Hotel Humdinger

It's my mother's birthday in a few days' time, and I was looking around for a little something to buy her as a bit of fun. Since she has a sizeable garden and an interest in wildlife - especially birds - we like to visit garden centres for this kind of thing. The fact that me and Julie like browsing them ourselves is beside the point of course (coughs uncomfortably). Another reason is that I'm always on the lookout for a relatively cheap squirrel-proof bird feeder, as Mum is forever despairing of their habit of destroying or even stealing the feeders (see HERE).

Once in the wildlife section of the nursery, though, I tend to be distracted by all the feeders and wotnots. I'm of the opinion that creating somewhere to live for some of the overlooked creatures is hugely important. Bees are on the decline globally, and humans are destroying habitats daily, whether directly by building or farming on it, or indirectly, by taking the resources or vital parts of the ecological chain.

One of the main problems in urban situations is that most people don't realise how much their manicured gardens or slabbed-over patios create a desert of living spaces for the animals we are displacing. The daft thing is, many of these bugs and other creatures are beneficial and/or harmless to humans. Craneflies (daddy longlegs) look creepy with their spindly legs and bodies, but they are vegetarian and won't harm you. Hoverflies look a little like wasps, but they are important pollinators, almost as important as bees (plus, they don't sting!).

There are some amazing ideas that various people and companies have come up with to help these garden helpers; if you google 'insect hotel' in image search, then you'll see what I mean. In the meantime, at this garden centre recently, I saw this one made by Neudorff.

It's a wonderful thing, providing refuge for various beneficial bugs. I would like one for our garden and I wouldn't mind betting my mother would, too. At a distance from the house though, and Julie was even less keen on the idea...

Gah.

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On a related note, it's that time of year when people like to have bonfires. However, nice as they are to watch, they are deathtraps for wildlife. If they see a pile of wood with lots of gaps, they are going to crawl in and make a nest. Please read this letter from the British Hedgehog Preservation Society and remember that other animals will use bonfires in the same way.

See here for a larger view http://preview.tinyurl.com/hogletter

The extreme egg fiasco

We have a problem. We like food. Unfortunately, we're not too good at controlling what we eat, nor the quantities thereof. Oh, and by the way, that statement doesn't just apply to my wife and me, but Western civilisation in general. We have come to consume too much of the wrong things and too much in general.

I'm currently trying to work with a dietician. Julie, on the other hand, tried that and various diets a long time ago. In the end, we agreed surgery was the only option. Julie had a gastric bypass, a version known as the Roux-en-y procedure.

This, without a word of exaggeration, has changed her life completely. It's entirely probable that it saved her life. Compulsive eating is a psychological problem, one that our primitive bodies are ill-equipped to cope with.

For those who can't stomach (sorry) looking at graphic details of operations, the notion is a simple one. Basically, the stomach is cut in half and the appropriate tubing is connected up to a much smaller gastric pouch.
Initially, the diet is severely limited, but with time, the patient can once again eat much of what they did before - just in drastically smaller portions. Even then, the stomach is still an elastic organ. It can stretch, and does. However, even taking that into account, one would still never be able to eat the massive portions as before.

It's a difficult situation, not just for the patient. A lot of human social interaction is based around the consumption of food and drink, and most pubs, cafes and restaurants don't really understand the concept of needing a tiny portion. Indeed, many get rather shirty when you ask for a child's portion when you have clearly left childhood far too long ago.

So how small does the stomach become after the operation?
About the size of a hen's egg.

Seriously.

Obviously, you're never going to be able to take in what you could, so if you have this op, then you're going to have to take a daily dose of vitamin & minerals in tablet form..
As I mentioned, the stomach may regain some magnitude, but only in a small way. Maybe twice the size of an egg, maybe a bit more.

It's not an exact thing, because everyone is different. Some keep their diet to minimal levels, some find they can't eat certain foods any more; some can't handle sweet stuff, others have trouble with greasy food - oh and it really doesn't take much alcohol either.

So, when Julie and me were in a cafe having a bite to eat, I was ploughing through a nice panini. My wife, however, was gingerly picking at hers. Oh, she was enjoying it, but necessity meant that she had to take it carefully, or she would end up with a side-effect known as 'dumping' - although this is more usually encountered in association with sugary foods.

With this in mind, we began to discuss how much her stomach will have changed in the few years since her operation.

...ummm...
...ok...

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Just in case you didn't know, the World Book Night Prize draw is now closed. We will be filming a clip today for the drawing of the winners and posting the results tomorrow.

World Book Night 2013 - what? MORE goodies?

Wotcha folks. World Book Night 2013 is nearly upon us, and preparations have notched up another gear. Bookmarks have been created, printed (after a frantic search for some decent card) and laminated and various prizes gathered.

