Love is a many splendid thing

Recently there's been something funny going on...

Over the last year or two, I've noticed that a large amount of my friends, both christian and non-christian, are getting engaged, married and starting to have kids.
It's hard not to sound envious when talking about the couples, and when most weekends this year are taken up with engagement parties, weddings, stag parties, and even the odd hen party, there is the odd occasion when I find myself thinking of that old maxim usually applied to women in this situation, "Always the bridesmaid and never the bride".

photo by Photo Forrester

Of course, I haven't been cast in the role of bridesmaid for any of these occasions, but I got to wondering why there is such a distinctive difference between a woman who doesn't get married (Spinster) and a man who does likewise (Bachelor). Why one is associated with an unhealthy obsession with cats and the other conjures up images of expensive suits, an excellent knowledge of wine and a reckless abandon with women's hearts, is a mystery. The origins of the "bachelor" degree and its relationship with bachelor status is equally as puzzling.

Last year I found out how expensive having a friend who is getting married is. I know they're dishing out thousands for the wedding, but being involved or even just attending is bound to cost a few pennies for everyone involved. I worked out that last year, attending a wedding worked out to be about £100 for accommodation, travel, wedding gift and dry cleaning. This price rose if I was invited to the stag do, and again for a hen do (it happens!). The average wedding last year cost me £150-£200, with this year looking to follow a similar pattern! It comes part and parcel with having friends from all over the country.

But at the end of the day, my friends are inviting me to be present at a pivotal part of their lives; and you can't put a price on the warmth of friendship. Especially if that friendship involves a hog roast.

It'll be a sad day if I ever have to turn down a wedding invitation.

Don't adjust your set

I know it's just been videos for a while, but videos can say so much more than a huge essay.

This is a video I stumbled upon when looking around Vimeo, and it is amazing.
It is a modern adaptation of the nativity story, using no words, but still all the characters are easily recognisable if you know the story.
Enjoy.

'Tis the season

Every month or so I make a few videos for an event called Alchemi. Working on a format that is used by many larger churches, the sermon or talk is superseded by a short title package whose function it is to introduce the topic that is to be covered in an entertaining, informative, provocative or otherwise thought-provoking manner. The video sometimes poses questions to be answered in the talk, or may just set the scene and tone, providing continuity for a series of talks.

Even though I make teasers, trailers and intro videos for these events, I don't tend to showcase them beyond their intended audience. This is usually because I don't think the videos would fit when taken out of context or just aren't good enough to be widely broadcasted. The intro video for tonight's event is one of the few exceptions to this, as it doesn't need a context and I think can hold it's own.

So instead of waiting until after the event to show off the video, I've published it early.
I hope you enjoy it.



Soundtrack: Instrumental cover of "My Almost Lover"
Performed by Iwillbot http://www.youtube.com/WillTingMusic
Original by A Fine Frenzy http://www.afinefrenzy.com/

A Quick Note

I'm well overdue some real fat, on-the-bone content about what I've been up to I know, but with Panto season ramping up I've hardly had any time to do anything,let alone blog bout all the things i've been doing.

BUT there is one thing that I want to mention, and that is the charity phenomenon of Movember.
You may notice that there is an increase of men in the month of november who sport some form of hair or stubble on their top lip. This all started in australia a few years ago with a group of friends, who subsequently decided that perhaps they could use the "Mo" (Aussie talk for moustache) to raise some funds for mens charities conducting research into Testicular and Prostate cancer.
This has now spread worldwide and this year, yours truly has been donning a caterpillar on my top lip for the cause. This has caused much interest at work, though mainly people have been trying to think whether i look more like a geography teacher, Ned Flanders or Ron Jeremy. (If you don't know him, I suggest you don't consult google images, or you may get a shock)

If you want to see some photos of my mo growing progress and maybe sponsor me, you can visit my movember page at http://mobro.co/lewzey

Here's a freebie.

Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Let's see. Over the past month or so I've been to two weddings, driven a canal boat. worked stupid amounts of overtime at work, seen a friend move into a new house, revisited my noise boy roots and become a year older.
Weddings first!
I always enjoy weddings to an extent, the pomp, the circumstance, the frippery and ceremony of it all, but for the first time I got enveloped into the proceedings as a Groomsman! Also a first was the fact that as well as attending the stag weekend, I also attended the hen weekend, but that's probably never going to occur again.

As well as being groomsman, getting the matching suit, cravat and buttonhole, I was also asked to read a poem during the ceremony. To give you a hint of how nervous I was, I was unintentionally singing with a tremolo in my voice! The poem was "Us Two" by A. A. Milne, who wrote the Winnie the Pooh books.

Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,

There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.


"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.


"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.


"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.


"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."


So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: 
"True,It isn't much fun for One, 
but Two,Can stick together, says Pooh, says he.
"That's how it is," says Pooh.

In case you didnt read it out loud the first time, revisit the first two lines and read them out loud. Imagine saying that in an anglican church!
The bride and groom hadn't until that moment heard the poem spoken, and were in fits of giggles most of the way through because of it, and apologised at the reception.

Apart from that slight lapse, I can say that the wedding was a great success, and the groom did marvellously, he was most definitely the most nervous groom in history.

Hoist the mainsail! swab the decks! Yar har har, and other piratey-navy-type things!

Just after the aforementioned wedding, myself and five other landlubbers took a few days off to explore the Avon and Kennet canal, thanks to some friends who lent us their boat

It was so nice to have a few days off; putt-putting at about 2-3mph, getting given regular cups of tea by the on-board catering team, and stopping at pubs along the way whenever it took our fancy (we stopped at every one). 

Most of us had a go at steering the boat, each for as long as their mettle could hold out, and we only had two accidental bumps (and one intentional brush with some overhanging branches for the benefit of the girls who were sunbathing).

I do miss being on the boat, and it took a few days for me to stop swaying when on dry land, much like when you get out of a lift and you feel like you're still moving. I'd be glad to go back sometime and head in the opposite direction, towards a stretch of 26 locks in 6-7 miles of canal. That would be a fun day or so!

Of course there are bits that i haven't mentioned, but they're either for another day or just to illustrate how busy august-september was.

So that was "yesterday". 

Today has been a day of complete rest, the first I've had for maybe three weeks, and I can tell you it's been great. 

And as for tomorrow? Tomorrow hasn't been written yet, I'll wait and see what happens.

Diolch, a Nos Da

Well it's happened. I arrived just under 5 years ago as a sprightly young thing from the green fields of surrey, into this great unknown province of the british empire, and left a much different man.

Almost as if Cardiff didn't want me to leave just yet, my house keys went missing on the day of the move. Well, I say on that day, but because i never take keys off my keyring, i naturally assumed that they were still there. So after a 3 hour, 180 mile drive, we arrived to find that my key had slipped off in the night.
Luckily though my housemate, though she had recently moved to bristol, happened to be working at a conference in a nearby hotel just 5 minutes down the road! A quick trip to the key cutters via the hotel and we were back in business, but not before a trip to Central Bar Wetherspoons.

We spent maybe 3 or 4 hours packing and cleaning, cramming the car with every possession I hadn't already smuggled across the border in previous visits. The only things that had to be left behind (apart from some furniture and computers I gave away) were a pair of old speakers that were found in a shed back in my student hovel. The circle of life decreed we leave them outside the house to await their next owner as there was no room in the car (though they might find them a bit lacking in high-end as I fitted a crossover to turn them into subs).

Now I've got to figure out how much of the stuff I brought back I actually want to keep, giving bits to charity shops, church, friends, etc so that the next move will hopefully be a better fit.

My housing contract has ended, I've sent the key back. The only thing I haven't done is tell Cardiff council I won't be voting there any more. Chances are they've lost my details again and won't miss me anyway, englishmen only slow down the devolution process.

Though I may be gone, I have not left. In the words of Evita, "Don't cry for me Wales, I'll be back a week saturday."

Or something like that.

