Dave Williams

With over 54 photos of Arlo, we figure not everyone will want to see every last one. So in Arlo’s Official Album we have tried to select just a few.

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to take photos, tag them and send them via email or on CD. You know who you are. Cheers.

Labels: Personal

Persimmon homes seem to think so. Each type of house design on the new Hamilton Grange Development in Worcester appears to have been named after an ancient British castle: Lancaster, Manorbier, Newark, Powderham, Richmond and Tretower.

As far as our budget is concerned, many of these designs may as well be actual castles. But, unbelievably we have now exchanged contracts on a brand new little Persimmon castle of our very own! We are due to complete at the end of Feb. It’s so close now, I can almost taste it. But we’ve been here before, and I’m trying to contain my jubilation for a couple more weeks before we get our mitts on that all important bunch of keys.

There is a lot to be said for and against new builds. On the one hand, new builds: tend to be more energy Efficient, have no upward chain, can be customised to suit our requirements and have 10-year warranty against structural problems. On the other hand: less house for the money, fewer fixtures and fittings as well as horror stories about other defects aka snags. That said, we have at least 4 friends who have recently bought older houses, and they all seem up to their ears with: plasterers, plumbers, electricians, carpenters etc. I’m sure it’ll all come good for them in the end, and I’m confident our new-build won’t be completely without it’s problems.

So which design do you think we went for? Do you care? NA me neither. Ultimately, it’s about doing what feels right for one’s family. Staying in the apartment with Emma, Arlo and Eden was never going to work. A month after Arlo’s birth, that’s all too obvious. Known and unknown problems not withstanding, this feels absolutely bob on.

Labels: Personal

Just one of a gazillion decisions Emma and I will need to take in the days and decades ahead. It did not take us very long to realise that this parenting lark is a bit of a mine field!

We had a superb xmas and new year thank you very much for asking. Themes included: food and drink, plenty of long walks to work off some of the food and drink, oh and a couple of rounds of Scrabble to make sure our brains didn’t completely seize up. We also made the most of the opportunity to enjoy a few lie-ins in advance of baby feeding and nappy changing at the inevitable 3AM.

Our 2009 promises to be a busy one. Baby should be on his way within the next few days/weeks. On the house front we’re subject to contract … again.

Before any of that though, I’ve got to take care of a xmas tree shitting pine neegles all over the carpet.

Right I’m off to eat Jam Roly-poly and watch Lark Rise to Candleford.

Top of the year to you and your’s.

Labels: Personal

Two weddings within two weeks, a handful of birthdays, my flat going on the market, my first professional twenty twenty cricket match, Lenny Henry at the Swan Theatre, one or two changes at work - there have been very few dull moments lately!

This post, should you choose to read it, is written by a slightly sleepy man sitting on concourse F at Philadelphia airport. For the past 18 hours I have been traveling to the American Council of the Blind's annual convention being held in Louisville Kentucky this year. So I've found a moment to blog, so better crack on.

Quay Mill, a renovated water mill constructed somewhere near Cambridge in the 18th century, was where my friends Kimberley and Luke tied the knot in mid June. Congratulations to you both! Very many thanks for inviting Emma and I to celebrate a truly wonderful day in such a superb setting with such a legendary bunch of people.

The short ceremony , in which Luke's grandmother reminded us that marriage was about the big things and the little things, was closely followed by a photography fest plus Champaign reception on the hotel lawn. The wedding breakfast featured beef plus a considerable quantity of red wine who's identity escapes me. For the meal I was seated with some of Luke's friends, who now maybe former friends? I miss heard Connor's name and addressed Connor as Cameron for the duration! Doh. I met a man partially responsible for the play.com web site and proceeded to give him a grilling about accessibility not equating to usability yadda yadda yadda. A student of architecture got an ear full on the relative merits of medieval Cathedral design. Oh yes I'm just the bloke you want on your table at a wedding! Luckily: the bride, the groom, the mother of the bride, the father of the groom and the best men all came to my rescue by entertaining and moving everyone with witty and erudite speeches of there own. The cake was cut and the dancing commenced.

Emma and I had traveled across by train from Worcester to Cambridge early on the Friday. Having taken a quick look at the venue online it was clear to us both that Quay Mill was somewhere to be savored. This country hotel successfully blends original architectural features, rustic furnishings, fantastic food, a wondrous whisky bar featuring no fewer than 40 single malts ... Heh I'm not on commission. Needless to say Emma and I enjoyed every moment making full use of all the facilities including several trips to the full size swimming pool, Jacuzzi and sauna.

