Timbo

A Pictoral Guide to Essential Store Cupboard Items aboard Royal Tudor

Well done Nav Com! Much needed initiative! Why do I picture the owner of Hoveton Great Broad only from the neck down stroking a long haired white cat with a diamond collar sitting in a bunker underneath the broad?

There's a rather...large lady, that always makes a point of waving to the beagles when we go into Stalham. The first time she waved, so large were her gesticulations I thought she was in distress and went to see if we could help. Don't know the lady's name but we call her Sue N'Army.

The news. I read it, watch it and then I just can't help myself. All from today's news. Scientists have discovered that the ability to cook food emerged in humans millions of years ago. It's claimed that chimps have similar 'skills' to humans with regard to an innate ability to cook and prepare food. But don't worry there won't be monkeys on Can't Cook Won't Cook as chimpanzee's don't whip out the deep fat fryer because they have trust issues...too afraid someone's going to nick their chips while they are peeling the second pan load! Talking of chimps...Tony Blair is to take on 'anti-extremism' role! Apparently if these extremists don't give up taking things to the extreme Tony will crown himself King of the World, personally take charge of the world's armed forces, invade Asia, Arabia and America (well known hotbeds of extremism), put everyone to the sword, level their cities and sow their fields with salt. Now that should teach those extremists a lesson! One hundred people pick up a bus? Some dreadlocked pillock on a unicycle rides on the road and under the wheels of a bus...and one hundred passers by help lift the bus off the idiot. Unfortunately no sooner had they put the bus back down than another bus arrived immediately after the first and mowed down the gawkers filming the rescue for TubeFace and YouTwit! Oxford University take a vote on eradicating the last remaining 'all male' college. David CaMORON and Boris Johnson can't see the problem in allowing minorities and the underprivileged into Oxford. After all, someone has to do the cooking, cleaning and mow the lawns! The Prison Service allow a multiple rapist out on day release...where upon he commits two more rapes and goes on the run before they track him down in London. Convicted rapist...on day release? Could it be we need some less trusting souls to guard the nations nasties? Perhaps chimps, suspicious little 'nerks' that they are, should be placed in charge of the prisons. At least we could guarantee that chip theft in the Prison Service would be reduced. Hundreds of people turn up in Bristol for a 'free-for-all' public water fight. Tory ministers condemned the event as a missed opportunity to collect revenue from 'squirts' and will be investigating a change in child benefit to compensate. New figures for Norfolk show that 20,500 children in the county live in poverty.There are 9354 obese children in Norfolk and over 50,000 obese adults in Norfolk. Scientists believe this is a major factor in why the county does not have a large chimpanzee population. No self respecting ape is going to colonise an area where the indigenous population will nick your chips! And they think I'm an idiot?

What a fantastic idea! And a very nifty website too! There is just something about wood,water and diesel, in the right quantities of course, that make magic!

You see, how do I put this? What I'm getting at is, perhaps, I bet she is wondering too...what I wanted to say is... If Iain gets updated to Windows 10 will Mrs Iain get an update from Iain 1.0 to Iain 2.0 that cleans windows?

'Promote' the Broads? I took the word the word 'promote' in the legislation governing the Broads Authority to mean 'extend the navigation' not 'waste money on re-branding or marketing campaigns'. Could my english be so poor that I have misunderstood...innit tho m8?

I'm afraid I use the F1sh1NG R0D alongside the R10JA, C1g-R and the G00D 800k codecs. Uncle Albert did have a tantrum last time we were down as he was having Jeremy Kyle withdrawal but he soon stopped when I threatened to drop him off at the Bus Station in Norwich to watch the antics of the assorted muppetry there. Joking aside I actually convert all film footage using the DNxHD codec or if some wally has sent me footage from a mac (*spits) I convert it using the Prores codec before using the DNxHD. For the most comprehensive package of codecs Google the K-Lite Codec Pack. However if it's a true cinema quality codec you are after you need to download the Go Pro Cineform Studio Trial. You don't need to ever use the software but included in the software is the codec package we use in the studio which cost us several thousand to license...and even when the trial runs out the codec will remain on your machine.

So pro National Park people are taking the Broads Authority to court for calling the Broads a National Park when it's not a National Park, because to call the Broads a National Park when they are not a National Park they have dropped the Sandford principle and have promised not to become a National Park in the future? Its those bobble hats squeezing the head!

