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1 April 2013
(Easter Monday) - A Wonderful Walk
We had a shock when we went to the er indoors TM"-mobile
this morning. Overnight some git had got into he car and ransacked it. Absolutely every single
thing had been turned over, even the fuse box opened
in case there was something worth having in there. Not much had been taken -
the loose change was gone, and so were our walking sticks. Mine was nothing
special - it cost me £3.50. But "Er"
walking stick was special. It was a one-of-a-kind hand made one. I shall find a piccie
of it and circulate it. And if we find it we shall speak nicely (!) to
whoever has it. We didn't call the police. The police have made it crystal
clear in the past that they had no interest in investigating car break-ins. Which is probably exactly what is wrong with today's society. But despite this unfortunate incident we
decided to carry on with our day's plans. It was a shame that today's walk
had had such a high drop out rate. Originally
hoping for double figured attendance we ended up with three of us (and two
small dogs). But we had a good walk. Parking at a country park near Lullingstone Roman Villa we walked up hill and down dale.
Through woods and alongside rivers. As we went we saw buzzards and foxes,
llamas and pigs, sheep and donkeys. I'm not sure of the exact distance
covered, but we started walking at 10am and got back to the car at 7pm. And
as always there are photos
of our day on-line. As we walked we picked up the occasional
geocache. I think we found thirty-seven of the things as we went. The idea
was to follow the "Wonderful Walk" series, but as we went we
got sidetracked with other caches here and there.
We definitely need to go back to the area - it's really scenic and there's lots more caches still to be found in the area. And so home. Once I'd hosed the fox poo off
of Fudge the poor dog scrambled on to my lap and was asleep within seconds.
He was worn out. I was a tad tired too. and I'd
caught the sun. It was gone 9pm before we sat down to tea.
Despite a shaky start it had been a good day... I shall ache tomorrow. |
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2 April 2013
(Tuesday) - New Battery
I was rather aching this morning, but I’m
not really surprised. Yesterday’s walk was rather keen. I started the day by getting my car battery
sorted. Oh that was fun. I shopped about on-line and found that
eurocarparts dot com were offering a deal.
And I knew that my information about this deal was correct because I had to
type my car registration number into their website for it to tell me the car
battery I wanted.
And then we wandered round Brabourne for a bit doing some geocache maintenance.
Another good place to be.
Being Tuesday the clans gathered. Tonight
was more like a geocaching event cache that anything else - there must have
been a dozen trackables being passed round and
being discovered. Tonigt's episode of Merlin was
good. And as everyone went I
I had to squander more money foolishly - my phone
was acting up - the microSD card has died. It was
at least three years old. I wonder if I have all the stuff that was on it
backed up anywhere? |
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3 April 2013
(Wednesday) - Military Debris
With my phone card having died last night I
decided to replace it there and then. We went to Asda
at 11pm. The place now offers free wi-fi. What is
that all about? I thought you were supposed to go there to do your shopping,
not muck about on the Internet. It's not as if there's a coffee shop or cafe
in there. We soon found the card I needed, priced up
at four pounds. I was quite impressed by that. I wasn't so impressed when we
ran it through the till and got charged nine pounds. I had a whinge, but to
no avail. Once home I then spent two hours copying
back all the sounds and music that had been lost when the old card went west,
re-downloading maps for hunting plastic boxes and putting the phone back to
how I want it. I like customised ring tones. That way I know who's phoning
me. Even if it does take an age to set up. I was expecting "Daddies
Little Angel TM" to visit this morning, but she was a
no-show. So I took Fudge round the block. As we walked I realised that these
days I am finding it increasingly difficult to distinguish between normal
people speaking to friends using hands-free phone technology and nutters arguing with the voices in their heads. I have a
theory that if they are brandishing a tin of Stella then they are probably
talking to voices in their heads. But not always. Once home I spent an hour clearing the undead out of NeverWinter until my Ham Street Lover
arrived. We set off to find a newly hidden geocache, and after half an hour
searching we gave up. We couldn't find it but we did find something interesting
in a rather hidden spot, It transpires that someone else found the
cache two hours previously. Either what we found was an integral part of the
cache, or we really failed utterly. I suspect failure on our part; much as
I'd rather it wasn't. I've since been reliably informed it was
both... We went on and caught up with Lisa and
Earle and hunted out some more geocaches; actually finding these ones. Which was nice. We drove to some caches, found one which
was all but buried, (which I am sure is against the rules) and walked
some on half an hour's loop. The walk was interesting; going across Ministry
of Defence land where we were admonished not to touch any military debris. I
was hoping to find half a tank or an unexploded hand grenade. We actually
found a rather lame hat. However being in camouflage material we assumed it
had been dropped by a soldier and so counted as " military
debris". As hats go it's not a bad one. I've brought it home as a
trophy of the day. The walk was soon over. It would have been good
to have carried on caching for longer but a combination of bad knees and snow
put paid to our plans. And so home, where we were fobbed off with
a couple of CHIMPS. Regular readers of this drivel may recall that the er indoors TM"-mobile
was broken into a couple of days ago. At the time I said that it would be a
waste of time telling the police because they wouldn't be interested. However
my experience was based on the not-caring attitude of yesterday's rozzers. Today's old bill has a much more hands-on
community-friendly attuitude as we found out this
evening. Against my better judgement we were
persuaded to tell the police of the incident and today (two days later)
two Police Community Support Officers, or CHIMPS (Can't Help In Most
Police Situations) came to visit. Whilst there's something inherently
satisfying in having fit uniformed women in the living room (in hi-vis jackets - woof!), they did very little other than
blather platitudes and tell us what a good dog Fudge is. I suppose this works for most of the
public... |
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4 April 2013
(Thursday) - Stuff
I went to bed at
11pm last night and got a good five hours sleep. I woke at 4pm which on a
work day isn't bad for me. For brekkie this morning
I tried some of the amazing frooty-bix cereal at
which the most recent fruit of my loin had turned up her nose. "Daddies Little Angel TM"
had brought the box home, dumped it in the cupboard and announced that I
could eat it. I'm still uncertain whether this was an act of kindness to her
beloved father, or whether she was trying to poison the old scroat. In any event I quite liked the stuff. Whilst I
was at it, I gave Furry Face a bowl of milk. He quite liked that. We were both happy
as we watched Babylon DVDs at 5.30am. Yesterday I
mentioned that I'd made a complete bog of finding a recently hidden geocache.
