' the occasional Americanism might be excusable.

Although 'explanatory' might be a better word to use than 'excusable', because I don't feel I need an excuse to talk however I wish to. The English language (and all language) is a living, breathing, snarling and ever developing beast, and anyone who believes that we should speak 'the Queens English' is grossly confused about the way sentient beings communicate.

Language isn't something that should be placed in a vault under lock and key for its own preservation, the way we communicate is as much a part of social evolution as fashion and trends in beliefs.

I won't labour the point (because wiser men than I have written great books on the subject) but there is no English language. There's certainly no English language that we can claim was born in, and belongs to this soggy little island we call the UK. The words and phrases we use were started out German/ Scandinavian then got mixed up with French and Norman (yes they're two different things) and then nicked bits and bobs from almost all other European languages. So why is it so frowned upon for a Englishman to use American words? The 'foreign' words that we have assimilated into the English language are a part of the reason that English is so damn fun to write with!

In conclusion surely Americanisms (along with slang, hyperbole and colloquialisms) are irrelevant as long as we're understood ?

P.S Accents are another matter entirely (I know), but if you'd like to hear a proper old Suffolk accent then watch this short video my dad posted on YouTube; the man you can hear speaking has one of the best examples of a rural Suffolk accent that I've ever heard! Can you tell what he's saying? Suggestions in the comments box please!

This blog post was partly inspired by a Twitter chat I had with Talli Roland, go and buy her brilliant book right away! That's an order!

Here, have a pretty picture

2011-02-27T18:50:00.000Z

To balance out the snarky last post I'd like to tip the balance by showing you a nice photo. This photo is from a shoot I did for a lovely band called Alice's Evidence. The band wanted an ethereal feel to their promo photo so we (we being myself and Graham Birks) used a few neat lighting tricks. Enjoy!

How I ended up in the bargain box before I was published.

2011-02-27T10:41:00.000Z

A few years ago I wrote a (sort of) true story about a night I spent trapped in a NCP car park in Catford, it was quite a meaty tale so I published it as a standalone zine called 'A Short tale of a NCP car park nightmare'. All four or five hundred copies trotted out of the door to punters and zine distros and I thought no more of it. Until last week that is...

Last weekend I took a trip to the Brighton Zine Fest to catch up with old friends and marvel at the healthy state of the UK zine scene. While doing the rounds I caught up with Mr.T from Lights Go Out zine/ distro and noticed he had a box under his table labelled 'free - please take one'. I asked Mr.T if there was anything in his freebie box that I had published, he grinned and pulled out a copy of my NCP zine!

I laughed, he laughed, and the story could (and should) have ended there, but not content with consigning me to the freebie box Mr.T then tried to talk me into taking copies of my own zine back home with me. I laughed, he laughed, and then he said,

"No, seriously, please take it."

Ho-hum, for every little step forward we get a little push back...

Note:
That title is a bit of a lie I guess, I've been published plenty of times (mostly in zines) but I'm yet to publish a book. This whole post is very tongue in cheek - Mr.T is an enthusiastic advocate of underground publishing, and we could do with a LOT more folk like him in this world!

Is alliteration always attractive?

2011-02-26T19:28:00.001Z

I've always been a fan of bouncy prose, I love reading the lyrical writing of writers like P.G.Wodehouse but have never dared to presume that I have the ability to get away with the alliteration of swinging silly syllables in my own work.

But occasionally I fail to resist the temptation (see below) and while I try and make sure my writing is appealing to a broad audience I love occasionally indulging myself and having a bit of a muck about with words. The example below is from a book I'm working on at the moment.

What guilty pleasures are lurking in your writing?

"So Sam and Charlie zipped their coats up and settled down to a late supper of improbably flavoured potato chips and chemical warfare inspired fizzy pop. Literature is literally and liberally littered with loads of lovely stories of souls overlooking personal differences, and fortunately finding that when faced with formidable feisty foes they can fight shoulder to shoulder for a common cause. In George Orwell’s ‘1984’ folk founded friendships as a reaction to fascist forces, in that car park, on that night Sam and Charlie found common ground over foul foods."

I have a new blog!

2011-02-26T15:42:00.000Z

From now on I will only post writing/ creative/ random bits and bobs on this blog.

For all technical and web related articles please visit the blog on my new company website at www.webcaretakers.com/blogs

People of Brighton & Hove, have £35 on me!

