Casualty Auction now on.

Swedes like to believe that they believe everybody is equal. No matter how useless someone is they should in theory be treated the same. Boasting or being big headed is a big no no. So recently when a couple from Gothenburg tried to name their child Superman (Stålman) the nanny state stepped in. Authorities determined the name could lead to discomfort. Swedish law doesn't allow names which could cause a child problems as they grow up. The couple took the case to court claiming it was a name that suggested strength and manliness but lost.

It reminded me of my schooldays when another lad had the unfortunately surname of Pratt. Maybe if he had been born in Sweden the authorities would have put a stop to his parents choosing the name Alistair for him. I’m not sure if he had a middle name he could add to his signature, or if he is now going through life signing himself as A Pratt.

Mind you, according to Sweden's statistics bureau, names of comic book characters aren't entirely unusual in Sweden. There are four men using the name Fantomen (The Phantom), though not as their spoken name. 22 men have Tarzan as a name, 7 of which use it as their spoken name. There are also 5 women named Snövit (Snow White) and one named Törnrosa (Sleeping Beauty).

Casualty Auction now on.

Tommorow the Swedes welcome in the Spring. Large bonfires and fireworks are arranged to scare the beasties back into the depths of the forrests and keep the peace. It wont work however as I know my way back, but more on that tomorrow. My sister is currently on a work placement as part of her Uni course in Zurich. Did you think the Swiss just spent there time mending clocks and making cheese? Apparently not. I mentioned our bonfires to her and she wasnt impressed. It seems the Swiss do it better.

It starts with a big procession through the streets of Zurich - usual crap, old costumes, floats, bands that sort of thing - then they arrive at a certain place where a snowman is placed on top of a huge bonfire - and when the cathedral clock strikes 6 the mayor, or someone lights the bonfire, and its timed until the snowmans head blows off - the snowman has some sort of explosive stuff inside it as well, so there are some bangs and stuff. Apparently the time it takes for the head to blow off the snowman indicates whether it'll be a good summer or not! It took just over 5 mins, which is apparently very good, so they're in for an exceptional summer so they say!

You get to scare off big beasties - the swiss are just scared of the snow, think that sums it up!

Its time for another one of my celebrity memorabilia charity auctions, coming under the hammer this time are the stars from the BBC hospital drama Casualty. So why not go and have a peak at what is on offer.Clicking on the thumbnail pictures will produce more details. All funds raised will be added to my fundraising total on behalf of Concerns work in Cambodia helping people many who have been affected by landmines to become once again self sufficient. So please go have a look and make an offer!

Thanks to pj at Blatherblog for drawing my attention to this project. The idea is that on a chosen day, the 10th of May, people will be taking a photo every hour to give a snap shot of their lives. Okay so it could turn out incredibly dull but it sounds worth a try. I will just have to make sure i plan my day so it appears interesting, and so that I am not due a photo during my semi nude after run strecthes. No body needs to see those.

133 days left to S:t Eriksloppet – Stockholm half marathon.

I’m feeling on the top of the world at the moment. My running has been going so fabulously well this week that I have spent today with a silly smug grin plastered to my face. The reason? My last 3 runs have all been done in the fastest times for that distance this year. It started on Tuesday when I knocked 21 seconds of my personal best for 6,4 kms. Thursday was amazing, everything just clicked and 4 minutes disappeared from my 11,2km best time. Then today 2 minutes flew off my best time for 8kms.

Don’t you just love it when everything comes together. Certainly beats moaning about the neighbours.

Before I say anymore, can I just claim to be an easy going, don’t let things get you down too much kind of person. Generally, I don’t believe the glass is half empty, or half full for that matter; it’s just a too large glass. Life’s too short to get stressed about every little thing.

Right so you didn’t believe a word of that so lets get on with the moan, the neighbours have been at it again. A little background information. Generally apartment blocks in Sweden come with there own little mini laundrette. Place your apartment number on the list and you can use the 3 washing machines for the 4 hours you have booked. Then there are two drying rooms which you can use for an hour after you wash time is over. All very civilised and well thought out don’t you think.

Someone has left their washing hanging up in the two drying rooms. Its taking up most the room, how bloody annoying! Not a note or anything just the washing, are we meant to fold it up nicely for them, put it in a bag and place a mint on the pillow case for them? This was 10 hours since the last time someone had used the machines, was I still half asleep when I walked the gang plank onto the Mary Celeste? Its boring and time consuming enough doing your own washing without starting helping every other Tom Dick and Harry out as well. I came close to putting it back in a machine I wasn't using and then hanging it up back wet after I had finished. I kind of wish I had done now.