Overnight I'd had inspiration and I left for work early to see if my
brainwave was correct. It was. Within only a few seconds I'd found the thing,
and signed the log. The electronic record timed it at 6.30am. As I was signing
another car pulled up. Surely it could only be another cacher?
Who else would be up and about in that particular area at that time of day? I didn't recognise
the bloke who got out of the car. He looked about in a rather shifty sort of
way. He clearly didn't see me, and he strode off across a field. He went up
to the only big tree in the area, rummaged, and he came back carrying a very
large package. He put this package in his car and drove off. I wonder what that
was all about? And so to work where
I did my bit whilst we pondered how we might fortify a hospital to withstand
a zombie apocalypse. Opinion was divided on the matter. Some felt that a
hospital doesn't lend itself to becoming a defensible structure; others
thought that a hospital would be a veritable fortress. I couldn't make up
my mind, so stayed neutral in what became a rather heated discussion. After a rather
interesting start the day turned out being rather dull... |
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5 April 2013
(Friday) - Blame
Another early start saw me scoffing my frooty-bix cereal and Fudge lapping up his bowl of milk
well before 6am. I got my morning's fix of Babylon 5 and set off to work. As I drove I had a wry smile at the news,
and found myself pondering on the way that today's society assigns blame. Take for example the Welsh measles epidemic.
When the fruits of my loin were much smaller we had a dilemma. Should we give
them the MMR vaccine to protect them against clear
and present disease risks? Or should we not give them the vaccine because of
vague unpsecified scaremongering? At the time the
newspapers were rife with stories about how terrible the MMR
vaccine was, and how dangerous it was. We ignored the scare-stories and got
them jabbed. It would seem that at the time the local rag in Swansea ran a
rather impressive campaign against the MMR vaccine
and a generation grew up in south Wales un-immunised. History has shown that we made the right
decision. The residents of Swansea have all have found out that there is far
more to measles than a few spots. The news pundits were saying that because
the scare stories were so long ago no blame can now be assigned to the local
newspaper. I found this rather odd - celebrities now in their eighties are being
hounded about allegations of what they might or might not have done forty
years ago. Why can't a journalist be held accountable for what they
demonstrably did twenty years ago? In a classic sign of our times the senior
Welsh health officials being interviewed on the radio this morning tried to
blame it all on the English. Apparently some Welsh kids mixed with some
English kids and caught the disease. Perhaps I'm being thick (again), but I
thought that passing diseases around each other was what kids do best. Or consider the recent
HBOS banking collapse. I don't realy understand
what happened. I don't think anyone really foresaw what was going to happen.
Whilst it was terrible, and whilst mistakes probably were made, is looking
for scapegoats really a better way to proceed rather than trying to learn the
lessons of what actually went wrong? Mind you in both these cases I suppose it's
easier to assign blame to someone than to try to make sense of something
which is probably beyond most people's understanding. An obvious scapegoat is
always useful to have. And it's also interesting that the media are in no way
held accountable for the consequences of their actions. Meanwhile my dog is incredibly quiet and
has a very odd smell. I wonder if he's eaten something he shouldn't have.. |
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6 April 2013
(Saturday) - Folkestone Harbour
I spent a rather frustrating five minutes
this morning trying to find the remote controller for the DVD machine. It
eventually came to light (literally) after I extricated it from inside
the sofa. Every household gadget these days has a remote control without
which you can't operate them. Which is fine until *someone* shoves
them inside the sofa. I have my suspicions who the
guilty party might be... The original plan for the day had me going
off to Chatham's historic dockyards. However last weekend's mishaps
effectively put paid to going Chatham-wards; having spent all
the Chatham budget on a new car battery and phone memory card. Instead we went round to see "My
Boy TM" who was having new lights fitted in the hallway,
courtesy of Hosey-Tek. The ground floor lights were
good, but the ones for upstairs needed bulbs so I went round to B&Q with
the first fruit of my loin to get batteries. And then on to Asda for the makings of lunch. Whilst in Asda we
had a phone call. We didn't need the light bulbs as the light fitting was knacked and had to go back to the shop. So we returned
the light bulbs to B&Q. The nice lady in the shop said they operated a
refund policy for anything brought back within forty five days. We'd had the
light bulbs for about forty five minutes. Back to base, a quick sausage baguette, and
then we went to Folkestone for a walk about. Meeting "Daddies Little Angel TM"
and Sid by the harbour we wandered up to the coastal park for a mooch, then back to the harbour for cockles and a stroll
on the beach before going back to see Jose. We had a go on his 3-D TV. Very
nice. And so home. With er
indoors TM" off out flogging candles, me and Fudge were
left to our own devices. The dog seems to have perked up since yesterday, but
he still smells odd. I think he's been eating Parma Violets. I wonder if he
can smell it too. Perhaps the odd smell is the reason why he rolled in fox
poo then jumped in the river during our walk this evening. Rolling in fox poo
is something I've come to expect from Fudge, but jumping in the river is new.