In all sincerity, Kimberley and Luke's family and friends were: warm, welcoming, friendly, funny ... And bent over backwards ... Steady ... We felt part of the family. Thanks everyone.

Two weeks later it was my sister's big day in more ways than one. Not only was it Catherine's wedding day but she chose to marry on her 30th birthday! Below is something approximating to my Brother of the Bride speech delivered on the day.


"Good afternoon everyone,

You have all helped to make my sister's wedding a magnificent occasion. I could spend the rest of the weekend thanking everyone. However, I am under strict instructions not to. But I will say it to you when I see you. Thank you!

Catherine has kindly invited me to say just a "few" words. A task which some of my harsher critics may liken to throwing a red rag to a bull. Aren't bulls color blind? When I was trying to put this together, I found that there were so many words from which to choose and so little time in which to choose them.

There's the one about baby Catherine. Apparently she used to scream quite a lot keeping her two-year-old brother awake at night. An outrageous family legend has it that her 2-year-old brother used to smack baby Catherine's bottom to try and stop her crying. Just as well Catherine does not scream quite as much these days! You're never too old.. mate…

There's the one about When Catherine was 5 and fell off her bike. Nothing remarkable in a little girl grazing her knees. Not Catherine though, no she was admitted to hospital after the side of her face caught the handle bars which pierced her cheek! Ouch. I think Catherine became slightly more cautious after that. Although it didn't stop her bragging to me about the incident. Secretly I remember being slightly envious and seriously impressed that my little sister could be so brave and make light of so much physical discomfort.

there's all sorts of stories about when we played together as kids. When Catherine and I were children we had a car mat. The image on the mat depicted a small town including: roads, a school, a police station, fire station and houses. For hours on end we would push matchbox cars around on the mat, debate the finer points of interior decor, and pretend that we both had jobs, and our own homes a couple of miles apart. We loved that car mat.

Anything missing from the car mat, such as the odd stage for a rock and pop festival, would undergo an elaborate design before Lego construction commenced. Even then we couldn't really see the colors of the Lego bricks too well, so our constructions would rise from the carpet, indiscriminately using every brick of Lego we could lay our hands on, towering a good 7 or even 8 inches in all their garish multi-color glory!

As is sometimes the case with siblings, collaborating on major construction projects does not always pass without instant. Occasionally their would be miner disputes. Following demolition during the salvage operation, conflicts could potentially arise regarding the respective ownership of the various building materials.

One day some well-meaning soul decided to divide our Lego based on the color of the bricks. Catherine would be allocated all the blue bricks, (about a third) and I was allocated all the red (hmm about two thirds). Doh, yeh that went well. Think I probably owe you a couple of 2 by 4s mate.

In our teens, Catherine and I gained a not completely unfounded reputation for throwing the occasional outrageous party. We were once reprimanded by the local constabulary for having people on our roof and threaten with eviction by our landlord for, and I quote "beer stains on the sealing".

there was the one when Will first came to stay over with Catherine and I in Lancashire. I'm not really sure Will knew what he was getting into, think he got a bit of a shock ... no really. Will attempted to change a bulb in one of our dodgy light fittings and almost electrocuted himself! Not quite the impression either of them were hoping to make.

Will’s commitment to blind county cricket and now an international Blind football career not withstanding, Will has stood by my sister through thick and thin over the past 11 years.

During that time Catherine's academic achievements have included her BA with Honors in English from the University of Central Lancashire. I even got my hair cut for that one!

Catherine has remained fiercely independent, qualifying with her first guide dog Kresta and recently with her second dog Oak.

Catherine's Professional career started in fund-raising with the National Library for the Blind before moving into a student support role with the University of Worcester.

Following a project to raise awareness of disability in Portugal, together Catherine and Will were recipients of the National Millennium Volunteer Awards.

Catherine and Will have taken them selves off to numerous gigs including the Glastonbury festival, holidayed on the Isles of Silly, and last year enjoyed a city break in Paris.

Has anyone got any idea where they're going for their honeymoon? I think it's probably a closely guarded secret, although my money was on Oswaldtwistle.

Now here's the cheesy part mate!

As well as being my sister, for 30 years Catherine has been one of my best friends. Catherine has always been a phone call away, she has literally bandaged me up when I've been bleeding and hugged me when I have been heart broken.