Oh yes. And I collected the twenty copies of The Eyre Affair from our local library. Julie was a little concerned about me carrying the box home - via a meandering walk through town - but it was well within my capabilities. OK, so my arms were cramping something rotten about an hour after we got home.

You may be interested to know that we will be kicking things off in fine style here on Julie's Gems with a video presentation of the book and goodies we will be giving away. If past clips are anything to go by, then it should be suitably shambolic. Between my general lack of preparation and Julie's willingness to subvert the proceedings at any and all possibility, it'll be a miracle if the camera doesn't burst into flames in a desperate, suicidal moment of self-immolation.

Back to the prizes.

As you already know, Anyone that can't make it to Roots Urban Cafe on Tuesday 23rd April (11am GMT) has the chance of winning one of five copies of a Jasper Fforde book. And I mean anyone. Whoever you are, wherever in the world, you are eligible to enter. If your name is pulled out of our hat, then we will send you prize to you, be it Shanghai, Stockholm or Swindon.

On top of that, on lucky person will nab themselves a veritable grab-bag of bits and bobs. So far, we have told you about Skallagrigg, Donald McGill and Grieg. Now, I want to introduce you to Stel Pavlou and Nicholas Parsons.

Stel Pavlou came to prominence by having a hefty hand in scripting the film The 51st State, starring Samuel L. Jackson. Not long after that, Pavlou published his first novel, Decipher.

Published two years before Dan Brown's execrable The DaVinci Code, Decipher reads like a blockbuster movie, far more coherent and exciting than its soon-to-be rival.
Like Skallagrigg, it's out of print, so I'm afraid you will be in receipt of a loved, but decent copy of the book. I'm really hoping you like it as much as me.

Nicholas Parsons, the man whose name invites plenty of schoolboy titters (if you don't know, don't ask),* heads a comedy panel show on BBC Radio 4 called Just A Minute. Various quick-witted celebrities are invited to discuss various topics for a minute without repetition, deviation or hesitation. You'd think this should be easy enough, except that everyone else is simultaneously trying to put them off by hectoring and challenging them over the oddest points...
Hmm.
I think the best thing to do is to invite you to have a listen to Paul Merton and Julian Clary doing their best.

There you go. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

Anyhow, this brings me to our next prize, a compilation of the best bits of the show from 2009

Spread over 2 CDs, this will keep you entertained for a little while, one would hope.

Right - that's all for now. The rest of the details will wait until Tuesday, and the video.

Tata for now!

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*No, I mean it. Don't.

Say you, say me... say what?

Julie and me were talking the other day about her Gems. Now, the thing about situations like this is that even discussing the Gems tends to result in more Gems being produced. Obviously, this is not a problem - unless I find myself not being able to keep up, or I have left my notepad at home.
Sometimes, when Julie is in full flow, or has just come up with something especially mind-bending, I find myself clouding over, my brain having had some kind of 'blue screen of death'. It's at that point that my brain and Julie's seem to suddenly synch together.

This actually happened on this occasion; it seems that merely discussing Gems is enough to trigger a Gem-fugue in another person. Julie was concerned with making sure that she was given due credit for the things she had spoken, and I wanted to assure her that this was the case.

Did I say I wanted to emphasise it?
>cough<

Premature anticipation

A couple of weeks ago, we went to Canterbury for the day. It's a very impressive place, with many a fine building to admire. Obviously, there is the cathedral, but that is soooo passée. No, we took far more enjoyment from the old, old buildings that are still around. By far the most interesting of them was this one.

Tucked away, but only a short walk from the cathedral is this little gem. How perfectly bizarre and yet quintessentially English, wot?

For us, though, Canterbury is quite a drive away. With that in mind, it was decided that we would have to leave pretty early in the morning to make a decent day of it.
I'm not a morning person.
With that in mind, then, when Julie felt like being playful, I was not what you could call receptive...

Platypuses. Now with inferiority complexes

Yes, it's the return of the Platyposts!
As if the poor beast wasn't enough of an outsider, eh? Restricted in their habitat to one of the less-welcoming islands in the world, an appearance that even the chimera-mad Victorians thought was too unbelievable and one of the incredibly small number of venomous mammals on this planet. Mind you, on Tasmania, venom, poison (yes, there is a difference) and simple aggression seem almost de rigueur.
On top of all that, they have Julie (and, I have to admit, plenty of others) to contend with. I mean, if the platypus didn't already have an identity crisis courtesy of its looks, then Julie somehow mistaking it for almost every other creature under the sun is really going to mess with its mind. Remember the conversation I had with her back in January? For those who want to stick with this page, here's the majority of our exchange.