There is a stretch of land we regularly
walk along. Fenced on one side; river on the other. He regularly runs along
this path off of the lead because he can't get through the fence and the
river has always acted as a barrier to him and he has never, ever, swum. Tonight we found out he can swim. For no reason at all he leapt into the
river, swam straight across, climbed up the other side and charged off into
the wild blue yonder. A few minutes before this episode we had been doing
whistle training so (in panic and desperation) I blew the whistle. It
worked. He stopped dead, turned round and charged back to me. However when he
reached the river he pulled an emergency stop and looked at me. I could see
the amazement and confusion on his face. Where had all that water come from?
He then ran up and down the river bank in panic. Somehow I got his attention
and ran myself. He followed, and once at a bridge we were re-united. If ever
a dog looked relieved it was Furry Face. I didn't need to put him back on the lead -
he stayed by my side from then on. And so home. Bath time for both of us, and
as I type this blog entry the dog snores are louder than the television... In closing I would point out to any geocachers who might be reading that there might just be
a new puzzle cache going live locally. "Maelstrom #3"
shouldn't be that difficult... |
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7 April 2013
(Sunday) - Mereworth
Earlier in the week
a geocachical chap of my acquaintance asked if
anyone fancied going for a walk as a ruse for finding a geocache or two. He
suggested a mooch round Mereworth
- somewhere I've not been before. We set off at 9am and having picked up a
crafty cache on the way six of us (and two small dogs) met up by Mereworth church. The first church was a multi involving
solving puzzles. Everyone else had already arrived and solved the puzzle and
was prepared to set off walking half a mile in an easterly direction. Out of
a sense of doing the right thing I had a crack at solving the puzzle. My
solution involved walking quarter of a mile in a westerly direction. Since
west was the direction we wanted to be going in, the consensus of opinion was
to try my solution. Fortunately it turned out to be right. I was rather
pleased about that. However it pays not to be too smug, as I was soon to find
out. And then we set off
along the Mereworth Meander. Billed as a series of
thirty one geocaches along a walk off six and a bit miles we ended up with
having done thirty six over a ten mile walk. Including one which required a soduku expert to solve a puzzle. Half way round was
a puzzle cache that I'd solved before we'd set out. We sat down to a picnic
lunch just before going to this cache. I called up the details, entered my
solution into my geocompass, and realised that I''d stuffed it up. My answer was miles away. So I asked
for pencil and paper and worked it all out again. This time I worked it out
properly. Perhaps somewhat appropriately this cache was called "bird
brain" (!) Today was a good
walk out with friends. Two of our number found their 1000th caches, one found
his 1200th cache, and I got my 1450th. Both dogs
were well behaved - Suzy is never any trouble anyway, but Fudge was good for
all of the time for a change. We finished walking
at 4pm (six hours walking) and Dave asked if we fancied visiting his
new cache before going home; he'd taken one on. It would have been rude not
to have had a look, so we went to "forgotten
gate". When we got there we disturbed a couple who were
indulging in a spot of al-fresco rumpy-pumpy. It
was great - Kallie even saw their leopard-skin undercrackers. We soon found this cache that Dave had
taken on. But of more
interest was the forgotten gate. It was huge - an enormous structure -
obviously once a gatehouse to Mereworth
Castle; now fallen into disrepair. Well off the beaten track and left to
fall to pieces. It would have been
good to have carried on, but time was pressing so we said our goodbyes and
made our separate ways home. We had an errand to run in Sittingbourne, so
that was where we went, picking up one or two more caches as we went. But
once in Sittingbourne it was obvious from the three mile tailbacks that the
road back to Ashford was blocked. So we decided to come home via Faversham. No one had told us
that the road from Faversham to Ashford was also closed. We eventually came
home via Canterbury, stopping off on the way to pick up a geocache named
"Forrest and the Wombles". It was
probably too late to be messing around like that, but with a name like "Forrest
and the Wombles" we couldn't resist it. Today was a good
day out with friends, a good walk for the dogs, and a successful hunt for
small plastic boxes; finding all forty four of the ones we tried for. As always there are photos
of the day on-line, Once (eventually)
home Fudge was bathed, as was I, and the little dog was soon fast asleep and
snoring. As was I... |
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8 April 2013
(Monday) - Bit Dull
I was woken by a loud thump at about 3am. I
assumed it was Fudge jumping the dog-proofing on the kitchen gate, and so I
expected to feel him jump on the bed after a few seconds. He does that
sometimes. But not this time. I pondered on what the noise might had been,
but it the absence of any more racket I carried on dozing fitfully. When I
went downstairs at 5.30am Furry Face was curled up in his basket (where he
was supposed to be). I wonder what that crashing had been earlier
. And so another early start saw me scoffing
my frooty-bix cereal and Fudge lapping up his bowl
of milk before 6am. I got my morning's fix of Babylon 5 and I set off to
work. For once the morning's news was
unremarkable. There were ructions about the Prime Minister's proposed tour
around Europe; apparently the rest of the European Heads of State are seeing
it as little more than a political publicity stunt. As if any politician's
activities have ever have been anything else. There was concern about changes
to the welfare benefits; those that need the benefits don't get them. Those
that don't need it do get them. Same as it ever was, unfortunately. And
apparently some dead South American author is to be exhumed after thirty
years to see if he really died of natural causes or to see if he was
poisoned. All rather dull. For once my piss remained
at ambient temperature. Two new geocaches had gone live (almost)
along my way to work. I could have stopped off and had a hunt for them. But I
hadn't allowed myself enough time. I'll save them for later. And so to work where I did my bit. I can't
really complain. It's no secret that I would like to change what I do for a
