Phriday Photo XXIX

Ever have one of those dreams where you're running as hard as you can but getting nowhere? It feels like you're in treacle, your limbs in slow-motion, unable to gain any traction.

Banker's nightmare: Swimming upstream in a river of one's own red ink...

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Permanent Vacation

They say a change is as good as a rest. It's not like we're on holiday but working full time on something you really enjoy doesn't really feel like work, and I have found myself occasionally seeking out Aerosmith's great 80's album "Permanent Vacation" on the ipod, and smiling to myself as I air-drum through the intro to "Heart's Done Time."

The dearth of posts this week is partly down to the rapidly-prototyping Dennis, but moreso the fact that it's half-term and the hordes have descended. The mini-somnambulists have been joined by a succession of friends, family and neighbours and the Applehouse has been full to bursting...

we've had a 'Superbowl party' atmosphere in the Applehouse...

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the bar billiards table proved a roaring success and made it through the week largely unscathed...

the permanent marker pen was confiscated on day two...

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the over-exercised hairy one took a nap whenever he got the chance, and wherever he dropped.

Now it's back to school, work and more fun :-)

Phriday Photo XXVIII

There are a few people I know who are feeling a bit exposed and vulnerable this week. This one's a little light relief for them.

"See you, Jimmy"

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Zero Done

There once was an options trader, who, having made a (very) wrong price, and then been challenged on the price (twice), and finally been hit on the price in size, suddenly realised that he must have made a mistake. In a derivation of the normal derivative deal confirmation statement, he replied with:

"Zero done."

It might have been the oxymoronic tautology of the phrase that made it stick, or perhaps it was the very strong accent that gave it an Inspector Clouseau feel. Whatever it was that tickled traders' warped psychology, "Zaaayrow Dun." became a well-used turn of phrase, wheeled out whenever it was necessary to wryly indicate that an unfortunate interested party had failed to complete their desired transaction, deal or objective on account of being too late, too slow or simply incompetent.

Unfortunately, with the banking system in such a pickle at the moment, it seems a lot of traders are coming to terms with 'zero done' in the current compensation round.

"What was that? Bad line... it sounded like 'zaaayrow dun on zee bow-noose...'"

Phriday Photo XXVII

An added bonus this week - not one, not two but phour photos! You've probably seen these ones before but they're worth another look for a Friday morning smile...

If recovery services were run by bankers...

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Getting Serious

The most valuable, exciting piece of equipment has at last arrived at the A Tiger In Africa office. And there was much rejoicing.

I'm not talking about the frustratingly overdue wireless router and broadband connection that was installed at the end of last month. Nor do I mean the stylish, Apple Mac, resplendent in its righteous white, now piously gracing one of the desks (we bow to it each time we go past).

I don't even mean the super-snazzy, bells and whistles Blackberry Storm that we collected yesterday (I predict the emergence of a dangerous divide between the iPhone and BS camps!).

Instead I refer to the simple yet crucially effective ATIA whiteboard that will finally fill its designated wall space and become, no doubt, the cornucopial font of all that is called Dennis.

Our best bit of kit...

Monday Blues

Not so long ago I used to get that Monday morning feeling that my day job was largely about taking cr+p from multiple directions. Fortunately for me, that job now belongs to UDH Boy, and my main concern this Monday morning is that the miserable downpour underway is interrupting my firewood collecting schedule...

It's a dirty job but someone has to do it

Dennis Update

At the time of writing Dennis is a couple of weeks late. I hope that this isn't a sign that he's pregnant and about to spawn lots of little Dennisses and Denises. We wouldn't have the space.

The principle reason for his tardiness is the greater-than-expected amount of time required to crystallise the theoretical model and design. We're are not overly concerned by being a little behind schedule - partly because all involved agree that the extra time spent in recent weeks has been worthwhile and will pay dividends in due course, and partly because now that we are entering the rapid-prototyping phase Simplicity will be adding extra resources to keep us as close to track as possible.

