Equality

One of the most inspirational and moving speeches I have ever heard.

The Digital Future

Much as I thought my little book would have vanished without a trace after a year I am delighted to report that is has just been issued as an eBook.

Yes, that's right, you can now read me on the toilet - in digital form.

And what's more, my publisher The Friday Project has done something rather brave and set all of their eBook prices at £2.99 or below.

Which must be the reason it is selling!

You can download the book here.

Joy T-Shirt

Sorry that I have been silent for so long. I am busy writing two different books and they both involve a lot of research but I felt moved to blog about this great idea from Canada.

Joy T-Shirts is a very simple concept with a remarkable aim - to change the world in five easy steps.

1. Select a portrait of someone you don’t know. Click on their thumbnail to read about them & to start building your shirt.
2. Customize your own T-shirt. All shirts are Sweatshop free and made from certified organic cotton or bamboo.
3. Wait for your marvelous Joy T-shirt to arrive in the mail. We ship our shirts all over the world.
4. Take a stand for Global Awarness: Wear your shirt and think about the person printed over your heart.
5. Upload your photo via the Participate link to have your photo drawn by hand and worn on the hearts of others!

And pretty soon the whole world will be thinking of one another.

Children Baking

As I write this I am working on my laptop at the kitchen table. Around me, in a frenzied cloud of flour, my children are baking. Now, I know the results may not be to Michelin star standard and there might be a few mystery additional ingredients but no cake will ever taste better.

That Pine Fresh Scent

The tree has been up and decorated for a couple of days. You come in from the cold after a bracing winter walk. The smell of pine needles hits you as you walk in the door.

Welcome to Christmas.

The Second Layer

You have been enjoying the chocolates that you received for your birthday/were given by an admirer/bought for yourself, but they are going fast. Holes are appearing in the crinkly plastic tray. Round holes. Square holes. Triangles. Diamonds. Ovals. You have nearly finished them off.

But, oh sweet and gorgeous but...

You remove the plastic tray and, lo and behold, there is another identical layer of chocolates underneath. Double the fun. Applies equally as well to tins of biscuits.

Whoever originally had the idea of putting two layers into chocolate and biscuit boxes should be knighted. Canonised even. Let's raise a mug of tea and toast them, whoever they are.

Ladysmith Black Mambazo

I find it impossible to listen to these guys without smiling.

They make a beautiful noise.

Smells That Spark Memories

The other day I was walking through the lobby of an office building and a smell hit me from nowhere. It was a slightly fruity, chemical smell. A bit like shampoo, a bit like perfume. Suddenly I was transported back to my childhood and weekends round my friend's house. His parent's hallway had precisely the same small, or at least one so similar as to kickstart my memory.

I have no idea what the source of the smell was, either then or now, but it brought a smile and happy memories.

Rice Paper

I realise rice paper isn't very exciting to jaded, world-weary adults such as ourselves, but remember the first time you came across it? Beautifully incomprehensible to a child - paper you can eat. An irresistible invention, especially the sweet variety. You probably ate loads, just like I did.

I used to write on it using food dye and a cocktail stick and then swallow the messages.

Beavering Away

I have been quiet for a while, sorry. I am working on my new book, more on which shortly.

Feeding The Ducks

Quite clearly bread is not a foodstuff that occurs in nature. It is man-made. So why it should be the snack of choice for ducks and swans, or quite how man first came to feed them baked goods, is beyond me.

What I do know is that a trip to the lake, pond, river or large puddle to feed the ducks never fails to entertain. It is therapeutic, relaxing, smile-inducing and just jolly good fun.

It is also an ideal way to dispose of stale bread.

Swimming In The Rain

I dont know why, but it is the best type of swimming.

Apart from, perhaps, skinny dipping with Winona Ryder.

But that may be just me.

A Good Book

Here is another mention of Fiona's book. This time with a lovely picture of the cover.

It gets a big thumbs up from me.

If you like your literature short and thoughtful then I would also recommend the wonderful sound of splinters poetry blog.

Guest Blogger: Fiona Robyn

I am delighted to able to welcome Fiona Robyn, author of Small Stones: A Year of Moments as a guest blogger today. We share a similar philosophy on life and I hope you can take the time to check out her book and her blog.

Over to Fiona...

According to Steve, everything isn't shit. I happen to agree. I know because I try to look at things closely. I try to see at least one thing properly every day, and the result is my www.asmallstone.com blog and book. And when you look at something up close, putting your nose into peonies, listening hard to chaffinches, concentrating on the cold feel of the wooden floor against the soles of your feet, then they are definitely not shit. Sometimes the things I notice make me feel sad, or annoyed, or disgusted. More often than not they make me feel grateful, or curious, or fill me with awe. They are just ordinary things. And they are also all extra-ordinary. The only difference between something being shit, and something being rich and juicy and full of complexity, is how much attention we pay it. I call each of my daily mini-observations a 'small stone'. I hope my blog (or my book if you feel like treating yourself) will help you to notice your own small stones. Slow down - they're all around you!

--------------------------

Do you ever find yourself rushing through your days with no time to pause and look around you? Do you pay attention to the smell of your coffee? Do you notice pigeons gulping from puddles?

This book contains 365 'small stones' - bite-sized truffles of poetry celebrating the extraordinary in the everyday and the ordinary. It will remind you to slow down and engage with your own world, because right here and right now is where the wonder is.

----------------------------

11 month old Florence says look! every ten minutes there is something new to fill her up with awe

*

She jumps off her bike and knocks the girl over, shouting and kicking her in the head and stomach. Men step in, pull them away from each other. Just further on, a pink pool of cherry blossoms lie under a naked tree. I pick one up, as if it might help. It has no scent. The tissue-thin petals are as soft as the soles of a baby’s feet.

*

today I saved the life of a pocket-sized mouse - he had twitching whiskers and trembled in my hand

*

papery pink pea-blossoms hover over the green of the field like stopped butterflies

*

the moon is so transparent you could slip a thumb-nail under the edge and peel it from the sky

Unexpected Encounters With Nature

Last weekend I was sitting in my living room watching the television when a blackbird walked in through the open door. It simply tottered along, had a look around, gave me a curious glance and then walked out again.

My smile lasted the rest of the day.

And While We're On The Subject Of Bread

Sitting in the shopping trolley while your parents push you round the supermarket. They hand you a stick of French bread to hold. By the time you reach the tills it is hollowed out and your belly is full.

The Smell Of Freshly Baked Bread

So good that it can add thousands to the value of your house.

Father's Day Special Offer

It is Father's Day in the UK this coming Sunday and if you are struggling to find the perfect gift for your dad then why not give him a copy of my book. I will personally sign and dedicate each one with any message you wish.

And, for this week only they will cost a mere £5. Postage and packing are free. Just click on the button below.

I await the influx of orders!

Walking Barefoot On Grass

Grass between your toes on a warm sunny day.

Cookie Cutters

There is a certain pleasure to be had as you push the heel of your hand down and feel the give in the dough. A myriad of shapes to choose from. Stars, circles, letters, numbers, gingerbread men, gingerbread women.

But nothing is quite as wonderful as the cookies and biscuits they create.

Warm, sweet heaven.

Vanilla

Ice Cream. Custard. Cheesecake. Body oil. Biscuits. Perfume.

It matters not.

All taste and/or smell lovely.

Except, perhaps, Vanilla Ice.

I've Been Blog-tagged

Whatever that means! DJ Paterson was the culprit.

I think I know what I am supposed to do. I have to write down six random things about myself, which are:

1. I cannot whistle.
2. I was once driven to Manchester in a limo which Kate Moss and Sophie Dahl had just vacated.
3. During a regional radio interview, in which I was being beamed in from London, I was asked to pretend that I was live in the studio alongside Ruby Wax who had apparently recorded her contribution the day before.
4. I write complaint letters to all manner of businesses and organisations under an assumed name. Some of the complaints are about my own book or radio appearances.
5. I bake a mean banana loaf.
6. I can sleep through anything.

Then I need to tag six other bloggers. The poor, unsuspecting victims are:

Shedworking

Jamieson Wolf

Phat Beats and Shiny Paper

Thriving Too

Still Amazed

May December Home

Hope you don't mind guys. If you decide to play then here are the rules:

• Link to the person who tagged you.
• Post the rules on your blog.
• Write six random things about yourself.
• Tag six people at the end of your post linking to their blog.
• Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
• Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Hopefully it will send some of my readers your way. Enjoy!

The Perfect Hiding Place

'1..2..3..4..5..'

You sprint from room to room in a quiet rush, looking, searching for the ideal spot.

'6..7..8..9..10..'

It needs to be large enough to conceal you completely but not so obvious that you'll be discovered straight away.

