DiggerLand

Why does THIS make me feel so profoundly depressed?
(Make sure your speakers are on)

Tonight's TV: Chuckle History X

Brave Buffalo Battle!

This is just incredible- And don't worry, the buffalo calf survives!

NEWSFLASH!: Hawking bullied in space!

Egg Update 7: Fowl play

I returned home from work this afternoon to discover a completely empty nest.

No idea what or who did this, but I'm going to find out and they're going to PAY.

























*UPDATE* It wasn't Michi ;-P

Egg Update 6: More Drama!

We have unconfirmed reports from Eleanor that Mum has brushed aside the original egg, leaving it somewhere behind the nest.

Maybe she has used her 'Sixth sense' as the lovely Ali mentioned and deemed it a lost cause.
We really should name the eggs to give these posts more emotive clout-
Answers on a postcard please! And you'll get to see your chosen name/names in nice shiny lettering on the 'Egg Status' section to the right!

Confirmation of the current situation to come ASAP...

Kostnice (Church of Bones), Czech Republic

Prague was rubbish.

I spent a weekend there about a year and a half ago on a company holiday. (I'm lucky enough to have two very astute and humanitarian company directors, who believe that content studio staff work better- so we are treated to yearly company holidays amongst other things- And you know what? It works! Up yours, AMEX et al!)

It is a city that has been defecated on by British stag weekend culture. Hordes of cretins pouring over on easyjet flights have forced beautiful, historic pieces of architecture to house KFCs and lapdancing clubs; every building in Wenceslas square flaunting gaudy neon signs.

Luckily, about an hour's train ride outside the city, there is a church practically made out of human bones.

In the 14th century, the Plague caused the cemetery there to overflow with corpses, eventually around 40,000 too many. The skeletons were stacked in the newly built ossuary in 1511 by a half-blind monk. (Cool and spooky huh?)

A wood carver and artist named Frantisek Rint was employed to turn the bones into sculptures.
When you walk into the ossuary, you are presented with a large set of steps leading down underground, as you descend, above you hang skulls, strung in chains like Christmas decorations.
The main chamber contains 4 colossal 'bells' of stacked bones and skulls- one in each corner. Truly stunning in their magnitude and holocaust-esque eeriness.

I found it a struggle to get my head around just how many real, complex lives they represented.



Looking around, the walls and alcoves are crammed with beautifully grotesque sculptures of huge chalices, coats of arms & crowns; And so, so many hanging chains of skulls. On the coat of arms there was, memorably, the figure of a bird, its wings the bones of a persons palm.

But the most impressive piece there was the Chandelier- Awesome and imposing, it teemed with detail, femurs and humeri dangling from it's vertebrae arms. It contains every bone in the human body.

Wicked.

Batrachomyomachia!

You remember my post about that crazy mouse riding across a pond on some frog's back?
Damien has pointed out that it is a photograph of an actual event!!!

See for yourself!


















Gosh! I didn't notice the crown before!

Froschmäusekrieg!

Egg Update 5: A miracle! A miracle!

I have just been to see if Mum has returned to the nest- No sign of her, and the egg is still lying on the cold bituchem, but wait! What's that? A new egg in the nest!
























Spurred on by fresh hope, I decided to break the rules (and I figured, that as I am a product of nature too, it is completely natural for me to interfere! kiss my arse Attenborough!).

I scooped up the original egg on a piece of paper and placed it back in the nest with it's new sibling. It's unlikely, but maybe we'll be blessed with 2 little bleating beaks in the weeks to come!

Egg Update 4: Abandoned

My blog is in state of mourning because sadly, after a wet and windy night, the egg has been left lying in the middle of the balcony floor, the nest soaking and flattened by the rain & no sign of Mum.

R.I.P. Egg
2007-2007
Just another Cyril

Egg Update 3: Phew!

After about 10 minutes, Mum found her eggling and after sitting on it for a short while, rolled it back into the nest under her chin- Disaster averted!
