I had gone to visit a friend who was in what was known as the Kawasaki Ward at Bradford Royal Infirmary. One of the old long wards with a polished wooden floor. My friend had been mugged and was in the place for several weeks. The young lad in the next bed had a broken leg from a biking accident. He was a jovial sort, all beard, black t-shirts and tattoos. His friends were jovial sorts too. The day the biker left the hospital on his new crutches his friends had stuck drawing pins in the bottom of each crutch. The lad's crutches slipped on the polished wooden floors, he fell down and fractured his pelvis and his other leg. He was not such a jovial chap then, I can tell you!

Thanks for all the suggestions but I have finally found a solution to Uncle Albert's trouser problem. I picked up Uncle Albert on Tuesday for his weekly shopping trip and visit to my house. My other half was on holiday so decided to come with me. I took one look at Uncle Albert when we arrived at his house and knew something had to be done. Three days growth of beard on most of his face, what looked like two huge hairy caterpillars crawling out of his nostrils where he had missed shaving under his nose for a few days more made him look like Hitler. Black jogging bottoms that had shrunk in the wash, black t-shirt and a black blazer...with half his breakfast down the front. Of course everything was topped...and bottomed...off with his damned sailors hat and his velcro fastening shoes. Step One. Drive back to my house and put his razor in his hand. Point out there is no tea and cake without a shave. Step Two Take him for tea and cake and do his food shop at Tesco. Step Three Take him to Buoys to buy clothes. Buoyes is a fantastic shop for the boating fraternity. They sell tools, hardware, housewares, materials, upholstery supplies, fishing tackle, painting and decorating tools and paints, they even sell 'pin striping' masking tape for doing the gold trim on RT! Most importantly of all they sell clothes. The kind of clothes Ted Moult and Bernard Mathews used to wear on the TV adverts. Farmers clothes, old mans clothes. I grabbed the first assistant I could find and told her what i was looking for. Trousers that with an elasticated waist that were not jogging bottoms, that looked like normal trousers, that were of a lightweight material easily washed and dried, wouldn't need ironing, were a dark colour and came in sizes ranging from XXL to FB! Hey Presto! She had two pairs of just what I was looking for. I added a number of polo type shirts to the shopping trolley, a navy coloured lightweight casual 'bomber' style jacket and a pair of deck shoes, with velcro fastenings! Back at home I pried Uncle Albert's blazer from him. Confiscating the blazer he was dressed in his finery. Vast, vast improvement. He looked quite dapper. Even when he insisted on putting that sodding sailor hat back on! Visited him today at his day center and he was wearing his trousers and a new shirt. Somehow and from somewhere he had found another blazer, royal blue this time. I will be confiscating the damned thing next Tuesday! You may think I'm cruel confiscating his beloved blazers but they are a nightmare to put on him. It can take twenty minutes to get his arms into the sleeves. On top of this there is the cleaning bill which can run to £30 a weeks on dry cleaning. We topped everything off with a bottle of his favourite aftershave, Aramis, and he was swatting off old ladies at the day center like flies. Just got to wait for Buoyes to get more of those trousers into the store now!

I think it's more than time we patronized a pub MM. Although if we patronized more than one Iain it would be more of a 'Grand Sneer' than a pub crawl! Besides which, last time MM and I were at a pub and tried to move on...Ambulances were called for Uncle Albert! And that's true!

CoNUNdrum?