Then when I go back to collect my washing 20 minutes within my allocated time I come across another neighbour. Seeing the slightly stunned look on my face she explains that she had taken down some of my dry washing for me and placed it in one of the trolleys. Oh okay thank you that you needn't have bothered folding up my nice clean fresh washing for me. Ohh I see you didn't you thought I would prefer it all screwed up in a wash trolley did you? And is that a colloquial use of the word dry in these parts ?

To really piss me of I checked to see who she was on the list on my way out. It was only the bloody women who's bracelet we found and returned safely to her. Neighbours, who needs them.

That was quite easy in the end. I am now fully fitted out for our up coming wedding at the end of next month. I had thought that i would have more problems than I did. Purchasing a tie in Sweden can be difficult. Well for me anyway, I am very particular about my ties and over here they tend to use to shades of tan or have patterns which i think are a little well naff really. Thats not to say good ties cant be found, they can they just have to be hunted out more. I may not be the best looking mug on the shelf but i think i have brushed up alright this time...

As I was asked in a recent comment who won the recent guess-the-weight-of-the-junk-mail I felt it was time to reveal the winner. The leaflets weighed 112.2kg so therefore, drum roll definitely not necessary, was Paul. However I have to say I prefer Jez’s tiebreaker answer. I am sorry Paul I know you only said it in jest but your answer touched a raw nerve.

Delivering leaflets of course is a job that I accept having turned down countless other very lucrative opportunities. I enjoy being moaned at because I cannot control the fall of a bundle of leaflets on the other side of a letterbox. I find it assuming to see people smirking at me as here is a grown man doing something that kids do for a little pocket money. Of course I would prefer a “proper job” but that choice isn’t in my hands.

I have no control over industrial disputes at the book factory. If the management and the union wish to play mind games so be it, I have no influence over them; I just have to accept the hand I have been dealt. Hopefully soon the orders at the factory will be back to their normal level now that the conflict has been settled and I will have work again.

Its not as if I haven’t been looking for other jobs. I have applied for countless jobs at a similar level to what I was employed with before I left England. They have all turned out the same “we thank you for your interest but…..”. It’s difficult enough for Swedes to find work over here so why would they want an immigrant? who could you take if you assume the same level of competence, a Swede or someone who came over with the last boat? I have to keep adding on my plus points, the college course I am doing at the moment should help, being a Swedish qualification instead of some mis-understood foreign grade.

In the meantime I just have to manage as best I can. I don’t want handouts. While I was at college with other immigrants I met several who had been in Sweden for over 2 years. In that time they had been living in their own little cosy apartment provided by council benefits, sitting on their balcony not learning Swedish but painting pretty pictures. Is it any wonder immigrants get a bad name? I don’t want to be seen like that, so even if it isn’t a “proper job” I will take it. At the end of the day I want to be able to say I have paid more into the system than I have taken out.

Sorry for the whinge but I had to get that of my chest.

So that was Easter, did you have a good time? We spent the weekend at a friend’s stuga. I can hear minds ticking over so its best that I say a stuga is really a summer cottage kind of place were Swedes escape to at the weekends and summer vacations. Tucked away in deep in the middle of what seemed like nowhere really this was a particular nice place to escape to. Apart from the small stuga community there was no one else around. Traffic couldn’t be heard not even as a distance hum, just the breeze in the trees and the birds singing away. Bliss. Well it would have been if I hadn’t chosen this particular day to have a bad stomach. If I ever win the Stryktipset (football pools), and frankly after this weekend attempts its not likely, a little stuga would be high on my purchase list. A little place to escape to and let the rest of the world rush by on its own. A second home when we would want it and the rest of the time we could have a little side business hiring it out to tourists. If it was a big win maybe I could start my own little chain of stugas….

Swedes celebrate Easter slightly differently, for starters at the beginning of January you wont find a whole supermarket isle packed solid of thin chocolate eggs dressed up in colourful tin foil. The Swedish approach is to exchange an eggshell made of paper filled with pick and mix style sweets. Another tradition is Påskris. This entails acquiring some small twigs about to come into leaf and bringing them inside to be dressed up with feathers and other little hanging things. It seems a bit harsh on the poor trees and its slightly ironic the rebirth is celebrated by killing off parts of a living tree but that’s tradition for you. And finally there’s also something about witches, I don’t really understand why and no one has been able to explain it adequately either, but there is something about witches, honest.