2011-02-24T12:05:00.001Z

I'm sure the blogosphere is thick with people complaining about parking fines, and because I'm a fan of fairness I thought I'd tilt the balance a little. The tone of this post may come across as a little sarcastic, and if you view in that way, well that's up to you.

Last weekend my wife and I had a delightful stay with a friend who lives on the seafront in Hove (I only point out that it was Hove because people living in Hove don't like being accused of living in Brighton). Not being the sorts of folk who can afford chauffeurs we took our aging automobile with us, or rather it took us (I guess), and that of course meant that we needed somewhere to leave the vehicle while we were indoors drinking fine wine and discussing the proletariat.

"Not a problem' my friend piped up when my wife and I raised the issue, "Here, have a parking permit!" He said, "How marvellous!" we replied.

We placed one of Brighton and Hove City Council's scratch and sniff parking permits in our car window and thought no more of it, and it was the thinking no more of it that was our downfall.

One long conversation on political theory led to another, and wine led to port (which in turn led to whiskey) and I just plum forgot to get up early enough the following morning to pop a fresh new scratch and sniff parking permit in our car. So I got a parking fine...

BUT! And it's a very big butt, I really do believe that the fine was justified (because it was my fault I didn't get up early enough to put a new permit in my car), and if it wasn't for Brighton & Hove City Council traffic wardens working on Sundays then my friend would never be able to park within ten miles of his home at least one day out of seven! The fine was a quite reasonable £35 if we pony up the dough forthwith, and a rather steeper £70 if we were to drag our Cubans.

Now this is where it gets cool...
When I got home I logged onto the Brighton and Hove City Council website and was taken to a parking ticket punishment do-dad powered by http://yoopark.com/ Obviously paying parking fines is never a ton of fun, but speaking as someone who spends half his life assessing online systems I have to say the Brighton and Hove City Council/ YooPark system was great! In IT terms it is gloriously 'joined up', and what impressed me more than anything was the amount of photos of ones misdemeanour that are on offer! I wasn't going to contest this ticket because I know it's my own fault I forgot the extra permit, but even if someone did want to quibble there's really no point. Thank goodness a city council has given thought to improving the clarity in the way parking fines are administered. Instead of grumbling as I reached for my wallet (well my wife's wallet if you must know) I was horribly amused by the whole process; it's like being your own voyeur!

Seeing as I guess I've now paid for these photos of my (rather filthy) car I thought I might as well get my money's worth and share them with you for your entertainment:

So there you have it, people of Brighton and Hove, you're welcome to my £35, and I hope you spend it on something nice like libraries. I dearly love Brighton, and it's nice to contribute to the upkeep of the place.

My writing soundtrack.

2011-02-22T12:43:00.002Z

This post was inspired by something similar over on D.J.Kirkby's delightful blog, so this idea is far from original, but the music listened to while trying to be creative is a topic that comes up often in writing circles, so I thought I may as well stick my oar in.

I have been playing in bands and putting on shows since I was about fourteen years old, and music is so a part of my soul that I think my perspective is slightly skewed from the accepted norm. For many years what music represented (and how creative it was) seemed so much more important to me than how good a tune was, which I now realise is a bit silly really - a good tune is a good tune regardless, any further analysis (especially ethical) only detracts from ones enjoyment.

That being said, I have been writing about music for about ten years now, and my deep entrenchment in the alternative/ underground/ punk(ish) music scene (through publishing my own zine, and writing for others) can't be ignored as a contributing factor in my tastes.

Enough of that guff, on with the music!
Rather than dissecting this very small selection of the music I listen to whilst writing (maybe in a Nick Hornby style) I'm going to let the music speak for itself, and hope that maybe you discover something new here that you go on to investigate further. Scratching below the surface of commercial music to discover the remarkable gems that lay beneath is a truly wonderful thing.

I listen to a lot of instrumental music while I'm writing, I find the lyrics in some of the more politicised music I listen to just too damned distracting. The harsh truth is that a lot of the music I listen to while writing sits in the background, I like the company, but not the influence!

I have tried to make this selection as varied as possible, so if there's something you don't like (and please do give these tracks a chance) then don't run away, try the next track!

One final point - just because I've described my tastes in music as 'alternative' don't assume that means they'll be noisy and/ heavy or punky!

I love the swing and swoop of this band, it's epic but endearing.

Happy Music!

I'm not afraid to admit the majesty in some tracks by MONO has brought be close to tears before.