9-11 A date that marks a tragedy and a change in how many people saw the world. It certainly changed my view of the world. For a start I woke up laid on the living room floor with a headache. A can of beer lay on the carpet, liquid dripping from it. The television was still switched on and the horror of transatlantic events were unfolding. I thought it was a film. I thought it was incredible how they had managed to get news presenters to take part in the film. After two hours I decided that although an interesting concept the 'film' was getting boring. Besides which, I was hungry. The headache seemed to ease a little once I had dragged myself onto my feet and staggered into town. I had only moved to the town the day before. It had been a traumatic few months for me. An operation to remove two discs from my spine then pushed down the stairs and fractured my spine and pelvis two days after getting home from the hospital and now getting a divorce. As yet my new house had no cooking facilities. There seemed to be no fast food shops open, so I popped into the local Weatherspoons for something to eat. They refused to serve me and asked me to leave as I was drunk. This upset me somewhat. Still as I was deposited outside the pub, I spotted WHSmith...surely they would at least have a bar of chocolate. I got thrown out of WHSmiths for being drunk too. The headache was getting much worse so I decided to walk home to my new house. The film was still playing. My Dad, Uncle Albert, turned up at the house. "What the hell are you playing at boy? Its 2:30 in the afternoon and you are rat arsed!" he thundered. I started to protest but was shoved out of the door and into the car. "You stink of beer and can't string two words together!" he continued to rant as he drove me back to his house. Back at his house I was told to get showered. I couldn't manage the buttons on the shirt. Uncle Albert dragged it off me, buttons popping. A vast bruise ran around the right hand side of my torso. Starting at my neck, running down my arm and across my chest and back. Uncle Albert swifty telephoned the doctor, who told him to drive me to hospital immediately. Living in the sticks its quicker to drive than ask for an ambulance. I was totally disorientated at the hospital in Scunthorpe. I sat bare chested on a trolley in a corridor for an age. Someone came to take my details. "What's your name?" asked the bored looking nurse. "In my wallet!" I relied passing her the wallet and card. "You're a doctor?" asked the now wide eyed nurse leaving me at a gallop. "Not that sort..." I tried to reply to her rapidly disappearing back. I seemed to be now floating along hospital corridors into a room stuffed with doctors and nurses. Now I was in a hospital ward. Now a doctor sat beside the bed. "I don't want to panic you Dr but you're having a stroke." said the doctor as everything went black. That was my first stroke. It took me a little over eight months to get out of hospital. Even then, my speech was awful, I had to walk with a stick. I lost my job, you can't lecture if you can't read, write or talk. The world was very different. You feel different. Your thoughts follow different paths, often abstract. Even the familiar is no longer comforting. Before last Christmas I had stroke number 17, seventeen. Over the years the frequency has slowed. I have to admit that each one took a little bit more of me and it was harder to get over. These days I'm a little more robust thanks to a new specialist and a GP that 'gets' my sense of humour and understands what I expect out of life. Of course I wouldn't be anywhere without my family and friends. My other half is fantastic! She knows my limitations and seamlessly helps me present a normal aspect as I can to the outside. Things such as money for example. I will always have a pocket full of change as I can't get my head around which coins add to the right amount. My other half will make sure I have enough for what I want to buy and will check the change for me without others seeing she's done it. She recognises the signs of a stroke occurring and can differentiate between a new stroke and me just being tired. She will go through the litany of checking I've taken my medication and all of those numerous but little things I will forget or pay no heed to. Fortunately she shares my sense of humour with regard to stroke. At an eye test when the optician told me that my left eye worked correctly it only did so when something approached my right eye, I jokingly begged her not to tell my other half as she would poke me in the eye to see if it was true. The optician laughed a little and of course when I left the examination room told my other half... who promptly poked me in the eye. My daughter also looks after me. When I was first out of hospital she was just a tiny little tot of a four year old. Uncle Albert used to write instructions on my arm should I get lost walking around the village. Along the lines of "Down Hill Shop: UP HILL HOME". On one trip to the shop with my daughter I was approached by a woman in the village. "Hello, how are you?" she asked taking my hand and stroking my head. I had no idea at all who the bloody hell the woman was and was starting to become a little distressed until in steps my four year old daughter. "Daddy has been very poorly and can't remember but we must all love him very much and he will get better!" Of course Holly, now 19, helps me with Uncle Albert and I'm still comforted by her confidence. Although these days she tells me 'If you ever get like that old bugger I'm putting you in a home!". Of course there are some very special friends without whom life would just not be tolerable. People who go out of their way to help without interfering. People who are just 'there' and through their kindness give you that extra push you need exactly when you need it. People like 'ole 650 XS who looks after Royal Tudor and has the patience to deal with both me and Uncle Albert, Mike and Pat of Chameleon who will pop into my flat to make sure I am OK if I've gone quiet. Maurice Mynah who keeps my brain ticking over (picture mad scientist and pickled brains in jars) and of course Doug. Without Doug I would have been at a total loss, sat sobbing at the enormity of doing the work on Royal Tudor myself and not developing some much needed woodworking skills or looking forward to several years afloat. To finish, some things about stroke you may not know. Stroke is not something that affects only old people. Most stroke survivors are fit and healthy middle aged to young people. Hell, I ran marathons at the time of my first stroke. Someone who has had a stroke is referred to as a 'survivor' not a 'victim'. Surviving is what we do. Stroke survivors suffer, quite expectedly, from depression. Stroke survivors suffer from some extreme mood swings. Personality can often change dramatically. Stroke survivors quite often become dependant upon such things as alcohol and of course nicotine. Well intentioned members of the public will often ask 'should you be smoking/drinking' and are suddenly faced with what appears to be a seething, manic, psychotic. The simple answer is I've survived 17 strokes I think I deserve a damned smoke and a beer to celebrate. Stroke survivors get tired quite easily. Best way to describe what's happening is...try patting your head, rubbing your stomach and trying to draw a figure of 6 with one foot while drawing a figure of 9 with the other, at the same time recite the 27.3 times table whilst trying to carry out a simple conversation with a person without letting them know you are also performing the above. When I am tired I will present symptoms of a stroke. My mouth will droop, my speech will slur, and the left hand side of my body will not operate correctly...as I'm left handed this complicates matters somewhat. Please do not call me an ambulance, I just need a rest, coffee or quick energy drink and a sit down for five minutes. If I'm really tired put me to bed...if you are a female nymphomaniac by all means join me, you will be amazed at how quickly I can recover my energy. Stroke survivors like to appear as 'normal' as possible to the public and we will often gently mock a physical blunder. Phrases you will hear come from my lips include 'I'm alright it's everybody else that's wrong' and 'I've had a stroke what's your excuse'. It's the little things that help us like being aware we've had a stroke and may be depressed, angry, bad tempered. Be aware of physical difficulties. For example I'm left handed and have had a left sided stroke, so when you pass me a pint, put it in my right hand as I will drop it. Three things I have learned from stroke. The first is that there are some wonderful fantastic people out there, real friends. The second is to laugh. Laugh long and hard at the stupid, idiotic, often banal, sometimes magnificent hand that life deals us. The third, don't let life's bastards grind you down. Its not a case of 'what you can't do', through people like Doug it's a case of 'look what I can do'!