Alcohol makes Catherine giddy, flamboyant and mischievous. But most of the time my sister has tremendous poise. Catherine is: caring, considered, courteous, cautious and compassionate.

Will has not tried to change Catherine to make him happy. Will has expanded Catherine's horizons, introducing her to new music, cinema and ideas. The less said about Dawson's Creek and Friends the better.

In conclusion, I am extremely proud and honored to have Catherine as my sister, and now Will as my brother in law. I have nothing but admiration and respect for their individual and joint achievements, not least of which is their first 11 years together.

Catherine and Will are just as indecisive as each other. As their family and friends we will always be frustrated by the length of time it takes them to make even the tiniest of decisions. However, we can be confident that any decisions they do make, especially the big ones, are absolutely the right ones.

To Catherine and Will!"


So there you have it. I'm all wedded and blogged out for now. Two really tremendous days and two really tremendous couples who I am sure will continue to have many happy years together. Righty I've got a flight to catch.

Labels: Personal

Just catching up with email blogs and pods after a busy couple of days.

Thursday morning saw me dragging my sorry arse into the shower at the crack of doom, 5AM to be exact, to get the train to London to speak at Tech Share. There was a lot going on in DAISY, digital tv, mobile phones, web 2.0, and much more to keep me busy over the couple of days of the conference. Probably not such a good idea to burn the candle at the other end as I basked in a torrent of abuse from a gang of rowdy rugby players from Australia and New Zealand in the hotel bar at stupid o’clock. “The only thing worse than a pommy bastard is a blind pommy bastard”!

Friday afternoon I went East to Ipswich to visit with Clare and Martin. Little did I know their would be a fire engine ablaze (doing what it said on the tin) close to the railway line somewhere on the A12 which would take me and my fellow passengers on a coach diversion into deepest darkest Essex. I got to Ipswich eventually although it would have been quicker to come back to Worcester.

The Dove then the Rose and Crown supplied the bulk of the evenings entertainment. Yours truly scared off a few locals by hammering out a couple of numbers on a freshly tuned piano before we headed back to Martin’s Penthouse which everyone knows is situated above a row of well appointed boutiques. Needless to say the whiskey was flowing like the crystal streams they say flow in heaven. It wasn’t long before Roberts was burbling somewhere on the kitchen floor and I was slump on the soap her putting the world to rights with a gentlemen from the United States.

On Saturday Gordon Brown didn’t call an election and Martin redeemed himself waking a morose me with tea and toast then posting my hangover into a taxi bound for the train station. I changed in Cambridge for Birmingham and had the company of various amusing groups of passengers. There were the chavs who between arguments sang along to banging tunes emanating from a mobile phone. The little boy and girl who tickled each other and resisted the attempts of their grandmother to get the kids moving when it was time for them to disembark. The German lady accompanied by an extremely enthusiastic mail student from Stockport.

I arrived relatively safely in Birmingham where I met with friends for a Japanese meal at a Teppanyaki restaurant. If you have not experienced Teppanyaki then I highly recommend it. Not only is it great food, but hugely entertaining.

It’s back to the office for me tomorrow.

Hope all’s well in Internet land.

All the best.

Labels: Personal, travel

I have many fond memories of my week on Islay attending the Bruichladdich whiskey academy.

The people of Islay were warm and friendly, the air was clean and the food was fresh. I was able to get my hands dirty gaining practical experience of all aspects of whiskey production from barley to bottle. Malting, milling, mashing, fermenting, distilling, filling, warehousing, bottling and needless to say tasting.

The throb of the turbo prop twin propeller aircraft landing me on Islay; the strength of the stiff sea breeze coming in off the Atlantic; the sweet taste of malted barley grains. The clacking of the mill making grist; the thunderous power of thousands of gallons of water filling Mash Tuns; the smell of fermenting yeast in washbacks; the hiss and heat in still rooms; the piece of damp and dark warehouses; the weight of bourbon barrels and sherry butts; the rhythmic clinking of the bottling line; the gentle tinckle of drams of aged single malt whiskey in nosing glasses; the unrestrained laughter of students at the university of life; these impressions of Islay and her people plus many more memories will stay with me for a very long time.

Just as well really as Mr Martin Roberts and I are now joint owners of a barrel of new make spirit which is maturing in a bonded warehouse overlooking the atlantic ocean. It should be ready to drink some time after the year 2017.

