I thought I'd do this now because I know I will not have time to do it tomorrow. I'm about to stumble upstairs but I am conscious of the lack of bloggage.

I have only two (relatively) salient points to impart and a boat load of non-salient ones.

I have been looking into flights to Oz. They are nowhere near as expensive as I thought they would be. I'm thinking October. I plan on visiting the Bongo, my old mucker Aunty-Podean and a couple of others while there. I will be flying via Singapore so I can have a little break in somewhere I know and love. I might even have enough NWA airmiles left to upgrade to business class although I did donate a dollop to forces personnel who could not get back home from Washington to wherever they lived so that may not be possible. I'm really looking forward to it. It's been 7 years since I actually went on holiday so I intend to make this a good one.

I've just finished watching The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Trillion is played by one Zoeey Deschanel. Is she Emily's sister? She has the same piercing blue eyes so I am guessing so. I was entranced. She is, quite literally, breath-takingly gorgeous. I could watch her eating cornflakes on 24-hour TV. Or I could stalk her, but that would require effort and I have no energy for that. Maybe she could just bob in one night? Zoeey, the door is always open. If you have a Y chromosome, it will do your spirits no end of good to see her. You will be mesmerized. My knees are still weak.

In other news I have managed to find a birthday present for Das Flippen-Floppen (my SIL) and am quite proud of my ingenuity. Buying anything for her or Kidder is a mammoth task so this was inspired (and also approved by Kidder). I had an idea for the Gogglebot but was sure that it would infuriate Kidder so checked: correct. Kids these days have too many toys so I have just pledged to add to her slush fund. She must be the richest toddler ever. Just like the Flip-flop, she is a money magnet.

Right, I'm off to pound out some Z's. I have one hell of a day's work tomorrow (probably 12+ hours) so I doubt you will hear from me until Monday at the earliest.

Have a pleasant Sunday and where appropriate give people a hug from Uncle Kenny.

Bonne soire.

Eyup peeps. I was just checking my web duties and noticed a bookmark I haven't used in a while. This one. I can't believe the infrequency of bloggage of late. All I can do is blame work.

Work is both good and bad at the moment. The bad news is that I appear to have been given anything that is slightly hard. Some of that was my own doing but other parts of it have been foisted upon me via the judicious use of a long pole and a tennis racket. The good news is that given we are doing some kind of office rationalization exercise and quite frankly there are not enough desks, some people are going to have to be "agile" workers. Suits me down to the ground. Rather than driving 130 miles a day and losing at least 2.5 hours, I now get to commute downstairs most days.

The benefits are many. Work get an extra couple of hours out of me, I get silence so I can think and do things quicker. I also don't get called into spurious meetings that have little to do with me and I save on petrol. In fact in the space of 18 months, this job has turned from being something I loathed to something I quite enjoy doing. I'm having to learn things I have never even thought about very quickly and do not appear to be doing too badly.

The downside is that I am even more of a recluse, but I can live with that.

Speaking of learning, I received my Christmas present from Kidder last week and am dying for a couple of hours to peruse it. It's a manual for writing Xcode for the Mac/iPhone. If I come up with a decent idea for an iPhone app, the return potential is disgustingly large. I've read the first chapter and it doesn't look easy but nothing ever does at first glance. We shall see.

In other Wiganopolis news, I am disgusted of Wiganopolis. The council tax people are utter jerks. I have never seen such misadministration. I had a surge of adrenalin earlier today that made me want to call and scream at them but I resisted on the basis that I need to calm down before I call. Also, the Royal Mail deserve to go bust. They are about the most inefficient logistics company known to man. Why can TNT, UPS and the like manage to guarantee a next day delivery when the Royal Mail guarantee but not deliver? The amount of subsidies they get make them lax -- let them die. My patience is shot and I have a beard thanks to their inexpediency (I was waiting for a Braun Series 3 to be delivered today, hence my aggravation).

Okay, that was all very third-party fire and theft.

Some of you will be disgusted to learn that my soup eating frequency has increased. Naturally, I do not cook it as is. I have purchased some Tabasco sauce to liven the damned dreary stuff up and some double cream to give it some oomph. I have also started buying salad (no lettuce mind) with spinach, rocket and some other gubbins. It has left me wondering whether I should go the whole hog and apply for a sex change. Soup and salad? Who does that other than lasses and metrosexuals?

'Tis all. I will attempt to be more diligent with the blog but things are a bit mad at the moment and there are not enough hours in the day.