Strawberries and Cream

Wimbledon is fast approaching. The world famous sporting event that sits beside Ascot as one of the more refined pursuits of athleticism available in britain. Apart from living in cardiff during the six nations, I've never worked or lived near to the centre of a major spectacle such as this, which is leading me to wonder what, if any, effect the weeks of Wimbledon might have on my work life.
In a first for the sport, this year the BBC is offering tennis coverage in 3D, and all without needing a subscription (but of course you still need the 3D HDTV and 3D set-top box, which will set you back a few quid). This jump in viewing technology is probably the biggest thing to happen to the sport since centre court got a roof built over it.

I probably won't get to see any of the 3D coverage, or much of the live bog-standard 2D SD coverage, as I'll be working a mile or so away, but this video has got me a little excited, I just hope that I'm still able to get a seat on the train with all these tourists swanning around with their huge sunglasses and punnets of strawberries.

As June swings into view on the 400 metre running track of 2011, I begin the process of figuring out ho to move my remaining belongings out of Cardiff, changing my dozens of contact addresses and looking or somewhere else to dump all my things so I don't end up being the straw that breaks my parents house.
It's strange going back to cardiff on the rare visits I make. Even after living there for 5 years, and only being away for 3 months, I sometimes feel like I've been gone for years and that it was a place from a dream or a past life. Or maybe it's just because getting there takes so long that it feels like a lifetime!

The start of June also ushers in the end of my three month probationary period at work, and the start of my proper contract as a member of permanent staff! It was a pretty safe bet that the management would deign to keep me aboard the good ship White Light, but it's still nice to have got my appraisal out of the way so I don't have to keep wondering when it might happen.

Though this job and the associated riches and comforts it brings with it is a welcome change from floating on the financial breeze that comes with freelancing, I will admit that being a monday to friday worker wasn't where I was seeing myself when I looked forward in January. I've now got a commute, a lunch hour, a swipe card, and even an oyster card! I'm just thankful I don't have a suit and a desk to complete the set,  that could be disastrous!

Summertime, and the living is easy

Gordon Bennet, it's been a bit warm recently hasn't it?! I'm not  a fan of overly hot...heat, but summer sun is great under a shady tree with a book and a cuppa.

I've been getting plenty of sun after a week in Somerset with my old you group from home, but this time I'm playing the role of the leader (eep!). It was great to be back at Spring Harvest at Butlins in Minehead, back to the old haunts like the beach, the ice cream hut and the Poundshop. But the best thing about the whole week has probably been finding out what it is like to be on the other side of the age gap, seeing what my youth leaders had to go through when I was a whipper-snapper at SH.

This time around it was 22 kids versus 6 leaders all sharing 4 chalets, which made for some interesting balancing acts and times that were sometimes akin to herding cats.

The week has been a great start to the summer months, we just have to get through the traditionally rainy april, then dash through the month of maybugs, and arrive puffing and panting at the official start of the summer.

I just hope my hayfever doesn't get any worse, my eyes have been streaming while writing this, for which i blame the plants in the kitchen. Curse them!

Take a deep breath

It feels like I've been working solidly for weeks on end, but in reality I think I'm just experiencing what normal people call "day-to-day living".  Five days on and two days off? Repeating again and again? That's inhuman!

Having saturdays off is a great relief as it allows me to take stock of my progress in the week, see where I've learnt new things, where I've made stupid mistakes and try and create a sort of chart (in the executive boardroom in my head) of how I'm progressing in my "Trainee" role.

I must say the most refreshing thing about having a real job is that i have actual, real money! Not that there's much of it to go around, but being able to predict my earnings helps when I think of the things I'd like to buy. Like a shiny new pocket watch for instance...

Sometimes I wonder if buying these old-mannish items is like wishing my life away, as if buying a pipe will get me a cottage, reading good books will get me a comfortable life and getting a pocket watch will get me a good wife and kids. Ha!

Oh my word, I've just seen the most amazing bassist on TV, he has a beard to rival dumbledore!

Read it and weep!

That's one thing I don't think I'lll have in my old age: a beard that could sink the Titanic. That would drive me nuts, and I wouldn't have the patience to comb it everyday.