Friday, April 27, 2007

hundreds and thousands

Last night I learned that if you drop a jar of "hundreds and thousands" onto a tiled floor then it takes over an hour to clean them up. I also learned that a hover is no use as when it passes over the tiny sweets it fires them round the room like a machine gun.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

stamp stamp stamp stamp

I bought a date stamp yesterday. Its great, I've been date stamping everything I can get my hands on.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Hold the page

Bookmark - designed for an exhibition of artist created bookmarks at Leeds Library. The call asked that you look at ways to use the bookmark as a source of inspiration to create new work and to recirculate ideas. My design has holes, which when overlaid onto the page create an abstract poem from the book being read. The user is then asked to write this poem on a scrap of paper and leave in the book for the next person to find. If you'd like a bookmark yourself, then click here to download and print one out.

ps - the holes are a nightmare to cut out - my fingers are still killing me

pps - I think I'll start posting links to other sites that i like at the bottom of posts. Like for example today go visit -

Monday, April 16, 2007


We had a grand time in Cambridge. Only there three days but we managed to cram lots in - a massage on my shoulder, a punt, assisting the sausage man, port in the guest lodge of st johns collage, a wander at night around the bridge of sighs, a wedding in the grand hall, books from the market, many hours of sleeping in the sun and a visit to some baby ducks in the Botanic Gardens. I think Ann liked the ducks the best.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

When i grow up

I've always been suspicous of people who say they can read your fortune.

Firstly because I don't believe they actually can. (For if they can see the future, why are none of them millionaires on the lottery.)

My second concern is that if it does works, and they really can see what is going to happen to me, do I really want to know anyway, or would knowing what the future holds take all the fun out of it?

I need to start making some proper pictures. These little doodles are just not real work.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

The priest in the night

Two nights ago I went to meet this journolist for a quick drink after work and to chat about his new book.Then I went to Anns to pick up an empty bbq gas cylinder.

Then I went to ASDA where despite only planning on buying one thing, I became zombified for nearly an hour and a half. When I finally went over to pay for all my items. The girl at the counter had lost her voice. Resulting in much comedy as I can't understand a word shes trying to whisper to me. A very stilted conversation follows.

Eventually I leave and drive to the flat, where I get gav to give me a hand up the stairs with my purchases. I stick a lasange in the oven and go to park the car.

As I drive round the corner I meet my mate Duire. Durie has been at a NHS training class where he and his fellow nurses have been learning to do self defence. The class finished at 2pm and the nurses have all been drinking since then. He is pretty hammered, giggling and stepping on and off the pavement. I go over to chat to him.

We are standing having a laugh when we hear someone calling over to us for help. We look round but can't see anyone. The call comes again and this time we spy a head poking over the bonnet of a car. We walk over. There is a large man the size and shape of robbie coltrane with crazy birds nest hair. He is sitting on one of those motorised vechicles for the disabled. He is dressed in full kilt and jacket which is covered in various scottish and religious pins. He is also a priest.

Turns out, he is having vechicle trouble. The motorised machine keeps conking out. He asks if we can give him a small push to get it going. We are rather sceptical of this working as the cart is battery powered but we agree. We position our selves at the back and on the count of three we push and push and push but nothing happens appart from the veins in our necks popping out. "Oh wait" calls the priest, "I need to turn it on to get it to move. Lets try again"We're knackered already and Durie is still hammered and sniggering. He keeps looking around and saying we are on TV. I shush him.

We push again and after a few second it does start to move. It is so blooming heavy, its like moving a boulder. The cart then starts and he begins to drive off slowly. Thank goodness. "Cheers lads" he calls.

We look at each other with glad thats over expressions. Suddenly CRUNCH. The cart has stopped again. It has only moved about 2 metres "Oh lads, lads can you give me another push." So we go over and push again. Again it starts, again he drives off, again it gets 2 metres, again it breaks down. It does this over and over, each time it travels less and less.

We keep asking him questions about the cart. Is there a brake on it or something as its hardly moving when we push. Is it out of batteries, has it done this before. He doesn't often really listen and it seems his focus is quite wandering.

Eventually after 15 mins of pushing we manage to get the information that he only bought the cart today and is driving it home for the first time. And that he stays a good twenty five minute walk from where we are. We point out we can't push him all that way as its taken us over twenty mints to get 2 metres. We suggest a taxi but he says, thats what the subway men tried and no taxi would take him???

We then notice he has a box with all the cars kit and instructions in it and we suggest we push him into a nearby petrol station and see if they'll let him charge it up. He agrees and we begin pushing again. We then discover that he's got a flat tyre.

Duire is sniggering away and keeps muttering that its a setup and that the guy is a faker. I point out that he is a nurse and has a duty of care to help folk. And that the only way to find out if he is a faker is to call him on it and that I don't think either of us has the balls to accuse a disabled priest of being a liar.

As we near the petrol station I run ahead to check with them its ok. I go into the shop and say "excuse me mate, I've got a slight situation outside I was wondering if you could help me with. We've got a disabled priest in a kilt on a moterised cart and its broken down, could he come in a charge it up."The guy does look at me like i'm a mental but he agrees to help. He joins us in pushing. The three of us push and push and get him towards the door.

At this point the priest says. "Would it be easier if I got off and walked?" Is this guy taking the mick? We say yes and so he gets off and holds onto the handle bars as we push. He also turns the ignition key and the cart kicks on and zooms ahead dragging him along. It misses the door and bumps into a wall.We have to reverse it back into the shop. He hasn't quite mastered the contorls yet and it takes awhile to get in the door. Much to the annoyance of the customers trying to get in and the customers trying to get out.

Once inside we drive over to the nearest plug socket and he opens the case to get the charging cables. The cable is only about 30cms long. The socket is about a metre up the wall, it doesn't reach. The assistant goes to get an extentsion cable. But the priest refuses to use it as the one bit of advise the second hand cart salesman gave him was - don't use an extension cable.

We hunt the shop for a more accessible socket. Eventually, behind a display of easter eggs we find one. But to get to it, the cart has to be turned around. The priest begins to attempt a three point turn in the aisle. I finally loose it as he manages to get it stuck at 90 degrees in the aisle like a scene from austin powers. He also doesn't have full control so he keeps driving full force, into sheleves of sweets and easter eggs, knocking them down. He edges forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards. The pressure cooker of emotion is to much for me and i just can't help but begin to giggle. The effort of trying to keep it in, causes tears to run down my face.

I compose myself long enough to make our apologies, hand over responsibility to the shop assistants and leg it.

Laughing Durie and I part at the door and I wander home to find my lasange burned. Doh
EDIT: In further news. Last night while we were having a pizza making party, ann nipped out to move her car and went into the petrol station to buy some tomato sauce and the priest was still sitting exactly where we had left him, in the same outfit. Has he even been home? Will he be there tonight? Will the excitement never end?

EDIT: No he wasn't there and he has not been since. Sorry this is an older image but when I saw the title today and drew and image it was identical to the little bean man riding the bike and it reminded me of this post and this funny story and thought people would enjoy it. Happy Easter.

Monday, April 02, 2007


It is a funny thing that if two women are wearing the same outfit then it is a social disaster and the two women will make snidy comments about each other all night. Where if two men are wearing the same shirt, there is a every chance they will be best friends for life.

Had a fun weekend, planting a hundred seeds of different kinds of veggie in pots on the roof. I've expanded the selection this year to include corn, courgettes and parsnips. Fingers crossed they work. I was also at a 9 year olds birthday party where we played football for hours. My legs are killing me.
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