Journal

Farewell to the Claymores

The sad news this week that the NFL Europe league have closed down operations of the Scottish Claymores has left me feeling disappointed to say the least. While I didn’t make it to too many Claymores’ games due to either financial or geographical reasons, I did enjoy the ones I attended over the nine years they existed. Getting to see real NFL players, albeit ones who were mostly back-ups on their respective NFL teams’ roster, was far closer to real NFL football than the usually run based domestic teams could offer.

The domestic scene is alive and well, though, and maybe the demise of the Claymores will return the focus to the amateur leagues here in Britain. Maybe the NFL could make ammends for the decision by re-instating the Brit-Bowl off-season showcase events that fueled initial public interest here, back in the mid-80’s, too.

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Ghosts in the machine

This morning when I went to check my mail and have a quick surf, Firefox and *Thunderbird had both lost my profile. Firefox had actually done it a few weeks back, too, but back then I had been running an old version and decided to take the opportunity to upgrade to the latest “preview release”.

So when the same thing happened this morning I was kind of peeved – and I don’t believe it’s the fault of either of these fine Mozilla products. Y’see, since Fliss got The Sims 2, the computer has been acting all weird. After she’s played it, when you shut down it insists on re-starting instead, and runs the scandisk utility as it does so, claiming that there’s a problem with the disk integrity.

I know I can probably rescue my *Thunderbird and Firefox profiles by re-installing both of them – I’m sure they’ll pick up the old profiles, as they’re still there, but whatever is causing this is a mystery to me.

The hunt is on for the connection between the above events, though.

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Journal

Parc Life 2

Over the last weekend we travelled up to the lake district for a family holiday at the Oasis / Center Parcs resort in Whinfell forest, near Penrith. The location was fantastic – set deep into the forrest, it really did feel like we were miles away from anywhere. This did mean that it was difficult to get a mobile phone signal, though, which made it a bit tricky for folk to meet up after doing separate activities.

Arriving on Friday I was impressed by the reasonably swift check-in process (I think we beat the rush by about half an hour), and the villa we had been booked into was ace. It really was a lovely, log-cabin-esque place to stay for the weekend, with the only downer being the lack of access for my stepfather Steven, who cant walk very far. The girl who took the booking in the call centre obviously had no idea about the location, other than a layout map, so although it was reasonably close to the facilities, it was probably the worst villa available for disabled access. Fortunately that was sorted out with a courtesy electric buggy thing after my mum made a couple of fiesty phone calls. The initial oversight did seem to be the vibe for the whole villiage, though, with disabled access at the pool complex being either non-existant or ill thought out.

After all the unpacking and some food had been sorted out, we ventured to the swimming pool to get a taster of what was available. Disappointingly quite a lot of the pool area was shut down, due to lack of lifeguards, so it got a bit dull after a short while, with only a wave machine and a couple of tame slides on offer. There was also a pair of flumes, but the tubes were pitch black inside, and I don’t mind admitting to being the big fraidy cat – these things were not pleasant at all… I felt like a frickin’ turd being flushed! You couldn’t see a thing, and being swept from side to side as you plunged into the darkness was more horrible than fun.

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