Okay, so this one does get a little bit heavy...

Hopefully if you've made it this far into proceedings then you're overcome any fear you may have had of heavy guitars, Pelican create some really beautiful music.

And this last choice is a bit cheeky because it's a band I play in! The video was made for us in Hungary.

Sometimes Suffolk stifles successful spelling.

2011-02-22T10:58:00.002Z

It's a cliché, but the English language is one of the hardest in the world to learn, not least of all for those who speak it as a first language. It's not so much that it's difficult to speak correctly (although there are several famous folk who appear to struggle), it's not even the case that it is particularly difficult to structure written sentences correctly (although those who have read my writing may claim I struggle, especially when I use too many brackets, like right now). The real challenge (in my opinion) is spelling the words we wish to use.

The English language isn't phonetically accurate, and when we take into consideration regional dialect the issue becomes more complex, and I think that's the murky swamp from whence the beast that is my problem with spelling arises from.

Growing up in Suffolk and learning to pronounce local place names confuses the issue of spelling correctly , when in my formative years I was learning the alphabet, and where convention dictates we scatter silent vowels I was unable to put the theory into practice. I won't go into great detail and list many examples, in fact I'll give you just one: when I was a teenager I worked in a village called 'Debach', now I'd like you to take a moment to consider how that name is pronounced.... Got it? Unless you read ahead you might be surprised to learn that Debach is in fact pronounced as 'Debbagge'. Interesting? Not really to be honest, but when I woke up this morning I thought it might make a half passable blog post...

One of the only stroppy letters I have ever written

2011-02-21T23:06:00.000Z

This post was originally published on the (now long since defunct) www.lawsie.com

A DVD Recorder seemed to the be perfect solution to us not having a tv. We would of course give the DVD recorder to my sister. Sadly when the dvd recorder arrived it looked like it had been thrown from a moving vehicle at a mob of monkeys holding crow bars and partaking in some sort of sponsored technology smashing event. Here's the email I sent to my supplier's customer service department. I'll keep you updated as to what they say.

Dear sir or robot,

Today I took delivery of PYE dvd recorder (see attached invoice for more details).

There were no visible signs of damage to the box that contained the dvd recorder to I happily signed for the item at the depot. As I’m sure you can appreciate actually opening an item at a depot and giving it a forensic level examination is just not possible.

When I got the box home I was disappointed to find the device simply rattling around in the box with just two strips of air pockets and no other protection. I was more than a little concerned that the instruction booklet was damp but decided to overlook this and picked the device out of the box.

My first problem was that the drive front was missing, I couldn’t even find it in the box.

I am stunned that someone in your warehouse packed this dvd recorder assuming a gaping whole in the front of the device was normal!

The right hand side of the case looked like someone has been trying to get it opening using a screwdriver

Where as the right hand side looks like a monkey of some sort has attacked it. Note also the lump missing from the very bottom of the front panel

By now I was starting to wonder if someone had been trying to get into this machine, the broken guarantee seal confirmed this.

As did another broken seal on the bottom of the device, maybe someone was trying to use this dvd recorder as a money box?

The final straw was that the remote control has a stress fracture. These don’t happen by the occasional knock or drop, stress lines in plastic result from extraordinary force.

I have been buying IT goods in a professional capacity for around 8 years and have been a very happy customer of yours for some time as well, but I do feel let down with regards to this order, to be honest I was looking for the hidden tv cameras as I inspected this item. I don’t believe this damaged was caused in transit, and on reinspecting the original description given for this device on your site there is no mention of it being second hand.

In the past I have been so impressed with your services that I have ceased to hold stock and instead refer my clients directly to you, I am aware that you no longer have an affiliate programe.

Please advice on how you will remedy this situation.

yours faithfully

Lawsie

UPDATE 19/03/06

My supplier has just sent me a RMA code so that I can send this dvd recorder back to them. They will charge me £10 for testing it, if there's nothing technically wrong with it (yeah right) then they will charge me £10 to post it back to me! I also have to foot the bill for posting this item to them. They want me to send it to them in the same packaging they sent it to me. That won't be hard as it was just rattling around in the box!

UPDATE 07/04/06

My supplier just sent notification that they will be issueing a full refund to my credit card, too chuffin right! In their exact words, "Item ID: 88545 Pye DVD Recorder will be refunded, this item can not be restocked as new". No kidding! I'm still amazed that they sent it out to me in the first place!