There is an almost tangible buzz of excitement circulating at the moment. From our (ATIA) perspective, seeing our long-fermented ideas not just taking shape but being refined and improved is enthralling. The Simplicity developers are also bringing their own enthusiasm for the project and Dennis' prospects...

Lahore Tummy

Yesterday afternoon we gave a presentation and got our heads together with the dynamic Dennis development team at Simplicity, up in Islington. A friendly few Friday evening snifters followed in the Slug & Lettuce and it seemed like a great idea to stop by the Lahore Kebab House, just off Commercial Road, on the way home.

It's changed a bit over the years, from the tiny transport style cafe with old flaking formica tables and creaking benches with foam coming out at the seams, to the huge, sprawling restaurant it is now, somehow managing to be swanky and tacky at the same time. The kitchen is definitely larger than the entire establishment was 20 years ago.

What hasn't changed is the large throng of local residents waiting, many with their carrier bags full of refreshments from the off licence next door, ready to grab some seats at one of the big (now circular) tables. Nor has the quality of the food, which is quite simply addictive. In fact, over the years there have been rumours (quite untrue, I'm sure) of certain illegal ingredients being used to 'spice' up the dishes, such is the elation experienced by the happy, compulsive diners.

The ramifications the next morning are still the same too. The sudden urge to leap out of bed and dive into the bathroom, where one then has plenty of time on one's hands to, for example, compose blog posts. Yes, it's been a while but the old Lahore tummy is like the return of a faithful friend...

Phriday Photo XXVI

There's something about today's photo that just reminds me of my previous place of employment. I can't say any more than that, since I am legally bound not to utter or publish a word that may be construed as criticism. Large cappos all round?

If your job has you in tears, lobby for a new coffee machine

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Out Of The Icebox, Into The Freezer

Despite the vast majority of the UK grinding to a halt, we managed to make it back from cold, snowy Zermatt to cold, snowy Kent. Unfortunately, despite having all the gear on hand, the North Downs just don't really have the lift infrastructure to take advantage of the conditions. Maybe we should have stayed a little longer.

Privileged to be guests at one of the finest chalets in the Swiss alps, a fantastic long weekend was had by all. Well, almost all. Unfortunately, our delightful hostess with the mostest was struck down with a savage dose of the Irish lurgy and missed her own 40th birthday party. As disconsolate as we were that she couldn't make it, we tried to console ourselves with a bit of skiing and general wallowing about in luxury, being waited on hand and foot.

This left plenty of time on one's feet to ponder much that is deep and meaningful...

The most important accessory in cold weather is a good pair of ski socks. And the most important accessories on a good pair of ski socks are "unique dexter-sinister* identifiers." Having the letters 'R' and 'L' on each sock means that you usually put them on the correct foot (we'll ignore the fact that someone spent a day on the slopes sporting a fine pair of 'RIGHTS'), which means that you don't end up with funny shapes and folds in the wrong place, leading to excrutiating discomfort.

There is nothing you need more when skiing (and when standing around in bars after skiing) than an absence of unwanted wrinkles inside hard ski boots...

...except, perhaps, a bloody great mountain covered in snow.

A VERY big happy 13th birthday to Joshnambulist :-))

*before Lord Andrew of Goulding claims it, I have already reserved "Dexter Sinister" as the name for my thrash metal project.

Added bonus: a much better Matterhorn from the balcony yesterday morning...

Muttley Teresa

The underexercised hairy one has a problem with his ear, which is a shame as his ears are his most endearing feature. Like all Vizslas they are large, flappy and bleed profusely from the tiniest nick. Following an operation to attempt to patch him back together last week we have become frequent visitors to the local v-e-t-s. I do feel sorry for the poor little mite, but couldn't help chuckling as the increasingly frustrated animal doctors dressed him up as a nun.

Shortly after the photo below was taken, he managed to wrestle his ears free again and shake his head with his normal vigour. It was like a Quentin Tarantino movie. We carted him off in the blood wagon to be patched up again... for the fourth time that day.

"This is as far as I go. I'm not wearing the habit."