living. It's also no secret that after eighteen months of active job hunting
I've got nowhere. So I shall stick with what I know. The morning's news was unremarkable - the
evening's not so. Margaret Thatcher had died during those intervening few
hours. I can remember when she came to power. The country was in a terrible
state. She sorted things out. She was a force to be reckoned with. Love her
or loathe her; people respected her... at the start. After eleven years of
her it all wore rather thin. History will probably quote her as an
example of why Americans only let their presidents serve for two terms... |
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9 April 2013
(Tuesday) - Porkers
I had a very
intense dream last night. About something rather trivial. I dreamed I was
testing a new shaving razor. Nothing interesting or remarkable, but it was
very vivid. This morning I found that the vibrating circuit in my trusty
Gillette Mach III had given up the ghost. I need a new razor. Co-incidence or
premonition? If it was premonition I just wish it had been about something
more interesting; something on which I might have put a bet at the bookies
and won some money. And so to work. I
had planned to pick up the two new geocaches which had appeared on my route
to Canterbury over the weekend. But the rain was rather heavy, so I decided
against it. Whilst on my way I
pulled in at the farm shop and bought some rather expensive chutney for
Friday's planned extravaganza. And to counteract having bought something
worth having I then stopped off at the cheapo-bargains emporium. I like that
place. No curly-wurlies this time, but chocolate
frogs were available at discount rates. However it has to be said that my
piss boiled a little in this shop. Some people bother
me. Take for instance several such people I encountered today in the
cheapo-bargains emporium. With the entire universe to fart around in, why do
epically fat people choose the smallest alleyways and gangways to stop in. Surely they could have a rest, stare into space, go
into a trace or desperately gasp for air anywhere. If they are having a heart
attack, then that is understandable and I will allow them that. But to choose
to deliberately block up the passage of the rest of humanity in general (and
me specifically) for no adequately explored reason is just anti-social. There were several
such hyper-tubsters in the shop today. *Really*
fat people - so fat that they didn't walk. Instead they actually lumbered;
with each step throwing their weight from side to side and then flinging a
leg out to catch themselves before gravity made them
collapse. All of them acting as though they were the only people in the shop;
all randomly stopping whenever and wherever the voices in their head told
them to pull up. Mostly at the narrowest parts of the shop; in aisles next to
where shelf filling was in progress, in the doorways, wherever three other
mega-lardies had already stopped to gossip. All in
places where had they moved on only two more yards they wouldn't have been in
anyone's way. The fifth such
porker to block my passage this morning (!) nearly (but not quite) got pushed
flat on its chubby face and then trampled over. The next one certainly will be(!) As I drove I
listened to the news on the radio. I say "news" - there was no news
today. Just lots of talk about the recently deceased Margaret Thatcher. Some
were praising her, some reviling her. As always politics divides society. One
of the morning's commentators made an interesting point - "Thatcherism"
has become a political byword, "Heathism",
"Majorism", "Blairism",
"Brownism" and "Cameronism"
have not. Having lived
through the Thatcher era I can say that I voted her in and I voted her out.
And I'm sure that I speak for a lot of people when I make the comment that,
like many mistakes, she seemed to be a good idea at the time. Which
is what the fat people probably thought about randomly stopping dead wherever
the mood took them... |
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10 April 2013
(Wednesday) - Bedgebury Again
Here's something of note.
Regular readers of this drivel will know that I often rant about my sleep
patterns. I rarely sleep more than four hours at night, and spent much of my
so-called waking time nodding off. It turns out that this idea of "eight
hours sleep" is a relatively modern concept. Historically people
would sleep for three or four hours, get up, do stuff for an hour in the
middle of the night, and then go back to sleep again. Researchers have found
over five hundred historical references to people doing this sort of thing. I
might try that for myself. Among my collection of lame DVDs is the
complete "Blake's 7". Billed as a "classic",
at the time (thirty years ago) it was one of the best sci-fi shows
there was. Computer generated imagery and super special effects were still
years into the future, so like all sci-fi at the time they didn't try to
disguise the fact that the sets wobbled, the props were made of old washing
up liquid bottles and the monsters were men in rubber suits. Instead they
employed actors who could act convincingly and they made a show with a plot.
And the plots was (usually) good enough to
take your mind off of the fact that the sets were wobbling and the monster
was clearly a man in a rubber suit. Recently much sci-fi hasn't bothered with
plots; hoping instead that CGI will blind the public to the fact that modern
sci-fi isn't so much about telling a story as it is about showing off the
latest advances in computer technology I see Blake's 7 is
to return to
our screens. I'm hoping for great things. I bet I will be disappointed.
Mind you they re-made "Battlestar Galactica" which was from the same era and that
worked. With brekkie
scoffed I put some laundry out on the line to dry. "Daddies
Little Angel TM" arrived with Sid. We swapped a few
insults, and then said our goodbyes. I had plans for the day - plans she had
already declared to be "lame". Four of us (and two dogs of differing
sizes) set off to Bedgebury. Regular readers of
this drivel may recall that over the last few weeks and months I've already
been on two geocaching missions to Begebury. There
are a *lot* of caches there, and today we intended to find all of the
ones that we hadn't already found. We went with a list of thirty caches to be
brought to light. We had a good time - a really good walk in the company of
good friends who understand that my little dog has his little episodes. A
walk in the fresh air in beautiful scenery. A walk past the ice cream van who did Whippys with monkey
blood. (Am I really the only person in the world who calls the strawberry
sauce in ice cream vans "monkey blood").