Crowroad - Reciprocal - Kandi Stick Ipswich Steamboat 09/09/05

2011-02-21T22:45:00.000Z

These are very old photos taken on a very rubbish camera, and are being posted here for very nostalgic reasons. I used to put on a lot of gigs at The Steamboat Tavern in Ipswich, and I'm still proud of that. I don't know why I was so fond of the slow shutterspeed blurry look back then, but it was taken on a very old digital camera.

Our always helpfull and friendly door staff

Crowroad

Kandi Stick

Kandi Bass

kandi hoozit

Reciprocal

Pretty Reciprocal

Rock Reciprocal

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The Ballistics, This Mourning After, ZEEB?, All or None, Dan Foden, The Fanny Pads, Jack Rundell, Kneedeep, The Rists and MORE!

2011-02-21T22:37:00.000Z

This is content from an old site of mine, I'm posting it on my blog for a few old friends. Normal service here will be resumed soon. These photos are from a charity all-dayer a friend and I put on for the local hospital. The captions were written over five years ago so if they don't make any sense then it's no good asking me about it because I haven't a clue myself.

ER,,, presents Charity All-Dayer Ipswich Steamboat - 28/05/05

All or none

The face that launched a million chips

Ah, the look of love says it all

Go Jim go!

Dan Foden

Dan Foden and a member of ZEEB?

Fanny Pads

Fanny Pads tell you where it's at

Ghosts in the audio

Luke goes 'widdly widlly'

This is a boat

Jack Rundell

Jack tries to swallow the mic

As the screams for more go up; some lad tries the 'walk like an egyptian' dance

Ben Deep

Kneedeep

Laudanum

Mickey Rist tunes up

The Rists

The Rists get with the Oi action

Al Rist sings his love songs, love of oi of course

Just look at the concentration on his face!

Rists Ripp

Oi Army

When the skins are in town,,,

,,,the Rozzers are never far behind

But never last long against the might of OI

Rokki Ballistic stands proudly before his stack

The Ballistics

Mikey Ballstic gets in the swing

Glenn Ballistic helps out with the drums

Go Glenn go!

a very contemplative Daz Ballistic

Go Daz go!

The Horn

The horn are informed there has been a complaint during thier set

Barnie Shark tells James Shark to stop showing off with his tuning skills

Things Found In sharks

This is a boat get nautical

This mourning after vocalist plays a cardboard box

This mourning after start to rip it up a wee bit

Rah!

The marvelous door staff

Hellooooooooo

Excuse me mate, have you got the time?

Is that a tuppence I see before me?

Victim Unkown

Victim Unkown project

ZEEB?

Omega ZEEB?

Delta ZEEB? breaks it on down maaaan

Omega ZEEB? help out in brudder

Gamma ZEEB?


Gamma ZEEB tells it like it is

Ian Parsons

Cheers to everyone that played and spectated, we raised £1500 for Kirton Ward at Ippo Hospital!

Cats drink from the tap

2011-02-21T22:11:00.001Z

This is content taken from www.lawsie.com in 2005, I'm posting it here as a way of archiving it. It's kinda nice to see how much we've developed our house since these photos were taken, it doesn't look quite so much like a squat now.

Our cats drink from the tap every morning without fail. Drinking from the sink has become an important part of our cat's routine. I decided to take some photos to show the world, I don't know if the world cares or not but that's never stopped me in the past!

I was actually up a little late this morning so Skibbs was a little ticked off. Note the almost total lack of teeth this cat has. Sometimes we call her Gummy Joe, but she doesn't care, I don't think she speaks or understands English.

Soon enough I had swiched on the tap to just the right level for her to have a drink. Each cat has their own preffered volicity of water flow you see, they just stand there and wait while I tinker with it. It's not like our cats don't have a water bowl. but they just don't seem to want to drink from it. They'd far rather drink from the sink, the drips on the water butt in the garden or from a stagnant puddle!

Due to the lateness of my arrival this morning there were a few cross glances during drinkies

Before long a queue formed, and fearing a 'pat on the head' from Rinny, Skibbs jumped down.

Despite being the head of our household Rinny has no class at all. Where as the other two cats delicately lick at the water, Rinny chomps at it and permanently has a vaugely surprised look on her face as if she doesn't understand why her teeth aren't digging into anything, although that look could be due to senstive teeth.