'11..12..13..14..15..'

It can't be somewhere too scary, like the cupboard under the stairs, or the monsters will get you.

'16..17..18..'

Come on, come on. There must be somewhere.

'19...'

Hang on. '20...'

Perfect!

'Coming, ready or not!'

And you stay there. Perfectly hidden. Until you hear that most wonderful of phrases:

'OK, I give up!'

Dice Poppers

I am not sure I could explain to anyone how to play the board game Frustration. The rules are lost in the mists of time. I think it involves getting counters round a board and landing on your opponents.

But even though the strategies for success and subtle nuances of the game elude me, I recall only to well the joy of the dice popper. A plastic dome, the board game pre-cursor to the Eden Project, with a flexible base. You push down on the top and it makes the dice pop up, spin round, and display a new number. No more lost dice and a curious amount of pleasure.

They should manufacture them as stress relief toys.

Live & Direct

I will be appearing on Radio 5 Live tonight at about 11pm. It is a phone-in about a new survey which suggests that 30 years of economic growth has made us no happier. My argument is that happiness has very little to do with economic growth, it is the small things in life that make us smile. Do listen out for me if you are at a loose end.

A Field Full Of Daisies

Like a million stars sprinkled across a lush green sky.

Or the biggest collection of fried eggs you'll ever see.

The stuff of poetry.

Balloon Animals

I can make balloon animals. Actually, if I am being entirely honest, I can make one balloon animal. In a variety of ways. My area of expertise is the sausage dog. It is the easiest of balloon animals. Two twists and you are done.

What is great about it is that it never fails to impress. Need to make a child smile? Twist off a sausage dog and hand it over. Works on grown-ups too. Although I wouldn't recommend it on a first date.

The Sugar At The Bottom Of The Cup

When you are a kid and start drinking tea for the first time you tend to be permitted plenty of sugar without the guilt that grown-ups have. When you get to the end of the cup, assuming mum or dad haven't stirred it properly (often on purpose), there is a surprise stash of undissolved sugar. This syrup is liquid gold and can only truly be consumed by sticking your finger in.

Those Nice People At Innocent

Those nice people at Innocent sent me two of their books. One is a business book that takes a look at their history and philosophy. The other is a recipe book for smoothies. Both are great, although I must confess that the smoothie one has been the most thumbed so far.

I sent copies of IIJYENS to most of the people featured within its pages and a remarkable number of them wrote back. Sir David Attenborough, James Alexander Gordon, The Pudding Club and now Innocent. I must confess I did hope that Heston Blumenthal would offer me a free meal at The Fat Duck but it was not to be.

Oh well, always best to aim high.

And apparently my book is being kept in the gents loo at Fruit Towers. Brilliant.

Facebook

I am on Facebook!

I can't pretend to know much about it, or even how to use it, but lots of my readers have been telling me I should join so I have got off my backside and done just that.

So, what next?

If you are also on Facebook and fancy poking me or prodding me or whatever it is you do there then do feel free.

Children Reading

Watching your kids reading alone for the first time. Comfy on the bed or on the sofa, their fingers tracing the words, they lips mouthing each sound with a whisper. So engrossed they don't know you are watching. You smile with the knowledge that they have unlimited worlds in front of them in the years to come.

Birdsong

I am sitting in my armchair by the window as I type this. Dusk is descending in lazy fashion and the window is open to let in the early evening air. Birds flit from tree to telegraph wire and sing their songs as they do so. All is good in the world.

Fristy Frosty Mornings

As a good friend of mine calls them. Those beautiful crisp mornings, just like this morning, where everything is silver gilted with delicate white frost.

Peeling Satsumas

And trying to create one unbroken spiral of peel.

Any peelable fruit or veg will do but I prefer satsumas as they leave your fingers fish-scaled with glitter.

Relaxing After A Hard Day's Work

You have been on manual labour mode all day. Perhaps you've been digging the garden, building a brick wall, doing some serious DIY or renovations. Whatever it is, you've been working bloody hard and at the end of they day you have five minutes to catch your breath. You sit down into a nice comfy armchair and close your eyes for a few seconds.

9 times out of 10 you will be fast asleep before you know it, but however you spend it this chill out time is some of the best there is. A rest is better when well-deserved.

The Bit In The Song Where The Gospel Choir Kicks In

2 minutes and 52 seconds into All These Things That I've Done by The Killers a gospel choir starts to sing and elevates the song from a cracking rock tune into something that makes you want to move mountains.

Add a gospel backing to any song and I am completely at its mercy. The history of popular music is littered with examples. No matter what your personal taste there will be one for you.

I am not religious and never will be but if anything was going to convert me it would be this.

Oh happy day!

Blossom In January

Walking through a local formal gardens last weekend I saw the beginning of blossom on some of the trees. They carry with them the promise of spring.

Satisfied Readers

Now that Christmas is over, and many of the people who received my book as a gift have started to read it, my inbox is starting to fill up with lovely emails from people who have enjoyed my humble offering.

There was one from someone who had been quite depressed since a death in the family and my book helped her to pick herself up; another from a teenage boy who read his father's copy and wanted to say how much it amused him; and today one from someone who has been inspired to purchase an Eglu and visit a Landmark Trust property.

I am bloody chuffed to tell you the truth.

NaNaDaMo

Oh, I like this idea. I like it a lot. Friend of this blog Barb, over at May December Home, has pronounced January as National Nap a Day Month. As an ardent supporter of the nap I am fully behind this wonderful scheme. Now, where is my pillow?

Leftover Sandwiches

Turkey and cranberry sauce stashed between two thick slices of crusty bread. Slivers of ham with pickles. Stuffing. Onions. Bacon. Sausages.

It doesn't really matter what goes in it, a sandwich made from Christmas leftovers is one of the finest meals known to man. Or woman. Or child.

Enjoy.

The Night Before Christmas

The presents are wrapped. The house smells of pine needles and cinnamon. The sound of sleigh bells can be heard off in the distance.

The air is buzzing with expectation.

Thank you all for supporting my blog and my book this year. You have all been very good so Santa will certainly bring you everything you wished for.

A very Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Signing Books

I was doing some last minute shopping today and popped into my local bookstore where I saw someone flicking through my book. I couldn't resist going up to her and confessing that I was the author. I offered to sign it for her if she was buying it as a gift. She accepted and before I knew it I had a queue of people wanting the same. I sold six copies in as many minutes. I should have stayed there all day.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Jamieson Wolf

I am guessing that this might be the final leg on my world tour (although if anyone else wants to host a visit then do shout). It has been amazing and most humbling to be invited to appear on the sites of so many people all over the world.

So today I land at the blog of Jamieson Wolf. I hope you can find the time to pay it a visit.

This Morning

Watching as our eight-year-old son walks to my bookshelf and selects something to read.

Good job he didn't go for Lady Chatterley's Lover.

What A Wonderful World

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: This Writing Life

Dr Ian Hocking has kindly hosted me on his This Writing Life blog just before he pops off to India. It would be good to see you there.

Reviews!

Following my exciting excursion into the world of headphones with my radio interviews is has been the turn of the press and television to cheer (or boo) about the book.

Al Gore's Current TV ran this exciting review, complete with a picture of me, in both the UK and the USA. International superstardom surely awaits.

Martin Rowson in The Independent featured the book in a round up of humour titles for Christmas and called it 'far too long and not particularly funny'. Seems that he is precisely the sort of chap the book was written for. Give it time to work its magic Martin, you will cheer up eventually.

And Sam Leith in the Telegraph mentions the book and reckons it is 'the opening salvo in a philosophical ping-pong game'. Well, he may be right I guess.

Finally, The London Paper picked It Is Just You, Everything's Not Shit as one of its recommended Christmas stocking fillers. Hurrah!

It's A Wonderful Life

George Bailey, a young family man who has spent his life serving others, finds himself on a bridge outside his hometown of Bedford Falls contemplating suicide. He faces financial ruin because of one silly mistake, something that isn’t even his fault, and his world appears to be falling apart. Suddenly he sees someone fall into the river and he jumps in to save them. That someone turns out to be Clarence, an angel (second class) sent to earth to help George at his hour of need. When George wishes he had never been born, Clarence makes that wish come true and takes him on a tour of Bedford Falls, a very different town without the influence of George Bailey.

So goes the basic premise of It’s A Wonderful Life, one of the most treasured films in cinema history. To the outsider, or unfamiliar, it may seem a little trite or sentimental, but that would be a mistake. Frank Capra’s classic movie is actually quite dark and sinister, many people forget the depths of despair that George Bailey is driven to, but it needs to be bleak and melancholy as that makes the final redemption all the more striking, all the more effective.