Oh and did I mention that my favourite new word is "reflux" - vapour which falls to be redistilled resulting in only the lightest cleanest vapour making it to the condenser.

Labels: Personal, travel

I have finally succumbed to peer pressure and signed up to the Book. Now I am looking for way to integrate this blog with my FB activities. Grgrgr. Everything else is ticking over just nicely.

Online - I'm enjoying the BBC iPlayer and 4OD as well as Audible where I just bought a Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon.

Offline - The Whiskey Academy on Islay bookended by weekends in Preston is fast approaching. I am wondering what to pack and what not to pack. When travelling for work the choices are pretty clear: suits ... check, Dolphin shirts .. Check, laptop ... Check, bag of smartphones and accessories ... Check. But a week on a remote Scottish island in September is a different prospect entirely. I'm hoping to squeeze in a guitar lesson and pub quiz before I go, neither of which is likely to offer any inspiration in the packing department.

In randomness - Don't look now but Liverpool are sitting astride the English Premier League! Oh and lest you forget, I am 31 in 45 days! I just bought some nectarines from the Co-op. Think I may go and try one.

Fascinating eh? This is why I don't blog much!

Labels: Personal, travel

The 2007 Edinburgh festivals are almost over. :sniff.

Entertaining house guests, (wait all year for one and then 4 come along at once) plus pending trip to Islay, oh and not forgetting the monster mortgage are all milking my various lines of credit to the max! Consequently I cannot realistically run to a quick trip up to Edinburgh this August.

What could be described as the disability media is doing its level best to make everyone feel like we are there though. You can be the judge as to whether r not they are doing a good job? Those of us who have been know there is no substitute for bingeing at the Fringe. Bar, stand-up comedy, bar, stand-up comedy, bar, play, bar, comedy, bar, sleep was all in a typical day when I went in 2005. I can't imagine what the attraction is for the Ouch and In touch teams? Anyway to the name dropping.

On-demand until 28 August In Touch features Chris McCausland - stand-up comedian with whom I went to school and college, and Sally Clay who I may have fancied the arse off once upon a time. That was before she went off to posh music college and started using all that fowl language! Anyway, they are both talented in very different ways. What with busy schedules all round they sadly do not see anywhere near enough of yours truly!

Ah well, life's a shithouse! Maybe I will save my beans and try doing Edinburgh next year.

Anyway, gotta run as my fingers are recking after
guitar lesson number 2. I've got two new chords and we even started a bit of picking. It could be wishful thinking but I am convinced I am starting to sound slightly less crap than I did last week. Watch this space.

Labels: Personal

Last Monday a friend from Preston and his young son made an impromptu visit to my flat in Worcester on their way back from holidays on the Channel Islands. I quickly realised how little I had in my home to amuse a 7-year-old boy. Braille playing cards, the Franklin Language Master talking dictionary including ten word games and the BBC kids TV channels all held limited appeal. Most excitement seemed to be derived from the front door intercom system which I usually use to talk to taxi drivers and pizza delivery people. There was lots of pressing of buzzers and running in and out of doors. Not sure what my neighbours made of it all? However, it was good to catch up with friends, have an excuse to go out of a meal and watch a DVD of their holiday.

Tuesday I had my first guitar lesson. I learnt half a dozen chords and that changing between them is a lot more difficult than it sounds. I may take up the Arts councel offer of help with buying a Guitar. Take it away is an Arts Council initiative designed to help more people get involved
in learning and playing music by offering interest free credit on the purchase of musical instrements.

At short notice Martin showed up on Wednesday. We made lite work of a few pints in my fave Worcester pub before inflicting our selvs on an unsuspecting curry house at stupid o'clock.

During Martin's visit we hatched a plan for me to join him on a spectacular trip to Islay next month. If you want to know more about this Hebridean island you could do worse than starting at the Islay blog. There is a strong possibility we could be doing a podcast or two from a distillery next month. Watch this space!

Over the weekend I have been trying to get through some of my reading list which as well as a slew of political biographies now includes a couple of titles to get me in the mood for Islay.

• PeSmokan Spirit- A portrait of Islay and its whiskeys by Andrew Jefford.


• Raw spirit; in search of the perfect dram by Ian Banks.


• Whisky galore by Compton MacKenzie Sir and Ken Stott.

