Really, really nice watch. Just need to give it a few days’ run-in and then, if needs be, spend a lunch break on it at work & get it properly regulated. Internals: ETA 2824-2, uprated shock protection, well-finished. Pretty much a Tag or Breitling, without the badge (or price!)

Oh – I haven’t actually mentioned work yet, have I? It’s been so long. I’m in full-time employ for the first time in a couple of years, my own little business endeavour being a casualty of recession. I now service watches Monday through Friday, which is hardly work at all, and the regular wage leaves me with little trouble fitting seven days’ debauchery into every weekend!

Life is good.

Very good day, despite having to wash the fish smell off my fingers every half hour (that’s what she said) (ahem, sorry).

Mussels, fish & chips, paella, my first ever oyster, local wine, FILO microbrewery bitters, and a really nice gooey chocolate dessert thing in a shot glass with a polenta biscuit that reminded me of a poshed-up version of a KP Choc Dip – anybody remember those? I want more…

Also, best merch shirts EVER, which are apparently designed by the drummer.

So I went to see him again on Monday, up in London this time. It seemed only fair. Another amazing night, hammered, and walked away with a copy of Hymns For The Hopeless on 12″ that was miraculously intact the next morning, even though my head and insides definitely weren’t!! Better yet – signed copy.

The weather on Tuesday matched my hangover, despite sunny forecasts, so I got soaked through heading for the train. Check out the soaked gig ticket, from the inside pocket of my jacket! Thankfully it was the only casualty. Screw you, BBC Weather.

Gratuitous imagery to follow:

In other news, I seriously need to vacuum the study floor…

Slow-cooked pork belly in soy sauce, lemon juice, honey and ginger glaze, with broccoli, ginger rice, and crispy kale. Total comfort food, read on for a vague how-to.

The pork goes in at gas mark 3-ish, about a quarter inch deep in the marinade (mix the listed ingredients to taste) for anything from an hour and a half. This time I think it was in there about two hours, regularly turned & basted. When it’s ready you’ll be able to cut the fat with a spoon.

The kale gets stripped from the stalks, splash of oil (sesame in this case) and some salt (not much, it shrinks a lot in the oven so it’s easy to over-season) then in the oven at something less than gas mark 1 for 25-ish minutes (not in with the pork though, as the steam stops it from drying out).

Rice was mixed with some finely sliced ginger then steamed, and the brocolli was just chucked in boiling water for a couple minutes then briefly in a frying pan with some of the (cooked) marinade from the pork.

Everything but the broccoli is cooked pretty slow so the timings are flexible, which is good because my coordination sucks. Presentation is my usual “fuck it, I’m going to chew it up in a minute anyway”.

Onto the ward at 07:30, second on the list, out of theatre by noon. I now have a 10×15cm Prolene mesh patch in my crotch for theoretically the remainder of my existence, that is assuming no infections or complications necessitating its removal!

Gratuitous scar pic, click to enlarge:

I have to add that the poor shaving job was their doing, not my own. Sidenote: if that’s ever your job, please, just shave a little bit further so there’s room to apply a dressing without adhering it to my pubic hair.

Wasn’t supposed to be walking for a couple of days, so the stomach bug I picked up there that had me running for the lavatory every ten minutes all Friday was even more unwelcome than it would have been under otherwise healthy circumstances. Add my name to the decriers of hospital cuisine.

Now I’ve only got the wound itself to deal with, I’m much happier, and eagerly awaiting regained mobility. I guess I’m going to have to take it very easy for a fortnight or so, and exercise and “strenuous activities” are supposedly out for six weeks. By that point I may start pushing my luck, so I’ll take things as gently as I can for as long as I can to minimise any negative impact later.
The wound itself basically feels like a particularly deep burn, and bending my leg illicits an upscaled but similar sort of pain to flexing a finger after scalding it on the grill. It’s unpleasant, but manageable – “taking it easy” is by far the most burdensome part of healing. Blue skies and cool breezes outside aren’t making this any easier, it’s perfect running weather. So so pretty. I want to be outside! I want to at least be in the workshop with the doors wide open!

Convalescence is not a favoured activity.

The disc, by the way – I’m not going to complain about the £18, but why oh why is there a proprietary viewer on there? Why can’t there just be two jpg image files? Especially when the program won’t run under Vista. This is a pretty geeky home, and we have four different operating systems covered between us, but that would NOT have been funny under any other circumstance.

Stage two: get them printed big enough to get up on the wall! I’m thinking A3, how about you?