When first released in 1946 it was a commercial flop, losing money for the studio and the CIA considered it a subervisive, pro-Communist movie. As a result it wallowed in obscurity for many years. Its enduring legacy is actually down to an administrative error. The movie was accidentally allowed to fall out of copyright which meant that American TV stations could broadcast it for free and as a result it became a staple of Christmas viewing during the 60s and 70s, elevating it to classic status. It now ranks as #1 in the American Film Institute’s list of Most Inspirational Films.

Haiku

Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry which follows a strict structure but is intended to prompt an emotional response from the reader. Each haiku follows a 5-7-5 syllable structure. In the original Japanese it would usually be written as one line, but when translated into English it tends to be rendered into three.

The best definition of the motivation behind writing haiku can be found in The Haiku Handbook by William J. Higginson:

‘It is hard to tell you how I am feeling. Perhaps if I share with you the event that made me aware of these feelings, you will have similar feelings of your own’

Traditional haiku would normally take nature as its subject, often with the poet observing a natural phenomenon of some kind. It would also feature a prominent grammatical break at the end of the first or second line. A good example is this haiku:

Furu ike ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto

This was written by Basho, one of the most famous and revered haiku poets. He lived from 1644-1694 and began writing haiku at the age of 18. His work contains some of the most beautiful and thought-provoking poetry of any culture and the haiku above is one of the most famous in Japanese literature. It has been translated many times by a variety of translators but this version, by R.H. Blyth:

The old pond.
A frog jumps in –
the sound of the water.

Haiku is no longer exclusive to Japanese and has been embraced worldwide. In the process it has shed some of its formalities so that nowadays most English language haiku simply follows the 5-7-5 structure but does not stick to the theme of nature or include the grammatical break.

I have to tell you –
everything is not shit,
so, it is just you.

Live From Our London Studio

I am in the middle of a flurry of radio interviews at the moment. I appeared on Dave Barrett's show on BBC Radio Bristol on Tuesday. He tactfully referred to my book as It Is Just You, Everything's Not Poo throughout.

I will be live on the Ian Timms show on BBC Radio Cumbria at 9.30 tomorrow morning followed by a 10.45 appearance on BBC Kent (oh the magic of broadcasting). I then do a pre-recorded interview for BBC Humberside in the evening.

On the 21st I will be guest on The Tessa Dunlop Show on BBC Radio London and I am also booked on to Radio 5 Live for Christmas Eve.

Oh the busy life of the celebrity author!

Rainbows

Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. A rainbow is caused when sunlight is dispersed through water, usually raindrops but they can occur at waterfalls as well. Acting like a prism, the drops of water refract the light from behind. The various wavelengths are bent at slightly different angles which causes an optical effect for the viewer which we know as a rainbow.

But we don’t care about all that. We just like spotting them. The pleasure of finding one in the sky does not seem to diminish with age, a bit like the excitement of hearing an ice cream van.

I once saw a double rainbow, one beneath another, and stood motionless getting gradually more wet until a third rainbow appeared below the second. A moment I shall never forget.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Still Amazed

I am California Dreaming today as my world tour hits the Golden State care of the lovely Cynthia and her Still Amazed blog. Cynthia's post are always worth a read, and often provide real food for thought, so I count myself very lucky to appear on her pages. I have written a guest post for her about my fan mail. Well, sort of.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Me & My Big Mouth

Badass of the publishing world, and a man who put Tim Adams' nose well and truly out of joint, Scott Pack has deigned to host my latest tour visit. And he has really gone for it with a Q&A, pics, video and voting forms.

Yee-ha!

Last Day Of Term

No uniform and you can bring in a toy. Halcyon days.

Chinese Chips

Obviously it is a bit silly to order chips from a Chinese takeaway but if you have ever done so you will know that the Chinese have a secret magic recipe. Somehow their chips taste nicer than any others. I have no idea how they prepare them, and I have never thought to ask. Perhaps they cook them in a wok. Whatever it is they do, it elevates the chipped potato to a whole new level.

Add some curry sauce and heavenly pleasures await.

Advent Calendars

This post appeared earlier in the year but today feels the right day to repeat it for some reason. Can't think why.

Why restrict the joy of Christmas to one solitary day when you could extend it to cover the 24 preceding ones as well? All you need to do is hang up a sheet of cardboard with little windows cut into it. Easy.

For some reason, pulling open the little hinged flaps to reveal the picture or - if you are middle-class and not related to a dentist - chocolate hidden behind is a minor miracle every December morning. Just watch as parents volunteer to help children who are having trouble getting their’s open.

The first advent calendar was made in either Austria or Germany in the early part of the 20th Century. The Austrians and Germans can’t seem to decide who got there first, while the rest of the world think of them as pretty much the same country anyway so aren’t that fussed. Before printed calendars families would light an advent candle (some still do) or mark the 24 days off with chalk marks on the fireplace (slightly less popular now).

Fascinating Fact #5

Despite the protests of Columbo’s star and creators, NBC produced a show called Mrs. Columbo in 1979. It featured the crimestopping adventures of the lieutenant’s supposed wife and starred Kate Mulgrew who later went on to captain the USS Enterprise in Star Trek: Voyager. Unsurprisingly it was cancelled after one season.

Columbo

Peter Falk’s portrayal of the seemingly hapless LAPD homicide detective Lieutenant Columbo has become one of the most popular character performances in television history. With its genre-breaking format – the audience know the identity of the killer from the outset – the show became hugely popular during the 1970s although the pilot episode was shot as far back as 1968. In fact the character of Columbo dates from much earlier, having appeared in a one-off TV drama in 1960, written by creators Richard Levinson and William Link. In that live broadcast Columbo was played by Bert Freed.

Although it had a unique approach to the cop show format, the makers of Columbo were not averse to the world of cliché and the programme built up its own repertoire over the years, much to the delight of fans and aficionados. Enthusiasts revel in hearing Lt. Columbo utter his catchphrases ‘just one more thing’ or ‘about that alibi of yours’, watching him trying to find somewhere to stub out his cigar or parking his battered old Peugeot really badly.

The original 70s series featured a cornucopia of special guest stars including William Shatner, Robert Culp, Johnny Cash and Leonard Nimoy but was also a breeding ground for significant talent behind the screens as well – John Cassavetes, Jonathan Demme and Stephen Speilberg all directed episodes.

Now a staple of weekday afternoon television, Columbo continues to find new audiences every year and its appeal looks likely to go on for many more years to come.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: May December Home

I am repeatedly surprised and amazed that so many complete strangers are offering to spread the word about my blog and book. May December Home is my latest stop.

It is remarkable also quite how diverse these various blogs are. It seems that everyone wants to celebrate the nice things in life.

And that is just how it should be.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Damian McNicholl

Damian McNicholl is a fellow Friday Project author, his book A Son Called Gabriel is published next year and looks great. He is my host today over at his blog. As a Northern Irish ex-pat living in the States his blog is a fascinating read.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Shedworking

The fine upstanding chap that is Alex at Shedworking posted a leg of my world tour and I didn't actually mention it here. Terribly rude of me and I shall make amends forthwith.

Internet Community

One thing the internet has brought back into many of our lives is a sense of community. It may be a shame that this huge impersonal technological beast was the catalyst for this rediscovery but that would be a petty quibble – it is nice to have it back.

Newsgroups, discussion forums, message boards, support sites, chat rooms, blogs, MySpace, social networking, there are a myriad of sites that invite our involvement. We are communicating with large groups of individuals on a daily basis and, on the whole, our lives are being enriched as a result.

On Amazon, other readers will tell you what they thought of the books they bought and you can see what other titles they like to read. On social networking sites people are brought together based on their interests, the music they like, the places they visit etc. Support forums can be saviours. I recently had a problem with my laptop, posted a question on a computer support forum and 6 people quickly responded with suggestions and advice. Two of them kept helping out, offering detailed step-by-step instructions, until the issue was resolved. I have never met these people, I don’t even know their real names. They had nothing to gain from helping out, it was just a nice thing to do.

Sailing By

If you have ever been awake in the wee small hours and listening to Radio 4 then you will know this piece of music. Sailing By was composed in 1963 by Ronald Binge and is played at the end of domestic broadcast schedule each night, just before Radio 4 hands over to the World Service. It has lulled millions to sleep over the years, many of whom were up in arms when it was taken off air in 1993. The natural order of things was reinstated two years later when the powers that be saw sense and brought it back on to the schedule.