A walk through the woods and the mud. And the caches - really clever multi-s and
puzzles. Some easy to find. Some difficult. Some needing props and tools to
find. And three of our thirty targets eluded us. Certainly one of them had
gone - we found the hide but the cache had gone. One was supposed to be
behind a tree. It might have been once but I wasn't convinced that it still
was. And the third gave us the slip completely. We started walking at 10am; we got back to
the car shortly before 4pm. Steve found his 450th cache, Lisa & Earle
found their 1150th and I found my 1500th. Is 2000 before August too
ambitious? We shall have to make another trip to Bedgebury to find those last three caches. But that won't
be a bad thing; there are worse places to be. Full marks to the chap who has hidden those
caches. It's clear that a lot of time and effort has gone into filling Bedgebury with those caches and I for one am very
grateful. And so home again to the domestic trivia.
Planning to mow the lawn tomorrow I harvested all the dog dung that was
littering in. And again I blocked the toilet with the dog dung. Planning to
do the ironing tomorrow I got the laundry in from the line. Most of it was
dry. I then sat myself in front of the telly with a small dog (fast asleep)
sprawled over me. It can be a tough life sometimes.. |
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11 April 2013
(Thursday) - Housework
I have often mentioned that God laughs when
we make plans. Today was always going to be dull. So I'd resigned myself to
using the day to get the housework done. Yesterday I'd got the lawn ready for
mowing (at not inconsiderable effort) only to find that it had rained
overnight and the grass was soaking wet. After a spot of brekkie
I took wet laundry to the washing line to get it dry only to find it was
still raining. The next job was Fudge's walk - which neither of us would enjoy
in the rain. So I consulted the weather forecast (I know!) which
predicted that the rain would have stopped by 10am. It was time for a
judicious rethink of the day's plans. If I did the tip run and supermarket
shopping first....? So that's what I did. Round to the tip. At
the moment Ashford has a temporary tip whilst the proper one is being
refurbished. I had an old florescent light tube that I needed to get rid of.
I asked the chap at the tip which bin it should go in. The twonk informed me that the "tip facilities are
unable to process florescent light tubes at the present juncture until the
new facilities are working down the road like". There's nothing
quite like truly stupid people trying to sound official. I asked the idiot
where I might find alternate facilities. He told me that "they can be
found at most retail shops like supermarkets", so I stuck it in with
the glass recycling at Sainsburys. I hope that was
the right thing to do. If it wasn't then I'm sorry, but would it have hurt
the council to have employed someone who might have been helpful. Home, and I took Fudge
for a walk. I'd had a report that one of the geocaches
I'd hidden had gone. Two days ago I got a message "Cache had been
destroyed. Found the remnants and disposed of". Today we went to
have a look-see. The cache was exactly where it was supposed to be. I wonder
what that message was all about? Feeling flushed at
having found that where it was supposed to be we went down to Park Farm to
look for a cache that Lisa had hidden a week ago, and completely failed to
find it. And so we came home. As we walked so I noticed that I'd developed a
blister. A spot of lunch, and seeing that the lawn
was still too wet for mowing I attacked the ironing. There was a lot of it.
As I ironed I watched a film I'd recorded onto the Sky-Plus box. I've always
been a fan of post-apocalyptic fiction, but I was disappointed. "Contagion" was
probably one of the worst films I've ever seen. I don't know why, but I
watched it to the bitter end. I wish I hadn't. With that over I resorted to
Babylon 5 DVDs to keep me amused whilst I finished the ironing. And with undercrackers and socks sorted I then stitched up the
hole that I'd ripped into my troosers last week,
before tidying up and hoovering round. Hoovering with a Dyson. Some days are dull. Today wasn't riveting,
but I didn't have time to get bored... |
|
12 April 2013
(Friday) - Cheese and Chutney
It rained hard in the night. The rain was
so loud against the window that it woke me up. I wish it wouldn't do that. It
woke me up on the rare occasion that I was actually getting some sleep, and
it boiled my piss that the ground was going to be very wet underfoot for
walking later in the day. In the absence of "Daddies
Little Angel TM" I took Fudge round the block for a walk.
As we went through the Bowens Field (very) wetlands park I noticed
something in the pond. Someone's cuddly "Barney the dinosaur"
had drowned. Rather sad really. And after that fatality the rest of our walk
was rather dull. And so home. Fudge took himself off to his
bed and went to sleep, so I went out with a clear conscience. The O'Lata's were going on a walk and I was going with them.
From Sevington to Mersham
and back. It was as well Fudge didn't seem up for it - I've already hosed mud
off of him twice this week. As we started walking so the rain started
and it looked rather miserable. But as we walked so the weather picked up and
we had quite a good stroll. Only a short one - just over two hours, but it's
all good exercise even if very muddy. And so home. A spot of lunch, and with
Fudge asleep on my lap I administered his monthly anti-flea treatment. He
didn't seem too bothered about it; which was just as well. And having pretty
much wasted the rest of the afternoon, once er
indoors TM" was home we went round to Queen Street where
the tribes were gathering for cheese and chutney. A wonderful evening with friends. Must do
it more often... |
|
13 April 2013
(Saturday) - Raining
Bearing in mind the amount of cheese,
chutney and mild I scoffed last night, my guts weren't in too bad a state
this morning. Which was probably as well for the universe
and its denizens. Specifically those who inhabited the bit of it in my
general vicinity today. I emerged from my pit shortly before 6.30am
this morning and having checked on cyber-space I set off to work a little
earlier than I might have done. I don't mind working at weekends, but everyone
else would be up to mischief, so I thought I'd get up to just a little
myself. Earlier in the week I'd not gone for the two geocaches that had
recently gone live on the Canterbury road. Today I went for them. One was in
a really scenic place - just by the riverside. A really pretty river view
that I drive within fifty yards of on my way to work, and I had no idea that
it was there. Having nearly fallen in the river before
finding the cache I enjoyed the view for a couple of minutes before moving on
to find the next cache which was rather dull in comparison. As I drove, as always, I listened to the
news. Today's made me think. What do we actually know of the world around us
other than what we are told by others? The news commentators were reporting a
story about Madonna who is currently doing
various good works in Malawi Apparently some of the locals don't like
her, and have slated her efforts. The pundits on the radio were also very disparaging
about her, and contrasting her efforts with Angela Jolie who was being held
up as some sort of role model, as was (interestingly) Bono. This surprised me
as I'd always been led to believe that Bono was a bit of a twit. But on
reflection this belief was based entirely on what I've read about the bloke
by people who obviously had axes to grind. It turns out that the chap is
actually quite knowledgeable. I really shouldn't believe all that I read.