So this is the view I have from the crapper every single morning. There are actually three cats there, but Cefer said she hasn't done her fur yet this morning so asked not to have any closeups done. No matter what time of the day I choose to 'pass matter' all three cats appear from nowhere to come and lend their moral support, it used to disturb me but now I've just accepted it as normal, which is probably worse.

Our Cat Watches Television!

2011-02-21T22:07:00.000Z

This is VERY old content from www.lawsie.com that I am posting here so I don't lose it.

This is a photo of my cat Skibbs watching 'Britain Goes Wild' in January 2005

Bungalow Basher

2011-02-21T22:04:00.000Z

BungalowBasher.com is a domain mentioned on 16th January 2006, at around 11.45am during 'Ring Round The Bath' on BBC Radio 4.

I wondered if the domain existed, and it didn't! So before the program had even finished I had this domain registered and this page live! Ring Around the Bath is one of my favourites on Radio 4, it's lighthearted, irrevarent and I can identify with most of the characters involved!

The series is based on some middle age parents living in a large house biding their time till all the children fly the nest. The problem is that one of them seem very keen to leave!

If you're reading this from outside the UK then you may not understand what a Bungalow is, it is a single story house.

Bungalow Bashing was used in this episode to describe the process of buying a cheap Bungalow, demolishing it and building a large house for profit. In reality I imagine this would be something of a challenge thanks to local planning laws.

The Ebay bath!

2011-02-21T22:00:00.002Z

Here are some more pictures of the bath that I had up for sale on ebay a LONG time ago, you may wonder why I'm posting them on my blog, and to tell the truth so am I. Eventually the bath was collected by scrap metal merchants who swore a LOT when trying to lift it!

All or None - Grogan - Aflightoremember - Peter Cat - Soma Ipswich Steamboat 06/04/05

2011-02-21T21:55:00.000Z

Some old photos of old times. I'd like to add that these photos were taken before I had taken up photography as a part of my job!

All or None

Look at that!

\m/

All or none rip it up

Two fine gig goers

Craig Unknown

Happy Buzz Grogan

weeeeeeeee

And the Grogan crowd goes wild!

this is the way most women look at me too

Grogan as seen by drunkards

Marc Newby (Aflightoremember)

Peter Cat

Sam Cat

Peter Cat wooing the crowd

Peter Cat get funky with the Harmonica

Soma

Soma dude playing bass Hendrix stylee

Against Me! in Brighton 22/03/06

2011-02-21T21:47:00.000Z

These photos and captions come from a very old version of lawsie.com and probably mean more to me and a small group of friends from www.punknews.co.uk than the wider world, but never mind hey, and plus, everyone likes photos don't they?

The MafroMobile on the A23

Mafro with something he procured

When we got to Brighton Mafro went to the mandolin players equvilent of a porn store

This will mean nothing to you unless you are my mate Izzy in Toronto, and I guess there's a fairly high chance you're not

me (andrew culture), Sam (Dropkick the resistance) and MRO

A classic photo of Simon Slapstick, Tess Mute and Sophie Legless

Sam looking dashing in my coat (I'm such a gent).

Colin ordering Indian, Jo looking to escape and Mafro scowling for some reason

Andy FPTP returning from a bit of civic duty, he moved a cone

No idea

Mafro, note the fact there isn't actually anything on the decks!


Sam and rory reminising about KickStart

Er, I didn't actually take any photos of Against Me!

Enemy Within, Novasouls, Laudanum, Desert Monkey, Your Loss, Mr Daddy, Waxing Captors, Crow Road - 10/08/05 Ipswich, Steamboat Tavern

2011-02-21T21:29:00.001Z

Here are a bunch of crap old photos I took of gigs in Ipswich many years ago, I'm sure they'll mean nothing to most people, but a ton to a very few people. The captions were written at the time, so apologies if they don't make any sense now.

ER... presents - Acoustic Night IV Ipswich Steamboat 10th August 2005

Crowroad

The godlike genius producer that is Ian Crow

Lewis from Desert Monkey

Novasouls

Enemy Within

Laudanum

Mr Daddy

Jack from the Waxing Captors

Jack and Luke Captor

The whole captors line up, and someone playing air-cunnilingus

Luke Captor sings a sirens song

2/3 Waxing Captors

Your Loss

Joey, Flatspin, Ghosts in the Audio, Paul Hayley, Kneedeep, Grogan, Tom Pikey, Flacidashtrash, ZEEB? Ipswich Steamboat 25th August 2005

2011-02-21T21:14:00.000Z

For better or (more likely) worse, I've decided to grab a few bits and bobs from an archive of the old Lawsie site and bung them on my blog. Sorry!