First Snow Of Winter

A few years ago I was working in an office in a fairly dull area just outside London. It was an unremarkable day and the clock was ticking slowly. And then it started to snow, a real blizzard. Within a few minutes the car park was full of every Australian, New Zealander, African and South African that worked in the building. They were outside throwing snowballs and building snowmen with huge beaming grins and increasingly red noses. For many of them this was the first time they have ever seen snow. It took me back to my childhood (I am sure it snowed more then) and reminded me of the excitement of the first snow of winter.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Mother At Large

Will it never end? I hope not. The world tour continues with a visit to Mother At Large, a fellow Friday Project author.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Thriving

And here I am again at the official blog of thriving.org, a lovely organisation that I have mentioned on these pages before.

You can read my conversation with Tessy and find out how I deal with groupies.

Japanese Cool Stuff

The rest of the world looks on in wonder at the weird, wonderful and just plain cool stuff that comes out of Japan. Whether it be computer electronics (it was the country that bought us Space Invaders and almost every other major computer game development since) or green tea flavoured Kit-Kats, robot dogs or manga, Japan churns out the most amazing things. We look on from afar, slightly amused but secretly quite jealous.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Girl Friday

I am really milking this thing for all it is worth with an appearance at my publisher's blog. Clare Christian founded The Friday Project in 2005 and has searched the web ever since to find great ideas for books.

Presumably she was having an off day when she signed me.

Anyway, if you nip over to her blog and correctly predict which of a list of ten entries from the book is my absolute favourite then you can win a prize. Lucky you.

Britain's Grumpiest Celebrity: The Vote

Who do you think is the grumpiest celebrity in Britain? Just select from the list below (and you can pick more than one if you want) to have your say. And your vote counts. The top ten in a month's time will all be sent a copy of my book to cheer them up. Lucky blighters.

more at twiigs.com...

Jumping The Queue

Legitimately, of course. You know what it is like. A trip to the supermarket for a loaf of bread or some loo roll and you are stuck in a winding queue for the till behind an old lady who appears to be doing her annual shop or stocking up for a nuclear attack. You start to think of ways you can make a sandwich without bread or alternatives to toilet paper as you really cannot be bothered to wait so long and then the woman in front spies your paltry load and allows you in front of her. Soon everyone else follows suit and, before you know it, you are pocketing your change and waving your thanks to everyone as you wend your merry way full of love for your fellow man (and woman).

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Sarah Salway

The hospitality of fellow bloggers has been one of the most heartwarming things about my virtual book tour and today I am being hosted by the author Sarah Salway. I have been on my best behaviour. Hope you enjoy it.

Don't forget, if you would like to host a leg of the tour just drop me a line at stevestack@hotmail.co.uk.

Taiwanese Notebook Slogans

Not just Taiwan actually, this is a trait of notebooks all over the Far East. Manufacturers of stationery in this part of the world like to put cheerful happy slogans on notepads, and they tend to do it in English. All of those listed below are actual slogans from notebooks and pads, I am not making any of them up.

Whatever you write on them is bound to be bright and happy.

The earth gave me dream and one lovely racoon, I know I was the luckiest man alive.

Hopes me to open the eye form the morning, goes to sleep until the evening, one all is all day fills happiness and the hope.

May the lucky star keep shining on you. A smile walked with a friend contains only a hundred steps.

If you want, I’ll be the wind for your stifling heart.

In this peaceful time I say your name, the wind answers and smile.

Owning this is one of my greatest enjoyments.

Wishing you a day that begins and ends on a delightful time.

The good mood is a vitamin pill for the soul.

There appears to be no commercial reason for doing this, they are just there. Beats a trip to Rymans any day.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Three Beautiful Things

The Three Beautiful Things blog shares much the same philosophy as my own, only it is far more poetic and inspiring than my effort. So it makes me very proud to be able to stage the next leg of my ongoing world domination tour at the site.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Caroline Smailes

Caroline Smailes, author of the remarkable debut novel In Search Of Adam, is the host of the next leg in my world tour. She has posted up a series of emails we sent each other on the subject of happy things and sad things.

Read all about it at her wonderful blog.

Poppy Day

There are only a handful of people walking this earth who fought during the First World War and every year that passes leaves us with fewer survivors of the Second. In today’s cynical and materialistic culture it perhaps wouldn’t be surprising to see the younger generation ignore Remembrance Day but given the numbers of teenagers and children who wear their poppies with pride we can be safe in the knowledge that, even when all those brave men and women are gone, we will remember them.

The Archers' Theme Tune

Tum ti-tum ti-tum ti-tum
tum ti-tum ti ta tum

Even if you don’t listen to The Archers, or even Radio 4, you can probably hum the opening bars of the theme tune. One of the most instantly recognisable pieces of music in contemporary culture, it has heralded the start of this agricultural soap opera since it began in 1950. A particularly joyful ditty, Billy Connolly once suggested it should be adopted as the UK’s national anthem.

The original composition is called Barwick Green, written by Arthur Wood. It is taken from his suite My Native Heath where it features as a maypole dance. And perhaps that explains the enduring appeal: to have a jaunty country tune explode onto the airwaves immediately after a depressing news report can put the supposed ills of this world into perspective.

Letter Writing

Sort through your post on any morning, throw out the junk mail, put the bills to one side, and what are you left with? Probably nothing. As little as ten years ago, your postman would have been delivering letters, not Boden catalogues.

If you are unfamiliar with letters, they are a form of communication involving the written word. Normally an individual would write down some thoughts and news onto sheets of paper using a pen, pop it into an envelope and send to a friend or relative, or anyone else they cared to correspond with. It was a bit like an email, only slower.

I am a staunch defender of the internet but there is one big drawback: people hardly write letters anymore. Finding a handwritten letter on your doormat is as rare as a four-leaf clover or spotting a red squirrel anywhere other than the Isle Of Wight.

Email and instant messaging has made communication quicker and easier than ever before and has removed the need for letters at all in many cases. This is a real shame as there are few pleasures more personal than writing a letter, or receiving one for that matter. We must all know at least one person who would appreciate a short note through the post, if we all wrote one after reading this entry then we would be passing on a small piece of friendliness.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: I Beati

Now this is quite exciting. I have been offered a residency at the inspiring I Beati blog. I will be appearing regularly there between now and Christmas. I hope to see you there.

Oh, and next Monday I will be guesting at the Three Beautiful Things blog, so mark that in your diaries.

Future appearances include trips to see Caroline Smailes, Clare Christian, Damian McNicholl, Mother At Large and Sarah Salway. Dates to be confirmed asap.

This is all rather fun.

Last Page Of A Good Book

Ideally we are talking well over 600 pages, perhaps pushing a thousand. Something epic, a tome which has taken weeks and months to complete. Think The Iliad, think Ulysses, think Proust. The sense of achievement, the depth of knowledge and poetry you have absorbed, the selfish pleasure at actually having completed it, is immense. You can keep your marathons and your cross-channel swims, give me Don Quixote any day.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Phat Beats and Shiny Paper

And the tour bus moves on to the really rather attractive and delightful surroundings of the Phat Beats and Shiny Paper blog. Eri, my host, has done a wonderful job of sprucing up my Q&A sessions and making it look darn interesting. I hope you can pay it a visit and I am pretty sure you will bookmark her site once you do.

Onwards and upwards.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Blooking Central

OK, so not strictly a tour date but I make an appearance at the Blooking Central blog today. Call it an impromptu acoustic set if you like. A bit of busking.

The Everything's Not Shit Tour: Writing In A Vacuum

So, the virtual tour is off and running with a Q&A session at Jon Mayhem's blog. Do pop over.

What Happens On Tour Stays On Tour

I am going on tour.

In the coming days and weeks the Steve Stack roadshow will be appearing at a variety of blogs and websites. I shall be spreading the word that life is really not all that shit after all.

If you are interested in hosting a leg of this momentous tour then drop me a line!

Harold & Maude

A 20-something young man with an obsession for death. A woman pushing 80 with a thirst for life. They meet. They fall in love. They end up in bed together. You know, the typical rom-com.

Harold & Maude was released in 1971 and was a commercial flop but in the nearly 40 years since then it has been elevated to classic status. The US Library Of Congress selected it for preservation in 1997.

If you have never seen this film then get off your backside and do so soon, it will change the way you look at life. If you have then you are probably smiling right now at the thought of it.

Do Me A Favour

As of yet, no one has reviewed my book on Amazon. I know that the book is selling quite well and that quite a few of those sales are through Amazon.

Do me a favour, if you are feeling charitable, pop on over to my book's page on Amazon and stick up a review. It would be nice to see what people think of it.

Thanks. Happy Sunday!

Journey Home

The greatest journey on earth is not the Trans-Siberian Railway, or trekking across the Himalayas. Nor is it being pulled in a sled by huskies through the Arctic wastes, or to the Galapagos and its isles of wonder. The greatest journey on earth is the one that takes you home. Simple as that.