And so to work where I did my bit. I did
look out of the window at the glorious day outside several times this
morning. But as the day wore on the bright morning gave way to an overcast
and wet afternoon. And I spent much of the evening listening to the rain
hammering of the windows and being glad that i was
at work for such awful weather. The original plan for the day did have me
going for a weekend in Brighton - unfortunately this was put on hold when I
realised that I'd forgotten that I was rota-ed to
work. It turns out that all was for the best. The rain was torrential down in
Sussex. And whilst at work I got an email through
my work account. An old mucker had got in touch - someone I've not heard from
in over twenty years. He was an usher at my wedding. He seems well. Must
organise a meet-up... |
|
14 April 2013
(Sunday) - At Work
I went to bed shortly after midnight last
night with the alarm set for 6.30am. I woke at 5.30am, so that's not bad
really. After I'd done the washing up, I sorted brekkie. Frooty Bix for me, a bowl of milk for Fudge. I've heard that
milk's not good for him. I need to do some research. It worries me that he
drinks so little for a dog that tiddles so much. If
nothing else, giving him milk gets fluid into him. Once he'd had his milk I terrorised Furry
Face for a few minutes before setting off perhaps slightly earlier than I
might have done. But Sunday mornings are especially quiet and so are ideal
for a spot of lone geocaching on the way to work. A group of people lurking
about looking suspicious is nowhere near as dodgy-looking as one person on their
own looking suspicious. There's not many caches
left that I haven't found within striking distance of home, but one such was
at Wye downs. A rather beautiful spot. I was amazed to find that there was a
car in the car park when I pulled up at 7.25am, but the occupants of the car
were busy with what they were doing. I won't dwell on what they were up to;
suffice it to say that I have heard the practice billed as a cure for
tonsillitis. I did my thing, I
quickly found the cache, did the secret geocaching ritual known only to the
initiated, hid the thing again, enjoyed the view and was soon back on my way.
In the meantime those in the other car
carried on slurping and being slurped, seemingly oblivious to the world
around them. I would have thought that 7.25am on a Sunday morning was rather
early to have driven up to Wye downs for a nosh. But I expect that those who
engage in al-fresco sword swallowing probably think that 7.25am on a Sunday
morning was rather early to go looking for plastic boxes. I then came on to Canterbury via Chartham where I picked up another cache. Geocaches are
graded on a D/T scale. D being "difficulty" - how hard the thing is
to find, and T being "Terrain" - how hard it is to get to the
cache. Both numbers being on a scale of one to five. This second cache of the morning was rated
1.5/4. Having looked it up I was dubious. A
difficulty rating of 1.5 shouldn't be that hard to find, but a terrain rating
of four... I have hidden two caches myself which are inside rubber ducks
floating in rivers which I have rated as terrain 4. I was expecting to
struggle to get at the cache. Would it be up a tree, in a swamp....? I was wrong - it was easy to get to. Whilst
someone in a wheelchair might have had a tricky time, it was certainly
accessible by push chairs. I can only imagine that there has been some forest
clearance which has taken place since the cache was hidden. Certainly the
terrain rating might benefit from a tad of adjustment. As I drove, the radio was talking of
vaguely religious matters, as it often does on a Sunday. There was an
argument between two Hindus, one of high caste and one of low caste.
Apparently there is legislation in Parliament to make it illegal for those of
high caste to discriminate against those of low caste. The chap who was of
low caste was all for the legislation, as one might expect. The chap who was
of high caste felt the whole thing was silly as no one ever discriminated
against him, his family or his social circle. As one might expect.
Furthermore he went on to point out (in a rather patronising way) that the
whole concept of caste discrimination was nonsense. Apparently it never
affects anyone of any importance (!) It was a sad demonstration of the fact that
we need this legislation that the low caste chap's arguments were nowhere
near as convincing as the high caste chap's arrogance. The radio then wheeled on several
self-appointed pundits who squabbled about the personal religion of Margaret
Thatcher. Apparently Mag Thatch had announced that she was Christian, and had
also made it known that she felt very deeply about her religious convictions.
Some of the pundits defended her position, others attacked it. None with any
real credibility. Did she have a deep religious belief? I don't know. Does
anyone ever know if someone else actually believes in their professed
religion or is just going through the motions because it is expected of them. Like I used to. And then it was time for the radio's Sunday
service. I've whinged about the broadcasted Sunday services in the past. I'm
not keen on the happy-clappy form of worship;
preferring something rather more traditional myself. However there is a fine
line between "traditional" and "dreary". Today's service
had crossed that line. And so to work. As I'd driven the scenic
way to work through various country lanes I had encountered several floods.