(By the way, as Kevin, one of the winners in our recent
prize draw will know already, the above image
is the first official Julie's Gems bookmark)

Yeah. Still gets me every time, that one does.
And it gets worse. Not content with taxonomical confusion, Julie has now decided it's time to get personal.
I can't recall the original conversation, but we were looking at a series of pictures of baby animals and going through the obligatory 'oohs' and 'aahs'. And then we came to this one.

Considering the recent brou-ha-ha about platypuses, this picture tickled me. I especially loved the way their skin appears to be several sizes too large for them. Julie, however, was not impressed.

There's just no convincing some folk, is there? I nearly asked what she thought they could have been instead, but I've just finished my medication...

Almost Gems, but most definitely a put-down.

Hello, and welcome to a week of Scrabble-themed Gems, a week in which I prove that we can be both as bad as each other in so many ways. We both cheat, for example. Mind you, when I say 'cheat', what we actually do is look at the letters we have on our racks and try and come up with a possible combination. In this manner, we hope to happen upon a word that is not in our vocabularies, but is most definitely contained in the Scrabble word book.

For us - and my folks - it's the ultimate arbiter and referee. If it's in there, it stays on the board. This gives rise to a common exchange, following a placement of a bizarre word.

"Qibla?? What's that?"
"It's in the book, that's what it is."
"...right."

The thing is, though, there will be times when those seven tiles on your rack give you absolutely no inspiration at all. Granted, a lot of the time, it'll be something like 'AAGHUUU' or the teeth and tongue-rending "BDDFQVX'. However, I find I can wind up with a sweet-looking set of letters - and maybe even one of the blanks - and.. and... Crud. How is it I can't make anything larger than three letters long...? Or, to put it another way...

I hope you know what I mean. Julie does, but she's hardly sympathetic. Or coherent.

I know, I know. It all makes sense, doesn't it? It's just that when you first look at it or hear it you can't process it, can it? Oh... it can. I guess it's just me then...
Sigh...

Julie and the great platypus debate

Cyfarchion o Gymru! I'm in Cardiff today, on another part of the second Spikeyboy tour. And yet - I'm still managing to update, despite not having a laptop or smartphone. Ain't I good to you? Then too, there was the fact I really needed to get this Gem/set of Gems up and ready fairly quickly, or else they would lose relevance.

On Friday, Julie's Gems introduced you to a lateral-thinking young chap by the name of Scott. Apparently innocently, Scott likened the object of his friend's affections to a platypus, in that she too was unique. The thing is, what with all the different approaches by various people to this subject, all making their own Gems, I felt there wasn't room to add a photo of the poor animal, and instead gave a short description and a link to its Wiki-page.
As it turns out, this may have been a serious oversight on my part, as Julie only took away the sketchiest of ideas of what a platypus looks like. Then again, considering just how much material I came away with, it may have been the ultimate blessing in disguise. You see, Julie had read the post and was wondering about the platypus's appearance...

I mean, seriously. I'm sure I said 'mammal' when I described it last time... didn't I?

Er.. what? Time for a little comparison, methinks.

A giant tortoise - with a human for some scale.

Two platypuses - being held by a human. For scale.

So - what do you say to that, Julie?

Seriously?? Surely you can't get any worse..?

<facepalm>
We were talking about all the above while I let my pen cool down, and as I was reading them out so Julie could also have a giggle (believe me, she does laugh at herself, too), Julie asked me what the difference in appearance was, and what I objected to, concerning her defining common point. When I said that while platypuses may be fairly low to the ground, a high-domed shell is one of the major features of a giant tortoise. Sadly, one of Julie's defining features is a general unwillingness to let go of an idea.

Uh... what? Um.. I suppose you have a point, love, but I think the animal protection societies might come down on you like a ton of bricks...
Back home, Julie was determined to make her point and was busy googling images of platypuses and tortoises. After a slight confusion thanks to a rogue picture of an echidna (also a monotreme), Julie felt satisfied she had been vindicated.

On the other side of the table, I gave her The Look and reached for my pen once more. When I went around to have a look, it turned out, Julie was mixing up tortoises for turtles. To avoid yet more animal-related shenanigans, I avoided the matter completely, by giving her a helpless look and walking away.

Einstein gets a headache.

During a working, week, our habit is to sit down quietly for a while when we get home. Sometimes, it's on our own, sometimes we sit together and have a cup of tea and a chat on how our days have been. For me, this normally doesn't take long, as work in a warehouse doesn't lend itself to stimulating conversation. Julie works in a more dynamic environment and there's usually plenty to talk about; she's always busy and there's plenty of idiots to laugh/moan about.
One day, we sat in the lounge and Julie was rather subdued. Concerned, I asked if she was alright. She was fine, but it appears that she'd had something of a hectic day and was pretty knackered. Then again, as Julie put it....

