Thursday, March 25, 2004
I had a bit of a downer yesterday about the way the world seems to be panning out. Particularly in relation to youth.... in the news yesterday... with mates like these, who needs enemies...
"Boy set fire to friend, jury told
Martin Wainwright
Tuesday March 16, 2004
The Guardian
Two schoolboys locked a friend in a skip full of wood and cardboard and one of them set it on fire, leaving their victim with fatal burns, a court heard yesterday.
The teenagers threw 15-year-old Michael Temperley's bike and baseball cap into the container to lure him in before bolting the lid, a jury at Newcastle crown court was told.
Both boys tried to help passers-by reopen the skip in Gateshead when flames burst from gaps as Michael shouted for help. But the boy had suffered 30% burns and died later in hospital.
The teenagers, who cannot be named for legal reasons, told police after the incident that they had not thought about the risks.
The two boys wept as details of Michael’s death were read out yesterday."
As well they bloody should. The 15 year old has bee found guilty.
Speaking of boys weeping... I was running through quaint wee Duddingston village last night. The tranquility of the evening air was ruptured by a skinny bald runner screaming obscenities at two boys who couldn't have been any older than 10 years old. One was standing gob-smacked whilst the other was cowering against a wall crying his little lungs out. I was really worried this guy was some mean horrible stranger or even worse, an abusive father. So I ran over and asked the lad 'what's going on little man?' The runner turned on me and yelled, 'Don't F-ing ask the little bastard what's wrong... the little f-ing shit threw bricks at me from the bridge as I ran underneath it'.
I'm afraid all I could do was tell the kid... 'sorry, mate, you deserve this bollocking' and ran off. At least he seemed sorry!?
"Boy set fire to friend, jury told
Martin Wainwright
Tuesday March 16, 2004
The Guardian
Two schoolboys locked a friend in a skip full of wood and cardboard and one of them set it on fire, leaving their victim with fatal burns, a court heard yesterday.
The teenagers threw 15-year-old Michael Temperley's bike and baseball cap into the container to lure him in before bolting the lid, a jury at Newcastle crown court was told.
Both boys tried to help passers-by reopen the skip in Gateshead when flames burst from gaps as Michael shouted for help. But the boy had suffered 30% burns and died later in hospital.
The teenagers, who cannot be named for legal reasons, told police after the incident that they had not thought about the risks.
The two boys wept as details of Michael’s death were read out yesterday."
As well they bloody should. The 15 year old has bee found guilty.
Speaking of boys weeping... I was running through quaint wee Duddingston village last night. The tranquility of the evening air was ruptured by a skinny bald runner screaming obscenities at two boys who couldn't have been any older than 10 years old. One was standing gob-smacked whilst the other was cowering against a wall crying his little lungs out. I was really worried this guy was some mean horrible stranger or even worse, an abusive father. So I ran over and asked the lad 'what's going on little man?' The runner turned on me and yelled, 'Don't F-ing ask the little bastard what's wrong... the little f-ing shit threw bricks at me from the bridge as I ran underneath it'.
I'm afraid all I could do was tell the kid... 'sorry, mate, you deserve this bollocking' and ran off. At least he seemed sorry!?
Hey gang.. been a while. Since I've only been back to work from France for a couple of weeks... and am about to leave for Rome tomorrow morning on the red eye flight, I have been doing little else but working and running... and a little bit of socialising. Not much to report on really. Stay tuned for a report from Rome and Sardinia!
Ciao ciao
Ciao ciao
Monday, March 08, 2004
You can see some of the photos from the Val morel ski trip by following this link
http://community.webshots.com/album/123935355JbmTuu
http://community.webshots.com/album/123935355JbmTuu
Sunday, March 07, 2004
Bonjour tout le monde. Have returned bronzed and energised from a week skiing in Valmorel, France. Oooooh la la. Ski conditions were quite possibly perfect. The first day we arrived it snowed leaving us with a week of blue skies and powder snow. The range of runs was more than enough for an intermediate skiier such as myself. It was really easy and fab fun to go off-piste into snow of which our skis were the first to touch. An amazing experience to have the whole area to ourselves. Not another soul; so quiet and so beautiful looking out over the alps.
I should clarify that my face was quite often the first touch the fresh snow a lot of the time. I managed some pretty major off-piste face plants as I found it tricky to negotiate the soft powder and moguls; but the falls generally found comfy landings.
Four of us shared a basic, self-catering apartment 'Le Caillou'. Luckily we avoided being allocated accomodation in 'Le Fagot'. It was great to have the flexibility to eat what and when we wanted. Ben, Sue and I cooked up magnificent meals (Sonya somehow escaped kitchen duty) and the rest of the time we sampled the magnificent local fare.