Thought I'd just leave you lot hanging on for a bit ;-)

Egg Update 2: Oh No!

We have a rolled-out-of-nest situation!

Mum seems confused- she keeps checking under herself in a panic-
Will she be able to rectify this perilous scenario?

The Packard in its prime

At home yesterday I found this great photograph of my Dad's Packard One-Twenty at a rally in 1966

Restoring the Packard

Since Outrage passed away I've elected to spend more time with my Family, mainly my Dad, as he has taken it very hard (he walked, played with and fed him, every single day for 11 years). So now every Sunday I go home to Burgess Hill and help my Dad restore the Packard.

It's a magnificent luxury car- Made in Detroit, Michigan, early in World War Two, it is now 66 years old. It is full of simplistic, but beautifully engineered wartime technology, like the valve radio which when removed resembles the field radio kits that GIs used to haul around on their backs in the bocage of Normandy.

When you drive it, you sit far above all the other cars- It literally sails along, listing and rolling on it's huge suspension. It's bonnet is as long as a whole Smart car and as my bother Peter says: it has huge crumple zones- The other cars. Looking at the front of the chassis underneath the bodywork, it looks as if it were purpose built as a battering ram.

When you climb inside , you sink into one of the two huge leather sofas- with no divisions, up to 8 people can fit in (Perfect for a picnic). My Dad told me how he used to slide across with his right hand still guiding the steering wheel & give left hand signals out of the passenger's window!



















My Dad has owned the Packard since before I was born; I never before had an interest in learning about it, but now I think a combination of maturity and a driver's license has sparked a bit of a passion for it.
The beauty of these amazing vehicles is that no specialist equipment is required, there is no on-board computer to calibrate, no impossible to reach bolts that were tightened by robot appendages; All you need are a few jacks, an engine crane and a bunch of spanners. Nothing beats spending the day outside, helping and learning from your Dad, getting grubby with paint and grease and smelling that great smell of engine oil.



















Hopefully, this summer I will be able to post a video of its first few revs out on to the road!

Egg update 1: Nest!

I know you're all waiting with bated breath and eggspectation,(sorry, I will get bored eventually) so here's the latest:

Mum pigeon has spent almost all of her time keeping the egg warm- While Dad pigeon has been busy flapping back and forth gathering twigs- So Egg pigeon is no longer lying on the hard floor of the balcony, its now safely in the middle of a full nest! cool.

An Eggcelent idea!

Dan from the DULLEST. BLOG. EVER. has just suggested that I train a 24 hour webcam on the as yet unnamed (Suggestions welcome) sky-rat offspring. This would mean that you eager fanciers of pigeons could sate yourselves in the comfort of your own homes day and night!

Does anyone have a crappy old laptop that I could borrow for 5 weeks? (the little beggar should hatch in just under 4 weeks, then spend 2 weeks in the nest)
I could set it up in the lounge by the balcony window and leave it broadcasting to the interweb.

Can one of you kind yolk(folk) help me poach a pc to capture this eggstraodinary glimpse of nature before it flies oeuf? (oeuf! geddit?)

...and stop me from making all these awful egg refer-hen-ces!

Eggstra! Eggstra! Read all about it!

Much in the same way that the BBC forced people into tuning in every bloody night to Spring Watch, only to mong out at dull nightvision feeds of vacant nesting boxes, I will be regularly reporting on the fool hardy pigeon hen who has just appeared on my balcony with a freshly laid egg.

I shall not interfere in the least; Despite not wanting to scare the mother from its young, she won't let me get near it! It's too dangerous even wearing oven gloves, a baking tray breastplate and a colander on my head.

In weeks to come will we struggle to contain our proud throat-lumps as the plump, freshly feathered sky-rat makes its first majestic glide from the balcony wall? Or will we be sodden with a cold and damp feeling of futility and emptiness as I report of the chick's desperate demise?

Stay Tuned!