The Sound Jelly Makes

Onomatopoeia is a wonderful concept but no word has been invented that can adequately describe the sound that jelly makes when it comes out of the mould, or when the first spoonful is dished out.

Thlurp!
Schlorb!
Floomp!

See, it can’t be done.

Good Hair Days

We hear a great deal about Bad Hair Days but these are, thankfully, few and far between. It is their scarcity which ensures they are remarked upon. Which means that the majority of days must be Good Hair ones. We should stop and celebrate that once in a while in our own small ways.

Signed Books

STOP PRESS. How about this for a Christmas present? I will personally sign a copy of my book with any message or dedication that you wish and send it to you, or a chosen recipient, with free postage. You can make the message as pleasant, rude or insulting as you like. 'Cheer up you grumpy bastard' may be one way to go, 'Merry Christmas my miserable husband' may be another. It doesn't have to be rude, of course, but if it is going to be then have fun with it!

There is a Google checkout button below which enables you to pay safely by credit card. The price is £9.99. Just specify when you order what message you would like me to write. Or email me at stevestack@hotmail.co.uk if you prefer.

Britain's Grumpiest Celebrity: The Nominations

Your blogger needs you!

In the coming weeks I am going to conduct a poll to find Britain's grumpiest celebrities. Anyone who visits this blog can nominate a celebrity, politician, or well-known person they would like to see on the list and I will then set up an online vote to determine the winner. I was thinking of having about 30 celebs to choose from and then the Top 10 would each receive a copy of It Is Just You, Everything's Not Shit for Christmas to cheer them up a bit.

So at the moment I am just seeking nominations. Please leave a comment with one or more suggestions and then I will set up an online vote. All in good fun, of course.

To get the ball rolling here are a few I have thought of already:

Gordon Ramsay
Jeremy Paxman
John Humphrys
Peter Allen
Sheila Hancock
Janet Street Porter

All nominations very welcome!

Inbox

I am delighted, and not a little proud to report that I received this letter in the post last week. I have sent copies of my book to many of the people featured and hearing back from this particular individual was a great thrill. I will kid myself that he is keeping his copy in his loo.

Sir David Attenborough

Sir David Attenborough is worthy of two entries in this book - one for his remarkable body of work and another for the wonderfully soothing effect of his voice – but I shall combine both here.

He has been broadcasting on television since 1954 and his career since then has spanned 20 separate series, with a 21st currently in production, and countless individual documentaries. His perceptive, empathetic and enthralling commentary to each of these programmes has been one of the major factors in their enduring quality and generations of children and adults have grown up listening to his voice. He has informed, educated and delighted an entire nation.

Discovering Water

There is a sudden rush of pleasure when you accidentally come across a stretch of water. You are out walking through the countryside and find a pond or stream that you weren’t expecting, or better still a lake or river (although if it is the latter then you really need to hone up your map reading skills). I was once walking the grounds of a stately home and found a waterfall, a good 30 feet tall, that I had no idea was going to be there. Magical.

Lenticular Stuff

When I was a child I used to have a lenticular ruler. A 12 inch strip of flexible plastic with pictures of dinosaurs. When you moved it from side to side the dinosaurs raised their heads, walked to the left, munched on some leaves or attached an unwitting victim. It would keep me amused for ages and it is a proven scientific fact* that males of all ages are magnetically attracted to anything that displays a lenticular effect.

Technology has since taken lenticular engineering to new heights and it isn’t just rulers nowadays, oh no, you can get huge advertising billboards that appear to move as you walk past them. You can usually spot these from a distance due to the number of adult males moving repeatedly backwards and forwards in front of them.

The way lenticular images work is by splicing two or more pictures together and arranging them in sequence behind a screen of prisms (usually just shaped plastic). The prisms refract the light so that the viewer can only see one complete picture at a time, but as the object moves through the field of vision, the other images slowly appear and create an animation effect.

*Of course it isn’t, but I bet I’m right.

Dunking Biscuits

Forget the cure for cancer or life in outer space, what scientists really need to be spending their time doing is working out the best method for dunking biscuits. And thank god they have.

Or should we? Whilst I rejoice in the idea that some boffin somewhere has wasted thousands of pounds of research grants calculating the precise formula for dunking perfection – the world needs such whimsy – it turns out that their findings are completely useless.

Get this; Dr. Len Fisher from the University Of Bristol ran not one, but two separate experiments into the Physics Of Biscuit Dunking. The first was on method, the second on flavour. Here’s what he found:

The ideal way to dunk a biscuit is to do so horizontally. By this, he means literally lowering the biscuit flat into liquid so that only the underneath is dunked. You remove it and quickly flip it upside down so that the undunked half supports the wet portion.

As for flavour, the best drink to dunk in is milk (hot or cold) and not tea or coffee. A good milk drink increases the flavour by a factor of 10. Apparently he also worked out that dunking in lemonade reduces the flavour. No shit Sherlock.

Both of these results are, as you are no doubt aware, utter tosh. Dunking biscuits is always to be done by dipping the biscuit vertically, immersing half of the solid into the hot liquid, and then rushing the whole thing to your mouth before it drops off. And the only drink worthy of dunking into is a nice cup of tea. You don’t need a fancy degree and a white coat to work that out.

Church Bells

I don't care what religion you are. The sound of church bells on a bright spring morning is a joy to the ears.

Hotel Breakfasts

Not the room service ones, they cost more and you get a finite amount. I am talking about the breakfast buffets in the restaurant. Typically these comprise a range of fruit juices, yoghurt, cereals, muesli, fruit salad, croissants, Danish pastries, toast, cold cuts, bacon, sausages, beans, scrambled egg, hash browns, tomatoes, black pudding, mushrooms, tea or coffee. And here is the thing – you can eat as much as you want. Take a plate, fill it up, and go back time and time again. Go about the task properly and you won’t need to eat again for a week.

Pyramid Tea Bags

The single greatest engineering feat in the history of tea and cake.

Pyramids

The single greatest engineering feat in the history of mankind.

Watching Television Sideways

This almost always means you have managed to convince your parents that you are sick and they have plonked you on the sofa with a glass of Lucozade and some dry toast. A whole day of television awaits you, all of it viewed while lying down. Some of the best days of my childhood were spent in this way.

Cancelled Meetings

You are snowed under at work, your inbox is full of unread emails and messages with red exclamation marks next to them, you haven’t had time for lunch and you have a meeting you don’t want to go to starting in half an hour.

Then a miracle happens. The boss’ PA calls to tell you that, for reasons you are too giddy with excitement to hear, the meeting has been cancelled. Suddenly your whole afternoon opens up before you like a beautiful summer field full of daisies. You feel like running barefoot through the car park and jumping for joy. Well, sort of.

It Has Arrived!

Oh. My. God.

It is finally here.

Hot off the press is the actual finished copy of my book.

It is real. I haven't been imagining it at all.

I am quite lost for words.

Almost.

I have no idea how the book will fare with the general public but I hope it strikes a chord with some and proves to be at least mildly popular. The bookshops seem quite keen. Asda, Smiths, Waterstone's and Borders have all ordered it for their Christmas promotions and The Friday Project are printing 30,000 copies.

I hope they don't get them all back.

Wish me luck.

As a special thank you to the regular readers of the blog I have three spare copies that I would love to sign and send to anyone who enjoys my witterings. Just drop me a line at stevestack@hotmail.co.uk and it would be my pleasure to send you one.

Although if you also want to buy it in the shops it will help keep me in biscuits.

Rubber Band Balls

Starting them off is a bit tricky but it is worth the hassle as no one actually needs a whole packet of rubber bands for legitimate office use so you've got to find something to do with them. With a little bit of patience and more time on your hands than you know what to do with you can wind rubber bands around each other and slowly create a monster. The largest rubber band ball in the world, as far as I can work out, was made by John Bain and its stats are as follows:

• Weight: 3,120 lbs
• Height: 5 ft
• Circumference: 15.1ft
• # Of Rubber Bands: 850,000

Now that man can die happy, knowing he has created something truly wonderful.

Sharpening A Pencil With A Knife

Perhaps it is the way it harks back to older and simpler times but for some reason sharpening a pencil with a knife, rather than a dedicated pencil sharpener, is curiously comforting and satisfying. The beveled, grooved finish; the tapered point; the shape of the lead - all of these things are unique when you whittle. OK, so you can't have competitions with yourself to create the longest unbroken pencil shaving but the pride in a job well done, and one you have crafted with your own hands and caveman skill, is pleasure enough.

Naps

There is a period of your life, between the ages of 5 and 35, when naps play no part in your daily routine. Outside of that they are little oasis of calm that punctuate the day. I am looking forward to reaching my sixties so that I can have even more of them.