I was about to write a nice little post on easter in Sweden. Then my weekend work arrived, so that will have to wait until Friday now. Instead I thought I would run a little competition, no grand prizes (well maybe the blunt pencil I almost "won" from Paul). All you have to do is guess how many kg's of rubbish am I going to post into people’s letterboxes this weekend. And in true competition style there is a tiebreaker to be completed in no more than 25 words. After delivering pointless rubbish, endless stairs, a couple of death threats and endless getting under your feet kiddies asking are you postman pat, James will..........

The conflict at work is finally over it would seem. For what must be close on to two months now the companies management and union have not been able to see eye to eye. New working hours have been the stumbling block, 8 extra hours are to be added to the monthly cycle, something that the union were less than chuffed about. So they tore up the local agreement allowing us to work the nightshift in an attempt to force the company’s hand. A move that was to backfire on them somewhat.

However like I said its all over now. Yesterday the company’s managing director was quoted as saying that the new agreement was in placed and it was a “win win situation for everybody”. So how do you work that out then? Did you still sack 5 people? Are we still going to have to work the extra hours? Are you still refusing to increase anyone’s pay despite the extra hours? And finally when are due to leave cloud cuckoo land? If the staff have won maybe Sunderland FC should get the folks at the premier league to do a recount, I think they may just be champions after all.

At least now I should be able to get scheduled work once again. For the rest of the summer I shouldn’t have to rely on working as sickness cover. So in that way I have “won”. Being paid by the hour instead of on a salary I will also get paid for the extra hours they have added. So it’s not all bad, as long as I can make it though the new shift they have added to the night shift. 6 of the extra hours have been dumped on the first day of the night shift. So instead of working from 11.45pm on Sunday to 6am on Monday they will have us starting at 4.45pm instead. I cant wait…..

I think I must be going mad. Quiet at the back, there is no need for rude remarks. When Maria’s alarm clock sounded this morning I sprung into action. Raced out of bed stating in a hurried voice “Shopping, we mustn’t forget the shopping” I was half dressed and in the kitchen before I realised (a) it was at least 4 hours before any shops opened (b) I usually find shopping tedious and would generally be happy to forget all about it, and (c) I didn’t actually have anything to shop.

Its not even as if window shopping is that interesting over here. Okay so my outings shopping in even a major shopping centre may be limited in time, but in my local town people don’t even notice that I have actually been out I am back so quickly. It’s not just that there isn’t that much to browse amongst the shops themselves don’t even seem to welcome you.

Lethargic automatic doors great you at every entrance. I swear one day I am going to walk into one of these annoying contraptions. Its as if the right hand side door is trying to out stare the left hand side door. Seeing who can stay closed the longest before giving in and actually open. People have been seen doing a strange little dance in front of these doors in a vain attempt to actually enter. A one step forward, two steps back routine, with requires hands waving madly at the senor, before turning away in annoyance. This final step of course is the key in making the doors open.

So whatever it was I thought we had to purchase this morning, I am glad to say I have forgotten.

I know its been a while since I last blogged but I have been busy honest. Judging by the lack of comments no one was particular impressed by my photographic efforts. So in order to offer you a proper fest for your eyes I searched out this blog for you all to enjoy.

While it may seem like I have been quiet about how my running is going, I can assure you my training has consisted of more than watching Paula Radcliffe sweep everyone away in the London Marathon. Just to put her efforts in context, and it feels almost a crime to mention myself in the same sentence, but I would be happy to reach Tower Bridge by the time Paula crossed the line. So now it is less than a year to go and a real wake up call, no excuses allowed I just have to get out there and do it. I have set up a sub blog with my training details so you can choose if you wish to follow my efforts or not.

And finally as if in a vain effort to persuade any doubters that I really have been busy and not just plain lazy I have been busy setting up my next charity auction. On the 27th of April I will be auctioning off a set of 9 autographed photographs from the cast of the BBC's hospital drama Casualty. Click here for the auction catalogue, oh and if you have time, pimping of this link would be appreciated

Okay I admit it im too lazy to write a real blog entry today,well at the moment at least. Instead I have been out snaping a few photos for your enjoyment or otherwise. The April collection

I am up and running again so to speak. My shin has been feeling fine after yesterdays and today’s run, so fingers crossed everything is back to normal again. It has not been without its difficulties however. Chris suggested a balm to use on my shin, which would help warm up my leg muscles. I use it as an addition to my warm up exercises just to make sure I am fully warmed up. Its simple to use, just massage it into the skin with your fingers and provides a warm slightly numbing sensation. Which leads me to another life lesson, which you might like to bear in mind. Always go for your pre-run toilet break before applying the balm.

