Dreaming of Pies

Came back home for Crimbo and new year, and it was bloody great. Cold weather, nice food and proper beer. It's alright in Singapore if you're not there too much, but I miss a lot of things about home and it's always nice to come back. Our Gwen came a few days after I got back, so I thought I'd treat her to some quality football at the City Ground.







Our Gwen at Trent Bridge, pre-game, Forest versus Port Vale.






Chips, peas and gravy. Canadians eat something called poutine, which is chips with cheese curds on top (it's good), but when I asked for this staple food in the chippy near the ground, Marni expressed a slight disgust. Until she tasted it, that is. Then she loved it. It was the mushy pea thing that she wasn't getting. Some people are weird.








Not a bad game in the end. Forest won 2-0. Vale squandered a few chances. It was hard to remain focused on the game though...






...once I'd spotted the pie sign. A pukka pie would've gone down a treat on top of those chips, peas and gravy.






Also took her to Wollaton Hall for a Sunday treat but you couldn't see owt. I told her there was a big hall at the top of the hill with a stuffed gorilla inside, but since you couldn't see it then there was no way it could be there. She believed me and we went home. Saved a walk up the hill, although she did insist on dancing like a retard before we left.





Christmas dinner was good, with a healthy dose of pigs in blankets.





Marni was ecstatic.









Spent new year's eve at Michael's house. This is Pablo and Louise in their self-inflating Sumo outfits. They could have been the highlight of the evening if it wasn't for the marbles and Michael proposing to Nicky Bell on the stroke of midnight.





Playing marbles is funny because to any outsiders, they usually scoff at the thought of marbles. A few of us at the party are hardcore enthusiasts who have been playing for years as part of the IMF (International Marble Federation) and we were obviously keen to have a few games as we rarely get the chance to meet as a group. When we begin playing, the scoffers usually sit there mildly bemused, maybe tutting under their breath, "Sad bastards." For example, when I was living in Cornwall a few years ago, my sister came down for new year and before she arrived I remember her asking what we would be doing. So I told the truth: drinking alcohol and playing marbles. She couldn't believe it. Called me a sad bastard for a good couple of hours, until we invited her to have a game. Then, once she'd played her first marble, she was hooked. Couldn't stop her after that. Anyway, this is what happened on new year's eve. Everbody wanted in once they'd seen the drama and excitement. So, we began a tournament. This is newcomer, Liz, playing Gavin, a seasoned pro.







For a beginner, Liz was good. Fact. But Gav had to concentrate hard to beat her. Which he did. A good job too, otherwise it would've been a major embarrassment for him and he's got enough to be embarrassed about as it is, without losing to a girl.







A lot of the new players provided some stiff competition, but, like lower league teams who sometimes have a lucky run in the FA Cup, they didn't make it all the way. In fact, it was me and Pablo who played each other in the final - the two of us both IMF executive members.






I think Pablo took the first game and things were generally quite close; even the imrovised measuring tape had to come out on a couple of occasions during the nail-biting 'Best of 7' final.





It was a good game. The loser was gracious in defeat and played a great game. I'll leave it up to you to decide who was crowned 2007 IMF Champion.