Free Hugs

One afternoon in 2004, at the Pitt Street Mall in Sydney, Australia, a young man walks up and down holding up a sign saying simply FREE HUGS in big black letters. After prolonged initial scepticism he eventually persuades someone to give him a hug and than a chain reaction unfolds with dozens of complete strangers hugging him, and each other. The participants are eventually removed from the mall by security men but they fight back with a petition and end up with 10,000 signatures demanding the right to free hugs.

The whole sequence of events was filmed by a video camera and then set to music. The resulting clip was uploaded onto YouTube and within weeks had been downloaded over 10 million times. It became an internet phenomenon and inspired similar campaigns throughout the world.



The individual who started it all, he goes by the pseudonym Juan Mann, has since set up a charity called Free Help which tries to bring together people who need assistance for a variety of problems and those able to help for no charge.

The Free Hugs campaign shows how one man standing in the middle of a shopping mall with a piece of cardboard can spread his message around the world. To do my little bit, I will ask you to hug the next person you see. Go on.

Reasons To Be Glad

I am honoured to have been asked by the nice people behind the Thriving website and blog to judge a photographic competition. Called Reasons To Be Glad it has been inspired by Isabel Losada's book of the same name and is designed to celebrate the things it life that are bleedin' marvelous.

More details to follow but rest assured I will keep you informed.

Oh, and the guy behind Purple Ronnie is another judge so I am in illustrious company. Just hope I am up to the task.

Pudding Club

In 1985 a group of friends, fed up at being offered Black Forest Gateau and defrosted cheesecake at the end of meals in restaurants, founded a society to bring back the great British pudding.

The Pudding Club is based at the Three Ways House Hotel in Mickleton, Gloucestershire and opens its doors to members and non-members alike. Diners will be treated to a very light main course, perhaps a small pasta dish or salmon with new potatoes, but then the real proceedings will commence. Seven gigantic puddings are paraded in front of the assembled guests, followed by vats of custard. The puds will vary from session to session but you can expect the traditional Sticky Toffee, Spotted Dick and Syrup Sponge alongside less well-known dishes such as Sussex Pond.

Diners are allowed as many helpings as they want, but they must finish what is in their bowl before embarking upon a new course. It can be quite a struggle, but it is bloody well worth it.

Always Love by Nada Surf

Rock music and philosophy rarely mix well, but this is a great song with a wonderful sentiment.



I also like this acoustic version.

Guessing Quiz Show Answers Correctly

“1934!”

“Norman Foster!”

“Bananas”

“Magnesium!”

If you shout answers at the screen often enough and with confidence sooner or later you will strike it lucky. It helps if you are not entirely random and try to stay within the general vicinity of the likely answer, but that isn’t essential.

I tried it while watching a recent episode of University Challenge. I got more right than the scruffy looking bloke in the glasses second from the left. I felt like a genius.

My Book's Not Shit (Even If I Do Say So Myself)

I tend to keep the personal stuff out of the blog but I just wanted to let the ever-growing readership know that my publisher has now signed off the final proofs of the book. That means that It Is Just You, Everything's Not Shit, a collection of the finer posts on this blog and then some, will be on the shelves of bookshops and the virtual shelves of online retailers in September. That's just in time for Christmas and I am really hoping that if you like my blog you will feel suitably motivated to buy my book. If I can persuade, I don't know, perhaps twenty people to buy it then that should provide me with sufficient royalties to buy a packet of biscuits.

I am really rather excited. If you would like to pre-order a copy then you can do so here.

Fizzy Feeling

That weird, slightly worrying, but somehow pleasurable sensation you get on the downstroke when swinging in a playground, or driving over a hump-backed bridge. My son calls it ‘that fizzy feeling’.

Monkey

In the worlds before Monkey, primal chaos reigned…

At 6pm on Friday 16th November 1979, BBC2 broadcast an unknown Japanese television show which it had dubbed into English. It was to become the stuff of legend, which is apt given the source material.

Monkey (or Saiyuki in Japanese) was the tale of a Buddhist priest called Tripitaka who is sent on a pilgrimage to India to collect some holy scriptures. On his journey he picks up a ragtag coterie of helpers, a monkey king, a pig spirit and a sea monster, and together they make the dangerous journey, fighting off demons and helping villagers on their way.

The premise was based on an ancient Eastern legend and the show actually stuck quite close to the original story. The programme quickly became a hit in the UK (it had already been one of the highest rated programmes in Japan) and was the talk of the playground and workplace every Monday. For kids the appeal was the pantomime violence and kung-fu moves, for grown-ups the same was true but a few of them also noticed the underlying story as well.

Viewed now, and even at the time, Monkey is an odd concoction. The priest, Tripitaka, was portrayed as a man but was very obviously played by a woman. The voiceovers appeared to be taking the piss, but were actually based on the original scripts and were clearly performed with some affection. The huge helpings of Eastern mythology and Buddhist teachings were highly unusual for prime time family viewing. It was an unlikely success, but a very big one.

The Japanese series ran for 52 episodes but ended after the second season, without the pilgrims ever reaching India. Only 39 of these shows were dubbed for broadcast in the UK. Nearly 30 years on, the show is enjoying a new lease of life on satellite and cable channels as well as being released on DVD. These include the 13 ‘missing’ episodes which have now been tracked down and dubbed by the original UK cast.

…the nature of Monkey was irrepressible!

Playing Sports Against Kids

At a recent visit to my son’s school a group of boys asked me to join in a game of football. Now, I am crap at football. I never played for a team at any level, I cannot do keepy uppy for more than 2 or 3 goes, I have no football talent whatsoever. But these were a bunch of 7-year-olds and I only had my dignity to lose so I thought what the hell.

Surrounded by small boys, when the ball landed at my feet I was, by comparison, a giant. For a few brief minutes on that greenest of grasses I was a footballing genius. I was Pele. I was George Best. I was Garrincha, Eusebio and Maradonna combined. I feinted left, I dummied to the right, my silky skills dribbled the ball from one end of the pitch to the other. I left the bodies of muddied schoolboys in my wake. I had only the keeper to beat. But then, in an act of utter selflessness, I passed the ball to the only member of my team who had managed to keep up with me, a tiny little chap who looked like he had stepped out of a Dickens novel. Never mind my personal glory I thought, here is your chance to be the hero of your classmates Tiny Tim, the ball is all yours. I timed the perfect knock back straight to his feet.

The little bastard missed, but the glory of those few moments has yet to leave me.

Helping Lost Tourists

They are just so disproportionately grateful when you do. It is as if you have saved the life of their firstborn or told them they have won the lottery. You can almost forgive them for walking too slowly in front of you with their Day-Glo rucksacks and taking ages to find the correct change when you are behind them in a queue to buy a newspaper.

I once told a man from Singapore which train station to get off at and he proceeded to take a photograph of me, note down my address and once he got back home he sent me a thank you card and a copy of the photo. Obviously slightly nutty but heart-warming nonetheless. A decade or so later, he probably still tells his neighbours about the lovely helpful man from England and shows them my photo on the mantelpiece. I wait to see if I am remembered in his will.

Clouds

Floating above our heads every day are the stuff of dreams and poetry. The most amazing sights in nature are just a glance upwards away.

Muhammad Yunus

In 2006 the Nobel Foundation handed the Nobel Peace Prize to Muhammad Yunus and the Grameen Bank he founded. Yunus’ mission is to eradicate poverty from the planet. He firmly believes that every human being has the potential and right to lead a decent life, not matter what their background or personal means.

Based in Bangladesh, his Grameen Bank loans money to the sort of people that no other bank would touch – poor farmers and those in rural communities with no collateral whatsoever. As of 2007 they had 7 million borrowers, 97% of whom were women. They lend small amounts of money at very affordable rates to help people buy the tools to farm their land, pay rents or start their own businesses.

Despite the severe financial hardships of their borrowers, and the absence of any collateral, Grameen Bank has a much lower default rate than any traditional bank in the western world. It is a system based on trust and a desire to help out our fellow woman and man, and it works.

No wonder he is smiling.

Danish Pastries

Ahh, the breakfast of champions. Whenever I start the day with a Danish pastry I raise my mug of tea to toast the good people of Denmark. Although, apparently, I should really be toasting Austrians and Americans as well. In all likelihood, what we know today as a Danish was created in Vienna and made its way to Denmark, and other countries in northern Europe, by some sort of pastry osmosis.

It’s real rise to fame was when it hit the shores of the USA, which it did with great fanfare and huge success. A Danish baker and self-proclaimed ‘patisserie-savant’ by the name of L.C. Klitteng came to America towards the end of the 19th century at the invitation of Broadway restaurateur Herman Gertner. Between them they managed to convert the nation to the wonders of the Danish. To do so they had to battle against the well established French pastries which were popular with the moneyed classes at the time. What ensued was nothing short of a propaganda war, albeit a reasonably friendly, and not to say tasty, one.