ER... presents - Acoustic Night V Ipswich Steamboat 25th August 2005

Flacidashtrack


Flatspin

Grogan

Joey

Kneedeep

Ghosts in the Audio

Paul Hayley

Tom Pikey (on the right) does an impromptu beat box set

ZEEB? start their acoustic industrial core set

Hang go BANG on cooker

I will destroy all cookers

ZEEB? in need of more coverage

Delta keep the beat

Is that smoke coming from that cooker?

The remains of a fine evening's work

Introducing Mr.Grunty by PickleTech

2011-02-11T15:34:00.001Z

If you've come to my blog for my writing please feel free to skip over this post!

I'm really not much of a music gear geek, in fact I've barely deviated from the same set up (Musiman Stingray + Trace Elliot GP12) in about a decade, but occasionally I fancy something a little bit different. I'm lucky enough to know someone locally who makes custom FX pedals, and when I asked him if he could create a bass boost/ fuzz pedal that would cause structural damage to the firmament he said yes, yes he could.

So I named this new bass FX beast 'Mr.Grunty', and I'd like to introduce you in person via a short video:

If you want your own custom PickleTech pedal go say hullo to the man himself over at http://www.myspace.com/pickletech

BIKE PUNX stickers for sale.

2011-02-04T11:10:00.001Z

Bike Punx stickers are 14.5cm long & 5.5cm wide

a.k.a 'Bike Punks'

I made these Bike Punx stickers when the CornDog zine distro was taking up a large chunk of my life, and as I still have a stack left I thought I might as well flog 'em on my blog.

These Bike Punx stickers are made of finest quality vinyl and stick like mad things to anything that you decide to improve by adding a Bike Punx sticker to (bike, wheelie bin, pedestrians etc).

They're only a quid each and fifty pence for postage, so why not go nuts and order ten or twenty for your mates, so you can all whiz about the place like some sort of super cool punk gang, you never know, you might get good at solving crime or something.

Bike Punx stickers £1.00 each

Why DIY?

2011-02-02T11:43:00.000Z

Originally written as a quote for an article being put together by Howard Freeman of IP1 Magazine in March 2010. The 'DIY' refers to the music/ creative industries.

DIY is less a choice and more a necessity - until mass media loses the yoke of commercialism and starts to follow art and truth for their own worth we'll always need our underground network. DIY is about failing to find what you want, and being driven (by whatever) to create/ deliver it yourself. DIY is because the world is made shit by a handful and forced glorious by the majority.

A piece for my portrait.

2011-02-02T11:28:00.001Z

Originally written to accompany a portrait of me for an exhibition of work by the fantastic illustrator Steve Larder. The drawing of me shown on this post is an old portrait, Steve created a new drawing for this exhibition.

I guess we all wonder about how useful or effective the little niche we carve our for ourselves in the world of punk is from time to time. Recently I've been reading zines detailing the crazy adventures that friends are having drinking their way around the world touring in (or with) bands, and I'd be lying if I denied that I'm not even a little bit envious. Then there are my more anarchic friends who are out there trying their best to smash unfair systems to smithereens (and generally making the world a better, safer place by questioning everything), and yes, I'm glad they're doing it, because it really does need to be done.

But then I look at my wife, I look at our garden and allotment, and I look at my scrappy scruffy clothes and distain for material gain and think 'yeah, maybe I am doing my own little bit right here'. Keeping an eye on the chemical brands advertised to us, hunting for the truth behind the message of mass media (and other tiny acts of sedition) does make a difference. And after all, isn't punk about being none-too-judgemental? Even when we're judging ourselves?

ZEEB? Third album reviews

2011-01-31T18:59:00.003Z

These are the reviews, you can click here to buy the album...

FROM - 21/02/10 http://www.ultimatereviewer.co.uk/review78zeeb.html
FOUND - 21/02/10
Two years in the making, the third installment from 'Zeeb' is a sure-fire winner, with creativity taken to another level and no experimental stone left unturned. Before we discuss the music, I might take a moment to praise the artwork of Indonesian, Danny Tremor – something which is reflective of the unique Zeeb project.