I'm still logged into this and the session hasn't timed out. Befuddled is not the word.

But really, can I be arsed after today? No. I can't. I've pulled a 14 hour day albeit from home, pulled a muscle holding the phone to my ear and pulled a beautiful black haired girl from somewhere exotic like Basildon. Spot the lie. I'm punch drunk from switching between disciplines which is why I can only bring you certain observations:

-- Law and Order UK. Just don't. I watched it last night. You'll forgive me if I give it a OMG. It is truly awful. Worse. Whoever thought they could cast two wimpy cockney barrow-boys as Briscoe and Green and some airhead (trying to play a hard-nosed Jack McCoy or Abbie Carmichael -- can't tell what they were aiming for) spouting \"Regina\" or \"The Crown vs...\" must have been doing some seriously good tackle at the time. The worst part? They try to use the dum-dum's like they do in the US version. To be brutally honest, if you thought you could pull that off with two bars of soap as the main duo, you'd need Angie Harmon naked in the opener to get any follow-on ratings. Never again. I felt like my Sky recorder had been violated with such guff. I'd sooner have watched a cooking program. Even vegetarian *soup* cooking.

-- I won't be pulling another 14 hour day again tomorrow. I have to go have the riot act read to me chez les medics. Ha! They think they've got the upper hand but after yesterday's 5+ hours sat in a car going to work and back and the subsequent \"why do my legs hurt?\", followed by a brisk walk very early this morning, I'm bouncing like Tiggr. [I really should quote Winnie the Pooh more often]. I shall try this again tomorrow. Could just be good luck or biorhythms or moon phase or even the value of the square of the nibbly-pibbly added to the co-efficient of candle wax. Who knows? There's a thesis in there somewhere.

-- In related news, I have decided that I sleep with too many pillows. I am not going to give the count away because you will all tell me I am right, which in usual circumstances, I would be quite happy with. In this case though, you need to drop the mantra for just a moment.

-- It is still quite dark in here. The only bulb here is that on my work laptop where a positively religious holy glow emanates whenever I open documents written by me. Okay, you can get back to the usual mantra now.

See how I rounded that off? Utterly brilliant Shamen Kenny. Not.

Yes, I'm tired. If you think this is a bit WTF has he been smoking, try dreaming like me at the moment. Actually, please don't.

In a final hail, I will say that I hope that you're all feeling hoopy and froody. Schlaft gut meine kleine igels.

...the light-bulb saga returns

Okay I have I have two functioning light-bulbs downstairs out of an array of 15. This technically means that I am doing this in the dark with one of those new fangled low energy (read minimum wattage) things so any typos are the result of the lighting, not from my crass inattention to detail. This is, as they say, luxury compared to earlier in the week when the one good bulb in the dining room went. I stood atop a chair with my torch in my mouth (<GO KENNY!>) and just managed to reach the fitting to replace the bulb giving me my glorious two bulbs. I am still cooking in the dark mind. I say cooking...

Having had success on a chair, I got to thinking that Rebecca is not that smaller than me (maybe 2-3 inches) and she ended up stood on a chair on top of a table to get at the lights in the front room. So I pulled in a chair, took my life in my hands and tried to reach them. Not a cat in hell's chance. How can this be? They are on the same level. How can there be six inches difference between the dining room and the front room? Either I live on a slope or there is some mad tardis action going on at the moment.

Whichever, I'm in the dark. Physically, metaphorically and intellectually.

In other related news, Mater brought around my main Xmas present last night -- one of her pictures. I guess it's oils and pastels. Given the light, I have not really managed to get a good look at it, but I think I like it. Maybe when I'm not so busy, I'll take a photo and stick it up on here. You can then all order similar products from her and I can cream off a margin. Since the last time I mentioned Mater's pictures, I have moved back to the UK and an awful lot more of you are about these parts. I'll see whether she has any exhibitions coming up and let you know. While I'm talking art, I wouldn't mind one of The Supervisor's works but that will have to wait until bonus day.

G'night all. Mariska is wooing me.

Kenny is not a master delegator. I have to admit it. I gave out some work last week and landed myself with two big pieces. In between running interference, I have been working on them, the idea being that they should be complete by 5pm today. At about noon today, I realized that they should all be in the same document and am now in a frantic cut and paste exercise. I guess I'm going to have to cry off 5pm and spend the weekend doing things right rather than hacking things together. If I have them done by 09:00 on Monday, technically, I am only a minute late. Right?