In newspaper ads and features across several years the two men extolled the virtues of Danish pastries with cookery demonstrations and tasting sessions, particularly in and around New York. My favourite quote from one of these is as follows:

‘There is a difference between the Danish pastry and the French. The French pastry is eaten daintily and slowly, allowing each new discovery to sink in, and the flavors to blend one by one, until the effect of the whole is an Arabian dream of gastronomic thoughts. But with the Danish pastry – you just tuck a small morsel under the tongue, roll up the eyes, say “Ah-h” as though there were a sky-rocket present, and it fades away and trickles down to the barbed-wire entanglements of the soul, a subtle something that clings like an opium eater’s dream.’

Nigella Lawson, eat your heart out.

Bedtime Stories

When I was a child I would look forward to bedtime and hearing the magical stories my parents would read from books or make up off the top of their heads. It was one of the highlights of my day.

Now, as a parent, I find myself looking forward to my children’s bedtime so that I can read them stories or make some up myself. It is absolutely the highlight of my day.

Nice Biscuits

No blog claiming to be a guide to all things nice would be complete without this titular biscuit. Named after the French city, they were seen as a posh treat for afternoon tea when they first appeared in the 1920s. Nice is not a brand name and consequently lots of different companies make them all over the world. The recipes can vary but all feature coconut as a key ingredient, tend to have a sprinkling of sugar and, of course, have the word ‘NICE’ embossed on the top.

And if I may be permitted an aside on the word ‘nice’. In my children’s school there is a poster which shows the word being thrown into a dustbin. ‘Nice’ is banned from all composition on the grounds that it isn’t descriptive enough. Many teachers share this view. Enough, I say. There is nothing wrong with the word nice, it doesn’t deserve to be ostracised in this way. It has never hurt anyone. I submit the short essay below by way of protest:

What I Did On My Holiday by Steve Stack

We drove to Nice in the south of France where we stopped off for a cup of tea and some Nice biscuits. We had a jolly nice time.

THE END

Baths

With any combination of the following:

a) a glass of wine
b) a good book
c) bubbles
d) someone else

Fascinating Fact #4

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Play-Doh in 2006 a limited edition fragrance was released which replicated the familiar smell.

Play-Doh

It is not unusual for adults to show nostalgia for some toy or game of their youth, but Play-Doh is probably the only example where grown-ups can get emotional by recalling its smell. Far from the most practical of building materials, it had to be stored in its airtight tubs or it would go hard, so you could never keep anything you made. It was invented accidentally by the McVicker brothers during the 1950s while they were trying to create a wallpaper cleaner. Over one billion pounds (in weight) of the stuff has been sold since.

Cream Teas

Every nation is rightly proud of its national dish but, for some reason, the English can never seem to decide what it is. Fish & chips was long held to be the meal in question but then someone would pipe up and argue the toss for steak & kidney pie. In more recent years it has been claimed that curry is now the national dish which is clearly nonsense. I mean, curry is lovely and a very welcome addition to the national menu, but we really should make an effort to have one stand out meal that isn’t imported.

I would like to put forward the case for cream teas. A nice scone (fruit or plain) with a pot of jam and lashings of clotted cream. It is quintessentially English in the same was as haggis (or the deep fried Mars bar) is Scottish and, I don’t know, leeks I suppose are Welsh.

Historians in Tavistock, West Devon, believe that they have discovered the origins of the cream tea. Apparently, after the Vikings had plundered the Benedictine Abbey there in 997AD the monks relied on local workers to help them rebuild it. To thank the men the monks fed them with bread, clotted cream and strawberry jam. The meal proved so popular that they continued to serve it to passing travellers and the cream tea was born.

Brian Cant

Brian Cant has managed to be an integral part of no fewer than five television shows that are now part of modern folklore: Play School, Camberwick Green, Trumpton, Chigley and Play Away. He was a fundamental, and fondly remembered, part of the early years of millions of children in the UK and around the world. He was, for most of the 1970s, the nation’s storyteller. And that isn't just my view, his has just been voted the best loved children's television voice of all time in one of those polls that mean nothing unless they come up with a result you agree with.

A printer by training, Cant was playing around at amateur dramatics when he was offered a professional acting job and quit work the next day. After some time as a jobbing actor he auditioned for a new BBC children’s show called Play School and there began his stint in living rooms across the land.

Following an early period of heavily scripted shows, Cant got more involved in the production of Play School and ended up writing whole weeks of episodes. These were never live, as many people assume, but recorded a week ahead.

His appearances on Play School landed him some voiceover work for Gordon Murray and Freddie Phillips who were putting together an animated series for the BBC called Camberwick Green. This was such a success that he was asked back to do the same for Trumpton and Chigley. Recording his material in a converted broom cupboard, Cant didn’t get to see the animations at the time and, to this day, has not seen every episode from the series.

Play Away evolved from Play School and was aimed at older children and recorded in front of a live studio audience. During his time on that show he worked alongside actors such as Jeremy Irons and Tony Robinson, both of whom went on to enjoy success with an adult audience, but Cant will stay remembered for his work in children’s television. Still acting today, he appears regularly on stage up and down the country.

Personally I think it is about time that his significant achievements, and his place in the memories of millions, were recognised with an honour. Perhaps a knighthood is out of his reach but an OBE or something like that wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?

Black & White Movies

Sunday afternoon, no one in the house, black and white movie* on the telly, bar of chocolate on the arm of the sofa. Perfection.

*It makes absolutely no difference what the film is, as long as it is in black and white.

Breakfast In Bed

This is the one thing no one minds being woken up early for and is the rare occasion when a continental breakfast isn’t a disappointment.

It Isn't Just Me!

I am tickled pink to announce that my little blog, the one I have been quietly plugging away at every few days, is to be made into a book - a real, proper book made of paper and everything.

Those pleasant people at The Friday Project have decided that they want to spread a little joy to grumpy people this Christmas and It Is Just You, Everything's Not Shit is their chosen method.

Obviously I feel like Christmas has come early for me. I've been itching to announce the book on the blog and now that contracts are signed and I have banked my £2.50 advance I can do so.

British Book Awards, Richard & Judy, Nobel Prize For Literature - here I come!

(Oh, and it is going to cost £9.99 and comes out in September).

Albert Coombs Barnes

Every now and again, history throws up an individual so eccentric and remarkable that they deserve to become part of modern folklore. Albert Coombs Barnes is one such person, but sadly his renown is nowhere near as great as it should be.

Barnes was born in 1872 in Philadelphia, the son of a butcher. He paid his own way through university where he excelled in chemistry. As a young man he developed a treatment for gonorrhoea (rumour had it to cure his own) that proved so successful that he was able to retire, a millionaire, at the age of 35.

He subsequently founded the Barnes Foundation, which acted as an art collection and cultural centre. He also funded projects for the underprivileged of his home city. And he certainly knew his art from his elbow, the foundation included works by Picasso, Modigliani, Matisse and many Renoirs, much of which he had bought for bargain prices.

Access to this formidable art collection could only be achieved by writing to Barnes to request permission. Applicants who had, for whatever reason, incurred the ire of the great man would often receive rejection letters from Barnes’ dog, Fidele. Here is one such letter:

Madame, I have received your letter of the –th, asking for leave to visit my master’s Foundation. Unhappily, being young and poor, my master was treated in a hospital founded by your family. As a result of intimate relations with one of the nurses he contracted a venereal disease. He has never forgotten this, and is therefore obliged to refuse your request.

He was also a strong supporter of the black rights movement in America and would frequently receive visitors of all colours at his home in Philadelphia. When this brought protests from his neighbours (this was 1930s America) he pointed out that he owned the land they lived on and threatened to build a hospital for the black community right in the middle of the richest district in town. This soon shut them up.

My favourite Barnes story was when a rich socialite couple came to visit the Foundation. They were met by the janitor who was busy washing the floors. They then proceeded to loudly criticise the Renoirs and Cezannes on display, at which point the janitor manhandled them off the premises. He, of course, turned out to be Barnes himself.

Public Service Announcement

I have enabled comments for the site after a few people I know who visit the blog said they'd like to. If you do want to leave a comment then please do, but be nice.

I don't intend to include too many announcements - I like the blog to sort of speak for itself - but I should have some exciting news about the blog soon which I will share with you as soon as I am able.

I am quite keen now to see if any visitors will leave a comment.

