Numpty nuptials

I spent the last week taking pictures at two weddings - one semi-officially and one for fun. Unfortunately, I lost a load of shots from the second wedding thanks to a memory card error - some of the best pictures I ever took, which is infuriating.

I'm sure you don't want to wade through lots of pictures of people you don't know, but in case you do, here's the stage finale of the Ras Mumhan cycle race and some bees, here's wedding 1 and here's wedding 2. I'll post a few pictures I thought were good. Mostly of donkeys. Click on them to enlarge.

Moor pictures (sorry).

We saw relatively few birds and other wildlife out on t'moors, but what there was looked good. We surprised a grouse (innocently) and disturbed this heron, of which more pictures are here. James showed me how to use my posh camera better (very typical of me to have something better than I can really handle) and he took these waterfall pictures - I took all the others. He's the chap struggling through the meadow, in case you're a single lady on the Welsh/English border.

Cynical Ben's account of the day is here.

Sat-Nav

Hello all. As it's a holiday weekend, I won't be troubling you with too many ramblings, opinions or links. What are you all doing with the break? I should be marking projects and writing PGCE essays, but as I accidentally left my Mac at work, I'll have to find some other ways to fill in the time. 

Friday saw the ascension into the firmament of Keiti Gachevska, who handed in her PhD thesis. If there's anything you need to know about organised crime in Eastern Europe, she's your go-to gal. Needless to say, a modicum of alcoholised liquid was taken in celebration. 

Saturday was also a long-awaited day - the arrival of the Cheese Boat at Norbury junction. Our motley crew (Emma, Neal, Dan and - eventually - James) converged on Gnosall (love those anglo-saxon names), walked for a couple of miles to stimulate our appetite, then set of (with a minor detour to a pub) for the junction, another couple of miles down the canal. We saw herons, a yellowhammer, lots of flowers, ducklings, and great views of the Wrekin. I'll post some photos when I get back into the office. 

The Junction hosted a rally of canalists, who are clearly divided between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat as us landlubbers. Some went for beautifully painted narrowboats, satellite dishes, those horrible painted cans and twee names. Others opted for functionality - black paint, scuffed and marked, logs and battered bikes slung over the top. 

The Cheese Boat saw us coming. Apart from stiffing me for the pickle I paid for, we were pretty impressed by the interesting variations on cheddar, and very impressed by Perl Las and Perl Wen, two organic Welsh soft cheeses. Needless to say, we bought a massive amount, and washed it down with beautiful buttery bitter (Junction Best) from the pub. 

Already suffering from tendonitis, I added sunburn to the injury list - not the last wound I'd suffer that fateful day either. Thanks to my interestingly-pale (or pasty, as my 'friends' put it), I'm a bit paranoid about sunburn, as I blister in the presence of candlelight. However, yesterday looked overcast and I forgot my hat and factor 50. Thus by the time I returned to Wolves ready for Irina's party and Blast Off, I looked like a tomato with eczema - as a disconcertingly large number of former friends pointed out. 

We made a cameo at the Bulgarian-and-assorted-computational-linguistics do, then determinedly headed out to the Civic for Blast Off, Wolverhampton's best - and only - indie night. I'd prefer more Gorky's, Tindersticks, Stereolab, Field Mice and Neu! personally, but it's pretty good. One of my media students kindly mixed me a decent cocktail and James, Neal, Emma and I added to our walk-related injuries by dancing like loons until 2.30. Somewhere along the way, I added to my injuries. Finding something determinedly attached to the sole of my Doc Marten (of course), I tried to yank it off, only to discover that it was a large and jagged chunk of glass - cue much blood. Thanks to the Civic's security and First Aid people - kind, friendly and efficient, despite the absence of a pair of scissors. I was soon 'bopping', as I believe the young folk call it, to Hot Chip as though major haemorrhaging was nothing worse than a stubbed toe. 

The only downside to the day was Stoke's battling defeat at home to West Ham, only slightly balanced by Emma's beloved Munster getting hammered by unfancied Leinster.