The usual suspects were off walking dogs today (and looking for tupperware too). I exchanged a few texts during the
day if only to see what I was missing. They'd gone to Bedgebury
- where I went last Wednesday. It was rather wet underfoot in places a few
days ago. Much as I like being out and about, judging by the floods I'd
driven through this morning I think that were I to have picked a weekend to
work, this might have been one of the better ones. And the wind was rather
excessive at times. Walking when it's blowy is no fun. I kept telling myself that as the day went
on. And so home where I caught up with
yesterday's episode of Doctor Who. It could have been a good episode. I fell
asleep... |
|
15 April 2013
(Monday) - This n That
With no bread for
my morning toast I popped over the road to the local shop to get some. Not
only was it thirty pence more expensive than Tesco, their stuff wasn't at all
fresh - verging almost onto being stale. And people wonder why the general
public prefer supermarkets over smaller establishments. But even stale
bread can make good toast. Or it could given
a good toaster. I think ours is on the way out. It has two settings. One
slightly warms the bread, the other incinerates it. I took Fudge for
his morning constitutional. Last Thursday I'd taken him down to Park Farm to
look for a recently hidden geocache. After half an hour's searching last week
I'd given up. Today, after a silly episode in which I nearly fell in the
river, I found the cache almost immediately. We then carried on with our
walk. We found a discarded supermarket trolley about half a mile from
Tesco's. Whoever had dumped it had carried it over a fence and across several
hundred yards of field to leave it where it was. Whatever possesses people to
do that? We carried on through Park Farm to a new estate that "Daddies Little Angel TM"
has dubbed "Legoland". She's not
wrong in her description. The estate is on it's own
with nothing around it, and the houses (in all honesty) look as though
they are made of Lego. As we walked by the
river I remembered Fudge's swimming episode of the other week, but
nevertheless I let him off the lead. He made a bee-line to the river and I
heard a plop. And another plop. The frogs seemed to
be bothering him. We eventually made
our way home past "Pets at Home" where I popped in and asked
about whether or not Furry Face should be having milk. Opinion was vague. She
wouldn't advise it because some dogs are lactose intolerant and it might give
them the two bob bits. I explained that he's been having it for some time and
all has been fine. Their reply was non-committal. I've since done an Internet
search and it seems that the best way to find out if your dog is lactose
intolerant is to give him some and see if he gets the squits.
I've done that experiment already. I shall carry on
giving him a small bowl of milk in the morning. The milky goodness is good
for him, and I like to see him drink anything which isn't murky muddy water. And so home.
Finally with some fine weather I got into the garden and hung out Fudge's
bedding which had been washing whilst we were walking. More laundry went into
the washing machine whilst I mowed the lawn and mucked out the pond's fish
poo filter. The pond has been reactivated after its winter sleep; a month
later than it was last year. I also turned on all the water features to give
them a run through. Fudge had quite
a bit to say about my large fountain. I can't believe I've not used it to
wind him up before. More laundry onto
the line, more laundry into the washing machine, and after a quick spot of
lunch I went to the hospital to visit. There was someone with a kidney
infection who needed cheering up. There was a minor mishap when I realised
I'd left her get well card in the car, but she
seemed in good spirits, if in a bit of pain. I stayed for a couple of hours,
but really had to come home. Dull domestic chores don't finish themselves,
you know. I eventually finished dull domestic trivia shortly after 6pm.
Amazing how long it takes to just fiddle about. Steve and Sarah
called round to collect the barrel of mild for the weekend. I was rather
pleased with how last week's mild turned out. I have high hopes for this next
batch... |
|
16 April 2013
(Tuesday) - Stuff
A good night's sleep, and with little of
note in social media I set off to work. The news on the radio was all about
the recent tragedy in Boston. Was it a terrorist attack? The pundits seem to
be very cagey. So far no crackpot group has claimed responsibility. For myself I can't help but wonder why
anyone would target innocents like that. There's no denying there are some
people to whom I would wish harm. Not many, but they exist. I suspect they
know they are on my poop list too... But were I
daft enough to drop a rock on them I would make sure that no innocent
bystanders got hit by that rock. There was also talk on the same radio show
about why we haven't found any aliens. It seemed an odd topic to have on the
morning's news program. The old chestnuts, the Fermi paradox and the Drake
equation, were wheeled out again. As were the ideas that if were aliens going
through the galaxy in years gone by then they would have already set up a
colony on prehistoric Earth. Interestingly today's experts seemed to be
of the opinion that we haven't found aliens because we're not using the right
technology to find them. They were rather vague about what technology one
might use to find an alien, as one might expect them to be. Presumably they
were loathe to mention illudium-Q space modulators in case the public thought
the worst of them. This reminded me of the astro-biology
course I completed a few weeks ago. I got a distinction for that. It prompted
me to have a look on the Coursera web site this
evening to see what else I might learn. I've signed up for a course in
psychology (of all things). It will either help me to be more understanding
of the idiosyncrasies of my fellow man, or it will make me more astute in
spotting loonies. I wonder which it will be. Time
will tell - it always does. I stopped off on my way to work at Morrisons to fill the car with petrol. Sixty quid's worth
of the stuff. Ouch! And then (since it was in the area) I popped in to
the cheapo bargains shop. The other day I whinged about the fat people in
that shop who were getting in my way. As I pulled up there were a gaggle of
porkers heading towards the door. Would you believe it - once at the door
they all stopped (blocking it entirely) to have a gossip. And so to work where I did my bit. In days
gone by I used to do far more than just my bit. Not today though. Over the weekend one of my colleagues had
had a birthday so we got to scoff cakes. That's always good. Being on a very late finish I wasn't at the
weekly gathering of the clans. I've not been there for two consecutive weeks
now. I'm missing my weekly fix of bandying insults and spotting the
historical mistakes in Merlin... |
|
17 April 2013
(Wednesday) - Solving Puzzles
What with not
getting home till gone 10.30pm and having a rather late tea and one thing and
another it was gone 1.30am before I went off to my pit last night. So it's
not really surprising that I didn't emerge until 8am this morning. I was half
expecting "Daddies Little Angel TM"
and Sid to visit today, but she was working. So Fudge and I went off for a
walk on our own. Past the International train station, almost as far as Arden
Drive, then round to Henwood, the Willesborough railway crossing, Frog's Island and home
past Asda. Two hours exercise can't be bad. Fudge was allowed
off his lead at three different stages of the walk and he was as good as
gold; coming back when called every time. Even when he saw a rabbit and gave
chase he only chased for a little while before coming back. We came home to
find "My Boy TM" at home, and exchanged some
insults before he set off on his way. I put washing on the line and then
after a crafty spot of lunch I spent a couple of hours doing dull homework. And then I spent a
frustrating couple of hours solving two relatively local puzzle caches.