Get-Rich-Quick Scheme number 34735: The humble household hoover

Its quick, its easy, and chances are you will already have all the components required by this scheme in your home already. With an everyday household vacuum cleaner you could be on your way to riches. But how does it work? Do you….

(a) Set up your own cleaning company and work yourself to the bone for the next umpteen years.
(b) Remove the dust bag, remarket the product as a revolution miracle and sell them by the truckload.
(c) Use the vacuum to suck the coins out of parking meters.

The answer of course is c! And where better to start your enterprise than the streets of Sweden. So keen is the Scandinavian country to attract entrepreneurs like yourself the government has even fitted the countries electronic parking meters with plug sockets for your trusty hover. Just plug and go!

Of course no one would actually try this would they? Theres a sucker born every minute

Excuse me mister....can we have our roof back please ?

Its not really been hat-wearing weather over here for the last few days. Walking and cycling have been possible, just as long as you are not overly fussed with which direction you wish to travel in. Oh well mustn’t grumble at least we have a roof over our heads, unlike some of the folks in the next town.

Forgive me father, for I have not run

In the last week I have managed the grand total of 1 (one) km run. I know, you don’t have to go on at me, I feel bad enough about it as it is. It’s for the best really but that doesn’t make me feel any better about it. On Monday when I started out on what should have been an easy run, I felt a twinge around my left shin. Over the week I have noticed it off and on, so in the interest of not doing any more damage I have given myself the week off. Chris over at www.runnerchris.blogspot.com has been giving me some sound advice so hopefully I will have learnt my lesson. Mind you I am not sure I should listen to him. He’s even more cuckoo than I am, his training target being a 50 miles ultra-marathon. Total nutter!

So it’s Friday and the weekend is approaching. A weekend packed with sporting traditions, The Grand National and the boat race. Should it be allowed though? No one could deny that it’s a tough gruelling event. An event that is designed to test limits to the full. A sporting institution but not one without its detractors. As usual at this time of year we have to ask is it humane?

I think if we are honest with ourselves, despite all the tradition, the only answer is no. On living creature on this planet should have to go through this. No, in interests of sporting decency the boat race should be removed from our TV screens. Coach potatoes shouldn’t be put through the torment of watching an advanced version of pooh sticks in the vein hope that at least one, preferable two of the boats sink.

I propose the two courses are switched. Well okay teaching the horses to row might prove a little tricky, but they could fulfil the role of the cox from the riverbank. Horses could shout from the river bank encouragement such as “Come on you little dwarf, how do you like have to do all the work for once, just be grateful I cant kick you from over here”

The real fun however would be at Aintree as the oxford and Cambridge crews try to themselves and their boats around the course. If Stuart Hall could be persuaded to do the commentary it would also resurrect the tradition of Its-a-knockout. Stuart could commentate in glee as the cox struggles to overcome each fence. Enduring fall after fall before turning to a larger crew member and muttering, “I cannots makes it, you will have to toss me” before adding, “just don’t tell the elf”

So it will never happen, but I can just wish…

Where did that lot come from ? I am growing to hate snow....

I have spent this morning battling with away with my Swedish business studies course. It’s a frustrating pastime as progress is so slow. The subject matter itself isn’t that hard, probably on par with an a-level in business studies. Having to learn so many Swedish words as I go along is keeping the breaks locked on. How many times today have you used an expression like return on investment? hardly surprising then that I didn’t know that its called avkastning in Swedish then, it just doesn’t tend to crop up that often in general conversation.

I am determined to crack on with it however as I am not sure how many months of tedious factory work I can cope with anymore. Conversation is limited with the presses roaring away in the background and dumping bundles of printed matter onto a pallet is hardly stimulating. It says something when the highlight of the evening is when someone decides to hide a tube of hand cream under the wheel of a forklift truck. I don’t think I want to stay at that mentality level for long, but in case anyone’s interested about 40 metres is the target range of a tube of hand cream under a forklift…

Whinge over.