Julie saw me giving her The Look and said, "What? That makes sense, doesn't it?"
No, love, I'm afraid it doesn't. I mean, I know Einstein said that time was relative, but I don't think he meant it that way...
Besides which, hasn't some clever set of scientists just proved that time travel is impossible? Spoilsports...

Hedgehogs and their habits.

When I met Julie, I'd already had a thing about hedgehogs. I'm not sure why, but I began doodling and suddenly found myself coming up with a whole range of odd 'hoggy characters living in a forest with a tree-god and a homicidal giant snail. It was ok, but my artistic talents are very limited and I just don't have the patience to develop them any further. To prevent any further questions, here's the best of them.

Despite this, I found myself becoming fond of the original critters and began collecting various hedgehog ornaments. When Julie saw my collection, she loved it, and began adding to it herself. Thus began a shared interest bordering upon obsession. The only blight upon this is the fact that we live in a rented terraced house and therefore have pretty much absolutely no chance of a 'hoggy visitor in our back garden (pity - it'd keep the slugs and snails off my cauliflowers...).
A friend of mine, however, has had a number of hedgehogs in her garden and introduced me to Hedgehog Street, a site dedicated to halt the decline in the hedgehog population. Naturally interested, I sent off for an information pack, which arrived in today's post. After I read through it, Julie had a look and saw the little cards showing some of the annual activities of the hedgehog.

After I recovered, I had to admit it was a classic and it proved once more that we're perfectly suited to each other. In fact, if push came to shove, I think I would have to admit the fact I am just a little jealous at her free-wheeling ability to free-associate images like that.
And yes, she does generally win each game of word association.

Compatibility screening is going too far

Humans are odd folks. Thousands of years of evolution - physical and social - and we end up with people who can talk for ages without saying anything worth mentioning (shooting for a little irony there). Quite often, this will usually take place via a telephone call - especially when you've run out of real news to impart to a relative and you then spend the next quarter of an hour saying 'goodbye'.

It also happens a lot when you bump into someone you know and go through the standard phrases, such as "Oh my god, how long has it been?" and "Alright mate - how's it going?"* Me and my colleagues are guilty of taking this to a highly ridiculous degree - I work in a warehouse and we are, quite understandably, often seeing each other throughout the day. The thing is, we'll often treat each encounter like we haven't met for some time. With one workmate, I ask him "Hello there - did you have a nice weekend?" regardless of what day of the week it is.

Yes, I'm nuts.

There's one commonly-used meeting phrase I have yet to mention - for good reason. Julie and myself often engage in the 'just-met' banter when we're out and about. This time, we were in a shop, queuing to pay and then Julie initiated this exchange....

Bear in mind we were in the middle of a shop queue at this point. I'll admit to having been completely flummoxed by Julie's comeback, although I'm not sure what got me more; what she meant to say or what she actually said...

**EDIT**
Sorry about this folks, I forgot that not everyone may know the acronyms VD or VDU
VD clinic = somewhere that treats people suffering from venereal diseases.
VDU = Visual Display Unit (ie a computer monitor)

*As Terry Pratchett once noted, all these empty phrases mean are "Hello, I'm alive and so are you"

Talking of time spent talking...

I'm going to have to apologise here, I think.

Actually, I think I'm going to have to ask you to take a few stiff drinks (or whatever loosens up those mental muscles for you) before you read today's Gem.
On the other hand, there may be many people who, upon reading this will take it in and wonder just what makes it so special.

And right there is the reason for my apology. I have read it countless times and each time, my brain threatens to turn to cream cheese and dribble out of my ears. The problem is that there is nothing actually wrong with the sentence in any respect. It is grammatically accurate (a first for Julie), it makes good use of various clauses and is, all in all, a perfectly complete sentence.

And yet...
Gah. Just read it, OK? See if you can work out what it is that makes it difficult to follow.

Help please? I have a headache as it is, and this is not helping one bit. And if I have just condemned your own brains to lactic liquefaction, then I really am truly sorry.

(ps - bonus Gem over on the FB fan page as per usual)

Talking your way into the asylum

A few people have wondered about how Julie has reacted to this baring of her delightfully silly soul. On the whole, it's not a problem, but when I give a laughing sigh and dip my hand into my pocket for my pen and pad, there's a distinct 'oh no' moment. Usually, all my wife says is, "Oh no, you don't want to write that down." Occasionally, though, she'll come up with another Gem, even as I'm trying to write down the previous one...

Honestly, sometimes it's all I can do to keep up with the woman...