The passing of the seasons....

My - it has been a long time between posts! Ever since the esteemed fellows at Blogger shipped their trading over to the rapscallions at Yahoo, I have found little in the way of incentives for updating.

So as the story goes - the good men and women at Fisher have given me a permanent job within the reputable walls of Badham Library and I must say that I am thoroughly enjoying it.

And whilst the dear wife is sowing her academic seeds at Rutgers, we have been managing the occasional visit to bolster the spirits. I recently spent two weeks in New York taking in the sights and airs and having a grand time. We even took an open trap around the Massachusetts area to check out the changing leaves (summer to autumn you know).

The little furry one - Withnail - appeared to miss me in my absence which is comforting at least. One would hate to think of oneself as having no more meaning to their pet than an automatic can opener.

The little fellow does cut a dashing figure in his scarf eh what!

However - watching TV with the lads still remains his most favoured past time

Introducing Withnail

I would like to introduce Withnail.
He shall be coming to reside with me at the Winchester on the 22nd of the month.
Do make him feel welcome.

New Haircut

For all those eagerly hanging of my every snip, here is the latest incarnation:



I was attempting to smile but it came out as a grimace....

Meet your new Librarian!

As mentioned, I have been rather quiet of late as I have been working on a few things.

First and foremost, I had a phone interview for the position of Faculty Liaison Librarian for the Department of Agriculture at the University of Sydney. It's a temporary position till November 15th - but the salary and career building potential are very good.

Today, I just received an email notification that I am their preffered candidate.

I will be starting on the 16th of April.

Huzzah!

Chameleons revamped

Sorry about the long silences between posts, but I've been working on something that should be absolutely smashing if it grows to fruition.

But more on that later.

Tonight, I have just returned from Maxwell's in Hoboken where I saw Mark Burgess (of Chameleons UK) perform in his new band 'Bird'.

And whilst this appears to be his first reincarnation since Chameleons, he paid his fans their due by performing 'Perfume Garden' and 'Second Skin'.

And if that was not remarkable enough - it was in a venue smaller than the Annandale Hotel with a crowd of 70 or so people.

I even had a chat with him before the show and bought him a coffee *insert fan boy swoon*.

I can now die happy.

(Mark Burgess is far left)

The winter that was

As the thermometer climbs into the set of numbers above zero, I would like to remember the winter that was past (and pray that it doesn't return again soon).

Last wednesday we had about 3 inches of snow which proceeded to hang around all week like that guest from England who just won't get the hint that at some stage you will need your lounge back.

The good Doctor and I went for a walk in the snow and attempted to make New Jersey look pretty. The layers of snow covering the street helped quite a bit.









The light rail station at the bottom of the hill leading into Hoboken







The Park in Jersey City Heights that overlooks Manhattan and Hoboken







A view from Jersey City Heights over Hoboken (it's out there somewhere)








The good Doctor trying to keep warm










Nothing is more important in the snow than a stout pair of leather boots



I would like to thank the following for making this winter possible;

Grandmother and Mrs Watson for seeking out and sending the stout leathers, Mother for the very warm and much used hand knitted woolen scarf, and lastly the good Doctor herself for the most vital winter jacket complete with furry bits.

Sgt M

Superbowl

It was Superbowl Sunday over the weekend, and if one believes the hype, it is the biggest party of the year (as it would appear that the parties are more important than the game itself).

For those of you who are unaware of what the Superbowl is, I shall explain;

The most macho of American sports is called football. But lets not get confused here. When they call it football they are not referring to Soccer, AFL, ARL or Rugby League. They are instead referring to American Gridiron.

So how does Gridiron work?



Two teams of big, burly men don skintight spandex, shoulder pads and helmets, then prance around on the field trying hug each other to catch each others balls. Every time someone hugs someone else, they all stop play, walk around a little bit then line up in a row facing each other.



One gentleman called a "tight end" bends over and throws a ball between his legs which another team-mate catches and then throws away. Hopefully someone from his same team will be there to catch it so they don't have to get another ball. The person who caught the ball then gets a big hug from the opposite team and the whole process starts all over again.



And just to make sure they make the most of their time on the field, they stop the clock ach time the ball stops during play. You may notice that the game has been going on for 15 minutes, but only 4 minutes have passed on the clock. They really love their game.

So how did the good Doctor and I celebrate the Superbowl?

We went to an Australian Bar and watched the cricket. Huzzah!!

All that ails ye!

What the deuce?

I have been struck down by the wicked hand of illness! The minus 10 degree weather (minus 20 if you count the windchill - and yes, that is an accurate figure) has caused me to become inundated with all of the symptoms of that dreaded fiend; the common cold.

It has been decided that it would be pertinent to avoid the infirmary in this country, as one is likely to go in with a head cold and leave minus an arm and leg. The only prescription then would appear to be bed rest and plenty of fluids, to which I go now.

Adieu

Snow!!

As I stepped out of the doors of Sir Branson's Phonograph Emporium into the chill air of Monday morning, I was greeted by a flurry of soft white snow. By Jove! This was my very first snow storm that I had the pleasure of walking through.

The early hour (12:30 am to be precise) of the morning meant that the slick and cold New York streets were relatively deserted, allowing me the opportunity to savour the experience. The flakes fell quite thickly, swirling and dancing around me like cotton from the thresher.

I caught the locomotive out to Jersey City and had the pleasure of seeing the mean and dirty streets of the Heights transformed into a pristine white landscape - sparkling under the yellow street lamps. As I trudged home I was thankful of the efforts of both my Grandmother and Mrs. W in locating and sending over my stout leather boots. At least an inch thick on the ground, the snow fluffed, flurried and crunched under my feet as I walked.

And while the going wasn't without peril (at least four times I was threatened with near slips on areas of icy footpath) I couldn't help but imagine what it was like for the early explorers seeing their own footprints break through fresh snow as they trekked the American landscape during their incessant march west.

I didn't meet a soul on the way home, and it felt very peaceful wandering the cold, crisp streets blanketed under fresh snow.