Labels: Personal

I began July exhibiting Dolphin's range of assistive technology products at the forty sixth annual convention of the American Council of the Blind held in Minneapolis. The ACB elected a new President, First and Second Vice Presidents as well as a new secretary. As well as voting it was also a marvellous opportunity for me to catch up with friends and former ACB colleagues. 2007 was the first year of the ACB auction at which I got just a bit carried away bidding against the outgoing president for a special ACB edition bottle of Makers Mark which has now taken up residence in my kitchen here in Worcester. Much to my surprise and pleasure it was bourbon I found myself drinking on the final evening of convention with RNIB Chairman and president of the European Blind Union Lord Low, who described Makers Mark as "Heart warming" and rprisingly I completely agree.

During the third week in July, I attended the launch of the RNIB National Library Service at the Sight Village UK Exhibition. The service unifies access to libraries previously offered by RNIB and NLB. Hopefully by sharing overheads the RNIB NLS can reinvest any savings and substantially increase the breadth and depth of content on offer.

The final title in the Harry Potter series was waiting in my mailbox on Saturday 21 July. Frustratingly I was not here to read it as severe flooding on all routes back to Worcester meant I could not return from Birmingham following the British Computer Association of the Blind Gala dinner at which I had been invited to speak. This provided me with a perfect excuse for an impromptu visit to see friends in Preston, a hearty Sunday lunch followed by some crown green bowling in the sunshine. Thankfully my flat in Worcester escaped the flooding and so when I did get home I raided my mailbox and pretty much devoured Rowling's Deathly Hallows.

Following the Microsoft sponsored Smart Hal launch in London last week I had some leave scheduled for the end of July. Cinema, Scrabble, Worcester Walks encompassing: Worcester's Cathedral dating from the 10th century, the site of the Battle of Worcester and the Royal Worcester Porcelain Company all helped me relax. I spent a day in Birmingham including an unexpectly pleasant boat trip, followed by Mel Brooks' The Producers at the Hippodrome. Musicals are not usually my scene but I found the Producers to be an hilarious piece of offensive self-deprecating cheese worthy of a few good belly laughs.

It's August now and today I was back at work. It is nice to return to some semblance of normality. I feel suitably revitalised and enthusiastic about the next couple of months. I've got a stack of blogs and books I want to read, bellyaching over whether to attend the Edinburgh Fringe, thinking about some shelves for my flat, contemplating whether or not to learn to play the guitar?

Anyway, it's Thursday which means it's pub quizz night, it's been a while!

Labels: Personal

As someone who for the majority of his life has experienced almost complete blindness resulting from Leber's congenital amaurosis, With the advancing march of medical science, in particular stem cell research, I have been increasingly preoccupied with the dilemma of what I would choose were I faced with the possibility of loosing my blindness. While this has never really seemed like something I needed to consider seriously, it is a question which plays around in the back of my mind. Although I am not quite sure why?

During a casual conversation earlier this year a sighted friend asked if I would like to have full sight, and added.

"it would be great wouldn't it?"

I think on one level this comment was well-intentioned. But what is it they say about the road to somewhere or other being paved with good intentions? Maybe deep down may be I was just a tiny bit offended? For who would it be great? It's not like saying of a corpse.

"I wish you were still alive, it would be great wouldn't it?". I am very much alive. Doing ok I guess. Hefty mortgage, job, few friends, overseas half a dozen times in the past year, clean bathroom, average health, independence, enough confidence to get me into trouble, etc. Sure, there are far too few books in accessible formats, a lot of people still think if you are a blynk you are also deaf and hard of thinking, no current girlfriend (but that's prob more to do with general relationship phobia than not being able to see much beyond the end of my nose). I've not got too much to complain about really and in my little mind, yeah I know it's amazing anyone can live in anything so small, I would like to think that under the circumstances, most of which I won't go into, I'm reasonably well-adjusted? Ah well that's for others to judge and I guess time will tell.

Last week I started to read Crashing Through, a biography of Michael May. For people outside the assistive tech bubble, Mike is an expert on blindness GPS solutions who was offered sight restoration treatment during the late nineties. I have not finished the book yet but have been fascinated by the factors Mike, an entrepreneur working on a new venture with a young family at the time, is forced to considers when attempting to seriously evaluate the implications of taking such a step.

The story in the Guardian certainly contains more questions than answers. That said, it is well worth a read! The part which grabbed my attention was that results from trials on twelve individuals will be made public in a year!

Suddenly the question of what I would do if offered a choice seems a lot closer than at any point in the past.

Labels: Disability, Personal