Bacon Sandwiches

Proof of the irresistible nature of the bacon sandwich is that it stands as the number one reason for former vegetarians falling off the wagon. Even hardened veggies (you know, the ones who don’t even eat fish) can be spied to swoon at the smell of frying bacon and the sight of a bread knife cutting through a crusty loaf in preparation. I once lived with a woman who had been vegetarian all her life (I blame the parents) but still insisted on making my bacon sandwiches for me so that she could be close to their sheer culinary perfection.

Bacon sandwiches come in all shapes and sizes, with many accompanying ingredients, but – and here is the ultimate accolade – they are all great. A long, crunchy baguette filled with exotic salad and slaverings of mayonnaise can be delightful but then no connoisseur of the bacon butty would turn down two slices of white with a bit of butter and brown sauce either. It doesn’t matter how you serve it up, a bacon sandwich is bloody marvellous.

Everyone who makes a bacon sandwich will claim to be the finest proponent of the art in the whole of Christendom. I am no exception and here is my classic recipe:

• 3 rashers of smoked back bacon (it is worth stumping up for some really good quality stuff from a proper butcher but, let’s face it, anything will do)
• 2 slices of hand-cut crusty white bread
• some rocket leaves
• a handful of cherry tomatoes
• Parmesan cheese
• mayonnaise
• Dijon mustard
• some butter (obviously)

Fry the bacon in a little olive oil. When it is almost cooked, but not quite crispy, chuck in some cherry tomatoes which you have sliced in half. While these are cooking you can prepare the bread. Cut two thick slices and slap on the butter. Coat one slice with a generous amount of mayonnaise, and the other with an equally friendly spreading of mustard. Using the mayo slice as your base, pile on the rocket leaves (as much as you want really). Once the bacon is crispy enough for you then arrange the slices on the bread, I prefer two diagonal and once across the middle. Plonk the cooked tomatoes on top and then, using a potato peeler, shave some parmesan over the lot where it will start to melt. Stick the mustard slice on top and press down firmly. Cut lengthways (never diagonally – too flimsy) and enjoy with a cup of tea, a broad grin and juices dribbling down your chin.

Innocent Smoothie Packaging

Why more food manufacturers don’t give you something interesting to read while you are sitting at the breakfast table is beyond me. Cereal packets could have short stories or, wait for it, serialised novels on the back. Sauce labels could easily sneak in a haiku or two. So full marks and a round of applause to the nice people at Innocent who plaster the packaging for their smoothie drinks with enough reading material to last a breakfast sitting.

You may find instructions on how to turn an empty carton into a cress head, play spot the spoof ingredients (pickled onions or rubber ducks anyone?) or could always look at the base to be told ‘stop looking at my bottom’. Packaging with a sense of humour, designed to inspire a smirk.

Free Fudge

On Saturdays in market towns teenage girls dress up in period costume and stand outside fudge shops offering samples to tourists and locals. For them it is a mildly embarrassing weekend job, for us passers by it is free fudge. Result.

The First Page Of A New Book

Books are bloody marvelous. They can be life-changing; they can inspire; they and anger and incite; they can move you; they can educate you; they can fill you with ambitions and dreams; they really can change the world. Which is why starting a new book brings with it such a tingle of anticipation. You just don’t know which of the above effects, or any others, it may have. It could be the best book you will ever read. You could be a different person by the end of it. Starting a new book reminds you that life has endless potential.

Extra Hour In Bed When The Clocks Go Back

Obviously it isn't compulsory to stay in bed for the extra hour. Some people like to wake up as normal and make the most of the additional time. If you are one of those people then I salute and applaud your endeavour, but could you please keep the noise down?

Drawing Pictures In Steamed Up Windows

In years to come archaeologists will unearth fragments of glass, breathe upon them in excitement, and discover whole new languages - a world of mysterious hieroglyphs containing smiley faces and stick men.

Bookshop Browsing

Some of the greatest pleasures in life are the most simple. Standing in a bookshop, surrounded by thousands of volumes, is one such joy.

Ideally, you would be in no rush. It is good to linger when browsing books. You can then identify a suitable section and decide upon your strategy. There are many to choose from:

The Librarian. Strict alphabetical order, you start at A and allow your eye to run across each spine, perhaps aided by a pointing finger. A small tut may venture from your lips when you find something not in the correct order. Selected books will be removed from the shelf, examined and then placed back carefully from whence they came. After twenty minutes you have only reached as far as C, so make a mental note of where you got to for your next visit.

The A.D.H.D. Even though you have all the time in the world you don’t want to miss anything so your eyes scan huge sections in one go, lingering briefly on interesting looking jackets or strange titles. You will pick things up but get bored after the first few lines of blurb.

The Favouritist. You make a beeline for your favourite authors and quickly check that they haven’t published a new book without you knowing. They never have. You then proceed to rearrange their titles on the shelf so that other shoppers are more likely to come across them.

The Janitor. A nice leisurely browse, tidying as you go. Booksellers of the world love people like you.

The Gambler. Pure pot luck. You pick up anything that comes to hand using whatever method works for you that day. You end up taking home a bunch of stuff you’ve never heard of just to see what it is like.

The Pigeonholer. You know what you like and like what you know. You head straight for your department of choice, never deviating or being swayed by multibuys or special offers. You are rarely surprised.

The Abramovitch. It is pay-day and you buy everything that looks remotely attractive or interesting and end up with a pile of books that you will struggle to fit on your shelves.

Arts Cinemas

They might show far more subtitled movies than are good for them but any cinema that serves a cup of tea and slice of cake that you can take into the auditorium with you is worthy of celebration. Watching angst-ridden French actors argue with each other in between bouts of athletic and graphic sex is made all the more palatable with a forkful of cream slice. Try it sometime.

Ulises de la Cruz

Footballers are, on the whole, an over-paid arrogant bunch who think that the occasional appearance on Children In Need or Comic Relief makes them appear humble and worthy. I don’t begrudge them their salaries, get what you can lads, and I know some do make a bit of an effort, but Ecuadorian footballer Ulises de la Cruz puts most of them to shame.

De la Cruz comes from the remote village of Piquiucho, three hours north of Ecuador’s capital Quito. The people of Piquiucho tended to live in ramshackle homes and the area was largely neglected by the government, but in recent years it has seen major rejuvenation.

18km of fresh water pipes have been laid to rid the village of the fungal infections spread for years by dirty water. A medical centre has opened with a full-time doctor, dentist and nurse. Education has been given a boost with a new roof for the local school along with hundreds of books and a playground. Every morning, 100 primary school children get breakfast and lunch provided for free, meals they may not have received otherwise. A new complex of homes, built to modern standards, is now underway.

Every single penny for this reconstruction and improvement has come from the pocket of Ulises de la Cruz. Currently playing for Reading in the Premiership, the footballer sends back 10% of his salary to fund the work of the foundation he set up. His mother, Edita, is in charge of making sure the money goes to the right causes.

Unlike many footballers, who count their success in trophies, adulation and sponsorships, de la Cruz equates his triumphs with what they can do for his home village:

‘The 2006 World Cup in Germany, when we reached the second round, was important because the success means I can finance a new sports and community centre, now under construction.’

Falling In Love

Now I don’t want to get all twee and slushy on you, and I promise not to linger on this one, but it would be remiss of me to ignore it on this of all days. Falling in love is one of the most inspiring, life-affirming, empowering events we can experience. For some of us it happens just once in our lifetime, for others it seems to occur a couple of times a day. No matter the whys and wherefores, when it does happen it is a thing to celebration. As I write this I am looking across at the woman I love and I find myself humbled and grateful. She makes me feel like I could move mountains. Not that I will, that would be foolish. I might just pop over and give her a kiss instead.

Licking The Bowl

Mum has been baking a cake. She passes you the mixing bowl. The next ten minutes vanish in a blur of sticky fingers. Nowadays I tend to use the spoon, that is when my kids don't get there first.

Non-Iron Shirts

Clearly invented by the patron saint of Monday mornings.

Rain Borders

I am not sure if these have an actual name, they are not weather fronts, that is something different. What I am talking about is that rare occurrence when you stand slap bang between an area of bright sunshine and a band of pouring rain.

I can remember one time when it was pissing down outside the front of my house but out the back is was so bright you needed to wear sunglasses. It lasted for several minutes and I kept running through one door and out the other in excitement. OK, so I was about 10 but I am pretty sure I would do the same thing now.

On another occasion I was waiting for a train on a bright summer’s day when I noticed that the other end of the platform was dark. Not only was it dark but the rain was pouring down. Torrents of the stuff. I stood there amazed as this sheet of water made its way towards me, the other passengers were also watching and sharing the moment with each other. Our train arrived, but without exception we all waited until we were at least partially wet before jumping on board, smiling at each other in the secret knowledge of this meteorological event for the rest of the journey.