My role in the mornings (as the most cognitively functioning person... and that's not saying much for the four of us) was hunter gatherer to forage for fresh baked goods from the patisserie. Pain chocolate was a bit of a fave among the troops. With bellies full of freshly brewed coffee and pastries, we'd head out for a full day of skiing in the sun. Ben was by far the most technically competent skiier. He tolerated me accompanying him off piste and on the black routes. Tolerated... and cherished the spectacular stacks I entertained him with several times a day. The other two gals tended to stick to the red and blue easier routes so it worked out pretty well. Most of the time we tried to start out together and would meet up at the end of trails or for the cherished coffee and snack stops. On the sunnier days (hang on, every day) we would rest the weary legs in a deck chair and amuse ourselves at people's appauling ski outfits or skiing stacks. For lunch we made sandwiches from fresh baguettes in the morning so by about 2pm we could find the most scenic spot amid the Alps to feast.
There was champagne for apres ski each and every night. Oh yes, the real deal. This was rather promptly followed by full bodied vin rouge, and the odd aperitif such as Pastis (lovely aniseed drink) or digestif, mainly being Junipe (like Benedictine) or a fine cognac. I think you can take a guess at how we all felt in the mornings when it was time to ski again. But one look out the window at the sun on the slopes and it was a no brainer to get up and at it!
Not only did I receive the title of morning hunter gather, I also gained the (UNWANTED I hasten to add) reputation of 'most likely to pull the chicks of Val morel' (well over and above Ben). On Monday night we joined in on a pub crawl of the local bars. Towards the latter proceedings of the night we were table top dancing. I had a tall, slim, blonde Norwegian lass come up licking her finger and slowly stroking it down my abdomen?! I was gob smacked. She then grabbed my bum and whispered 'I'm only joking, but it is fun to play... and the boys, they love it'. Ben must have noticed the alarm on my face and boogied up to ask if I was OK. 'See!' She shrilled, 'you've pulled!'
20 days of work to go and then I'm off to run the Rome marathon and recover for a week in Sardinia.
Hard life, huh?
Bon soir!
I should clarify that my face was quite often the first touch the fresh snow a lot of the time. I managed some pretty major off-piste face plants as I found it tricky to negotiate the soft powder and moguls; but the falls generally found comfy landings.
Four of us shared a basic, self-catering apartment 'Le Caillou'. Luckily we avoided being allocated accomodation in 'Le Fagot'. It was great to have the flexibility to eat what and when we wanted. Ben, Sue and I cooked up magnificent meals (Sonya somehow escaped kitchen duty) and the rest of the time we sampled the magnificent local fare.
My role in the mornings (as the most cognitively functioning person... and that's not saying much for the four of us) was hunter gatherer to forage for fresh baked goods from the patisserie. Pain chocolate was a bit of a fave among the troops. With bellies full of freshly brewed coffee and pastries, we'd head out for a full day of skiing in the sun. Ben was by far the most technically competent skiier. He tolerated me accompanying him off piste and on the black routes. Tolerated... and cherished the spectacular stacks I entertained him with several times a day. The other two gals tended to stick to the red and blue easier routes so it worked out pretty well. Most of the time we tried to start out together and would meet up at the end of trails or for the cherished coffee and snack stops. On the sunnier days (hang on, every day) we would rest the weary legs in a deck chair and amuse ourselves at people's appauling ski outfits or skiing stacks. For lunch we made sandwiches from fresh baguettes in the morning so by about 2pm we could find the most scenic spot amid the Alps to feast.
There was champagne for apres ski each and every night. Oh yes, the real deal. This was rather promptly followed by full bodied vin rouge, and the odd aperitif such as Pastis (lovely aniseed drink) or digestif, mainly being Junipe (like Benedictine) or a fine cognac. I think you can take a guess at how we all felt in the mornings when it was time to ski again. But one look out the window at the sun on the slopes and it was a no brainer to get up and at it!
Not only did I receive the title of morning hunter gather, I also gained the (UNWANTED I hasten to add) reputation of 'most likely to pull the chicks of Val morel' (well over and above Ben). On Monday night we joined in on a pub crawl of the local bars. Towards the latter proceedings of the night we were table top dancing. I had a tall, slim, blonde Norwegian lass come up licking her finger and slowly stroking it down my abdomen?! I was gob smacked. She then grabbed my bum and whispered 'I'm only joking, but it is fun to play... and the boys, they love it'. Ben must have noticed the alarm on my face and boogied up to ask if I was OK. 'See!' She shrilled, 'you've pulled!'
20 days of work to go and then I'm off to run the Rome marathon and recover for a week in Sardinia.
Hard life, huh?
Bon soir!