I was also honour guard for the Queen in '77...although I was only 11 yrs old at the time and in the Boy Sprouts. I met Prince Philip when I had to escort Uncle Albert to the dedication of the National Destroyer Monument. I felt very out of place amongst all the veterans in their gongs and titfers. That was until some other berk escorting his Grandad turned up wearing a black gaberdine mac, sunglasses and a fedora. He looked like an extra from 'Allo 'Allo. Of course as the event was televised I just knew, it was destined...that the bloke in the spy outfit would be sat next to me! Philip was talking to everyone, just another veteran among many.

My main beef with Windows 8 Iain, is that it just does not run the software I use on a daily basis. Admittedly I use a lot of BETA programs but that's the nature of my business. I get presented with an animation, film or 3D problem and have to find the easiest, quickest and most cost effective solution. Windows 8 works and is designed in a way that is not conducive to a smooth workflow. It has some serious flaws handling game platforms, and 3D modelling software efficiently. I'll be sticking with boring old 7 until they come up with something that works...or at least has a 'make blockbuster, box office hit movie automatically' button!

Quite a few 'hairdryers' at the Lincoln showground this weekend Griff. I seriously interferred with the leather-clads street cred when a procession of them decided to enter the roundabout at the top of Tillbridge Lane when it was my right of way. A cheery 'beep beep' and a wave from behind the wheel of the 'coo coo' (its a Norfolk Qashqai) soon had beards wagging as the procession ground to a halt and they were overtaken by the peloton of the Lions charity pushbike race. Lycra intermingled with leather as they gave way to us and made the procession more colourful in a San Francisco sort of way. It was interesting to note that as I travelled down Tillbridge Lane (straight Roman Road) at 50 mph that the peloton was catching me up before I turned off for Sturton by Stow. I was quite familiar with riding the old 'treader' or 'push-rod' as a kid but was quite surprised at the turn of speed these guys were doing. Admittedly they were not hampered by the wicker fishing basket fastened to the back panier or fishing rods tied to the cross bar that I had to contend with, but they weren't 'alf shiftin'!

yes it is a white balance issue. Try this little trick before buying a new camera. From a cornflake packet cut out a cardboard hood you can fit in from of the camera. Use Blutack to fix it on until you get the desired length poking out in front of the camera. Long enough to cure the white out but not so long that the hood is in camera shot. Once you have the desired length for the cardboard hood and its in the right position use some electrical tape to fix it more firmly in place. Works a treat on the webcams I bought as security cameras for the back yard and works on the video camera too when I use it as a webcam and for shooting video.