Without further ado, let my attentions turn to the musical mastery on offer with this CD. With notably amusing song titles such as ‘Ronald Raygun’ ‘Grindcore Grandma’ and ‘Dayglo Socks’ to name but a few, you won’t find a more serious and committed band when it comes to the orchestration of instruments. The first song we hear lasts the spritely length of 2mins and 43seconds; however its duration is packed with Zeeb’s musical ethos, giving the perfect insight to this album. It is very clear to me that each member of the band has a firm understanding of their instrument and this is represented in the precise accompaniments and harmonised sections chosen. Vocally, this is akin to a narrator telling the Zeeb tale through multiple genres, where the listener is taken on a journey- one which never fails to impress. The furiosity of guitar and drum work can be heard in aforementioned ‘Ronald Raygun’ where a blend of varying tempo keeps this album moving at pace, whilst maintaining keen interest. Even though it is possible to question areas of influence, there is nobody doing anything as original and refreshing as Zeeb, and so with this, they stand alone as a flagship band for the next generation.

An album I can proudly praise and it would be fantastic to see Zeeb hit the big time, because it would certainly blow the market wide open for more inventive bands to surface.

A very strong release from Zeeb and a must have for all.

That's it for now, if you find a new review please let me know!

ZEEB? - ZEEB? (self titled album!)

2011-01-31T18:48:00.003Z

With their eponymous third album ZEEB? are up to their old tricks!

Two years in the making the third ZEEB? album sees the band at the peak of their creative curve – similar in style to their first album the band have brought back the weird, but with a huge slice of pounding noise and a sprinkling of hip hop infused funk punk.

ZEEB? were never a band that were easy to pigeon hole and with their third album they continue to confound and entertain. This is an album stuffed with hidden detail and is the band’s most accessible and memorable offering to date.

TRACKLISTING

Part F
1. Lady Gravy

2. You Want It Too Much

3. Ronald Raygun USTCB0924155

4. Adventures of Young Zeeb on planet rock

5. Grindcore Grandma

6. 36 Takes

7. Jeff Metal`s In Love

8. Pornotron 3000

Part G
9. Wookie Nookie

10. Hermaphromidget

11. Adventures of Young Zeeb on planet pop

12. Chicken Noodle King

13. Ex-hiphop Instrumental

14. Ameoba Man

15. Bratislavian Squares

16. Dayglo Socks

17. One Take

Buy now for just £5.00
(+ £1.00 for postage)
Read the reviews...

Find out more at www.zeeb.co.uk

'This is huge' - my new blog!

2011-01-30T12:51:00.000Z

As you'll know (if you're a regular on my blog) I very rarely cross-post content, but as I have a new blog to promote I decided to make an exception.

If you head on over to http://thisishuge.blogspot.com/ you'll find a blog based around a subject that might surprise a few of my followers. I decided to start an additional blog because the joint topics of writing, web technology and random crap make this blog confusing enough as it is!

So go then, off you go http://thisishuge.blogspot.com/

How to top up your friend's mobile phone without knowing what network they're on

2011-01-28T12:08:00.000Z

A.K.A how to top up your kid's cellphones!

This article explains how to top up third party mobile pay-as-you-go phones in the United Kingdom.

Topping up friend's mobile phones is something that (for whatever reason) we sometimes feel the need to do, but sometimes our friends aren't keen on our 'charity' so we can't ask them what network they're on (so that we can buy them a top-up card).

Let me try to clarify by telling you how I came to need to find out to top up a friend's pay as you go mobile phone: A friend of mine is having a spot of minor bother (nothing serious) and I want to stay in touch with him, but he never has any credit on his phone, so text message conversations are very one sided. His lack of credit also means that if I text him to ask what network he is on (so I can buy him a top-up voucher) he won't be able to text me back to let me know!

How to top up your friend's mobile phone without knowing what network they're on:

Go to http://www.ofcom.org.uk/static/numbering/s7.xls and look up the first part of your friend's mobile phone number, it's the first column on the Ofcom spreadsheet (the SABC column). The network your friend is on is listed in the 'Communications provider' column, which makes sense doesn't it.
Go to http://www.topupsdirect.co.uk/ and click the big 'buy now' button and follow the instructions. Payment can be made using PayPal. You will be charged a £2.50 handing fee but I think that's quite a reasonable fee.
Your friend will be sent a text message telling them that they've been given 'pay as you go' credit, at this stage you might want to text them to tell them what's going on!