The Bongo has been in touch to say that I fully converted her to Florence and the Machine and that she is home safe and sound. I also emailed her So this is Goodbye by Stina Nordenstam as a surprise for when she got home. Mrs Albert continues accusing me of being a rubbish girlfriend. I guess all is well with the world. Actually, once it has thawed properly, all will be well.

Also, I have to say that Evil Albert needs to change his name to Halo Albert. He has fixed something for the Fashionista's sister. Good going Snodgrass -- now get that site up and let other people migrate their sites!

'Tis all. I suppose one last conference call will not kill me, and after that, I need to get my head down and crack on with stuff that I don't believe I'm very good at but, all the same, needs to be done. I regret to announce that Kenny will be unavailable this weekend.

I've just spent some time on the phone with the Bongo. Late last night, I had an awkward feeling that she might be feeling low so texted her. She was. And I felt awful. Sometimes you just know when your friends are hurting.

After several texts back and forth, I said that we should never lose touch again. Her response was "Not a chance. I love that you are part of my life again." She's worried about me while I'm worried about her.

The Bongo never liked my first wife. She told me many times that I was being an idiot. She was so right.

She is so right. We should never be out of touch again. I really am going to miss her. As I keep saying, she's gold dust. I've never had such an overwhelming compulsion to hug someone quite as much as I do with Ali.

I guarantee that this will be the last of my heartfelt ramblings until I go see her in Oz.

In the immortal words of Dido, safe trip home Ms Bongo. You have not seen the back of me yet.

Attentions, attentions, this is Alexander here announcing that Kenny has a message. Apologies to furriners who don't get the Meerkat joke.

I'm pleased to announce that I am still snowed in. It's like Minneapolis but without the joy.

Okay, I promised you a DS'd version of Ali (which has taken ages to clean up to a state where it is not absolutely rubbish). Here it is, taken by Alberta Junior on her Nintendo summot or other.

et neige et neige

The more it snows, tiddlypom,
The more it goes, tiddlypom,
The more it goes, tiddlypom.
On snowing.

And nobody knows, tiddlypom,
How cold my toes, tiddlypom,
How cold my toes, tiddlypom,
Are growing.

It has not stopped all day. There is no way I can get my car out and there is no way I am walking anywhere in this. This would not be a problem were it not for the cigarette factor. It is dangerously low. Later, before it goes dark and freezes even harder, I can feel a trip by taxi to Tescos and back coming on. I am thinking that if it carries on like this for any longer, it will be at least Thursday before I can extricate the Kenny mobile so I need to buy git loads of cigs.

I owe you one DS'd picture of the Bongo and I owe work one piece of considered delegation by tomorrow morning. It could be a long day. Actually, it could be a long week.

Okay, I have twenty minutes before I need to do something so I'm going to be brief.

-- I have polled the masses and decided that I am going to work from home tomorrow. Having been down thrice today in a matter of yards, I am calling a truce with nature.

-- Apparently my eldest can play Tori Amos like a pro on the piano. To say I am proud is an understatement.

-- We are not talking about football.

-- I have a picture of the Bongo that one of the little Alberts took with a DS-whatever that I intend publishing in the next 24 hours.

'Tis all.

Mrs Albert has expressly forbidden me from publishing any photos of her so you are about to be disappointed. However, that said, I do have some of the infamous Ali Bongo, Albert and I...

I'm back from my unintended blog vacation.

Truth be told, I've been too busy having fun. Ali Bongo has been in town for the last couple of days and it has been one massive laughing fest. That lass is gold dust. From the moment she walked in the door, the years evaporated and I felt like I was 24 again. It took her precisely ten milliseconds to tell me how awful I was at maintaining a house -- a theme that was mercilessly exploited for the next two days.

We went up to chez Alberts for New Year where the Alberts prepared a meal fit for the Gods. Oh, and we laughed hard. I have photos which I will put up later today or tomorrow.

I've just nipped on here to say, while it is still fresh in memory, that she is a one in 6 billion and I love her to bits. Every last sarcastic and facetious inch of her. And for the rest of the time she's in the UK, I am going to feel cheated that she's not here.

My resolution for the year is to get over to Australia to visit her. I guarantee it will happen. If ever there was an incentive...and if Oz is as good as the reports she's given, I might even look for a job while I'm there. You know me -- wherever I lay my hat and all that other Paul Young nonsense.

Pics later!