Its them sandals and white socks that let him walk on water you know!

Ask Maurice Mynah...we wouldn't need the banana skins, Uncle Albert will occasionally just decide to put himself on the floor, and when he decides to do this he goes down like a sack of sh ...potatoes. The temptation, should he fall in the water, would be to put my foot on his head! Now there's an idea! I'm looking into designing a hand rail system to help the old duffer up and down the steps, one which will stop him swinging from the companion way doors now that I know how very little holds the doors to the jamb. Hand rails in the center and aft cockpits will be an easy matter...but getting hand rails up the center cockpit steps and still allowing the doors to close is causing a headache.

I'm glad to say Windows 8 is not allowed anywhere near a computer of mine as it can't run animation software to save its life. I occasionally have to sort out the other half's Dad's laptop that runs windows 8...nightmare! I have a sneaking suspicion that Windows 8 was designed by a cack handed idiot with a tendency to turn off lights when he enters a darkened room and keeps all of the things that he uses on a daily basis buried under two tonne of concrete on a separate continent to the one he lives on. On a slightly different tack I had a very very brief meeting with a numpty trying to sell me Apple computers. "They can't run the software I use!" I explained to the salesman. "But you can run an emulator and then run the software." "No!" I said. "But you get a free iphone." "No!" I said "But all the right people have them." "Wrong!"

Just the three I'm afraid...well I suppose two and a different answer but I'm classing it as three. I got the e's one, and the lions. My three consecutive days would be Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day.

I had a MOB overboard experience with the lad. On day two of an four night cruise I was getting sick to death of telling him to put his life jacket on. Leaving Ranworth and half way down the dyke I thought I heard someone say the dogs name. Thinking that the mutt had fallen overboard I looked over the cockpit side to see the dog (wearing his life jacket) looking at the lads head bobbing in the water, looking back at me, then looking back at the lad as if to say 'Have you seen that pillock? What did he do that for?'. I stopped RT and took a second to assess the situation. The lad was not wearing his life jacket, but other than shock and a gob full of water he was treading water. I shut off RT's engine as I did not want the lad swimming up to the stern and the prop. Nipping forward I dropped the mud weight, and then back into the sternwell where we have one of those horseshoe belts connected to some good quality rope which I threw out to the lad. Opened the stern doors and hoisted the lad back on board. I will admit taking my time in doing this. I was assessing the situation all of the time BUT there was a lesson to be learned here and the lad will admit he learned it well. The weather was hot, the water was freezing cold. Six inches below the surface the water is as black as ink. Where he thought there would be no current...there was a strong current pushing into the Broad. The water was deeper than he believed it to be. When you hit cold water...you can't breath. A hot shower and sweet tea soon had him sorted... and now he never goes on deck without his life jacket. But with Uncle Albert soon to arrive back on RT I am having some serious concerns with regard to his safety should he fall into the water. Yes he has a life jacket but I'm more concerned on retrieving him from the drink should he fall in. I know from experience, that getting him on his feet from an armchair can be an immense strain on my back. Pulling him out of the water will be virtually impossible on my own. Getting him to use a boarding ladder would mean me leaving the boat to enter the water to guide his feet from below onto the steps. Even then I doubt he would be able to pull his own weight up onto the ladder. The only thought that comes to my mind should the pratt fall in is tow him behind the boat to the nearest slipway or boatyard with a crane.

Just to report large delta winged aircraft flying over Gainsborough Lincolnshire around 4pm this afternoon, seemed to be heading along the flight path usually taken by aircraft heading for the army base at Kirton Lindsey. Looked and sounded like a Vulcan but unfortunately had no camera to photograph it.

Thanks for the good wishes everyone. Toby has spent most of the rest of the day sprawled on the sofa and in his usual spot sat on my window ledge. He seems no worse for wear, having gone for his usual walk through the woods this evening and wolfed down his tea. Although I have to say he is more cuddly than usual. Fortunately we have a good vet who prescribed and administered some eyedrops and clipped Toby's toenails while administering oxygen and bringing his temp down. I was expecting a big bill but was pleasantly surprised by only having to pay £32. The vet has told us to monitor him closely over the weekend and record any fits before bringing him immediately to the surgery, but above all keep him relaxed. I took this photo as I type this...paws in the air, tongue hanging out, do you think Toby is relaxed enough?