Eventually I had their locations - all that remained was for me to go and to
the secret geocaching thing with them. With er indoors TM" off to a
conglomeration of candlemongers this evening, me
and Fudge were at a loose end. So we set off to find those two puzzle caches
that I'd solved earlier. We found both. We could open neither. Both required that
I took along the print-outs that I'd used to locate the caches. I'd not
printed out the vital bit that I'd needed for one, and the print quality was
too faint for me to see what I needed for the other. And it was getting dark.
So once home I
copied a certain picture to my phone and consulted wikipedia
some more. I might just go back to those caches tomorrow. I wonder if Furry
Face would like another walk. As I type this the poor dog is snoring. I think
he's had walkies overload... |
|
18 February 2013
(Thursday) - Which Direction ?
Yesterday evening me and Fudge set off to find two puzzle caches that I'd
solved earlier in the day. Despite finding both of them we could open
neither. Both required that I took along the print-outs that I'd used to
locate the caches. I'd not printed out the vital bit that I'd needed for one,
and the print quality was too faint for me to see what I needed for the
other. So once home I copied a certain picture to my phone and consulted wikipedia some more. After a spot of brekkie
this morning me and Fudge got a lift of off er
indoors TM" (who was driving near to where we wanted
to be) to try our luck again. One cache opened
easily. We felt very pleased with ourselves, did the secret geocaching ritual
and went on to the other cache. If anyone is reading this blog entry in the
hopes of getting a hint for this other
cache.... sorry. Suffice it to say that finding
the cache is easy, getting in not so. I thought that having a photo of the
clue would help me. I needed to actually write down what I thought my
solution to the puzzle was. I hadn't written it down. We came home the
long way. As we walked it was windy, but a lovely day. We saw blue tits in
the hedgerows, a hawk was hovering not five yards
over the footpath. Rabbits were in the fields, blossom was (finally)
on the trees and Fudge behaved himself mostly. He even came off the lead a
few times and was fine. Once home I had a
spot of cheese on crisps on toast for lunch and posted a "sulk note"
on the cache's web page for the cache tat was
giving me gyp. I spent an hour or so clearing thugs and ruffians out of
NeverWinter and I theen
had a message via Facebook. From the nice lady who had hidden the cache I was
struggling with. She said that when
I next was going up to try to open the cache I might send her a message with
my solution so as to save me a wasted journey if it was wrong. I thought that
was a very kind gesture, and we got cyber-chatting. Whilst not angling for
hints I wondered if I was on the right lines with my solution. It turned out
I wasn't completely wrong, and after a bit of head scratching I sent her a
solution. She sent back the thumbs up. So at 4pm I put
Fudge's lead on him and we walked the hour's walk to the cache. This time the
thing opened up right away, and I was able to log my find. As I've said
before caches are rated on difficulty and terrain. Both scales from one to
five. The terrain on this one was 2.5, which takes a bit of effort. But the
difficulty is rated at 5. I did feel very smug. The walk home was
spent exchanging cyber-messages with various people who had been watching the
internet to follow my progress with this cache. On reflection it's a sign of
Fudge's progress in that I can recall taking him for a walk over the summer.
When my phone rang then I had to pass the lead to Steve to hold him whilst I
took the call. Now he's that good that I can text whilst walking him. And
whilst I was reflecting on what a good dog he was, he picked a fight with a
passing vagrant. We got home shortly
after 6pm. With er indoors TM"
off on a works overnight beano, me and Furry Face were left to our own
devices. Fudge promptly fell asleep, and I went foraging for my tea in the
general direction of the KFC. Expensive and calorie-ridden, but I thought I
deserved it after the exertions of today. |
|
19 April 2013
(Friday) - Rolf?
With my beloved off on a jolly, Furry Face
spent all night at the bottom of the bed. I wonder how he got there? Perhaps I forgot to secure the dog-proofing in the
kitchen last night? Astute readers might notice that I said "spent all
night" and not "slept" - he was rather restless and did fidget
a few times. Fudge woke me shortly after 5am by having a woofing fit. I
wonder what it was that upset him. I got up to see what the problem was, and
he seemed very keen to get into the back garden where he went straight to the
pond and watched over it in much the same way that a hawk would study small
mice. Since I turned the pond pump back on a week
or so ago he's been fascinated by the Koi. I let him watch them for as long
as it took me to shave, then (strangely for him) he came back in of his own
accord. I watched another episode of Babylon 5 over
a bowl of frootie-bix and then set off to work.
There was little of note on the radio as I drove. That most volatile of
bodily fluids didn't even simmer (for once). I got to work and did my bit. And whilst
listening to the radio on my way home I
heard something which did set my piss bubbling. Rolf Harris was a kiddie fiddler? Was he?
Wasn't he? Not Rolf Harris! Personally I can't help but wonder whether
he's been accused on the strength of actual evidence against him, or because
he is a public figure and has been a children's entertainer. It seems the
"in thing" at the moment to accuse anyone who's ever been on the
same planet as a child of having been a kiddie fiddler. I feel rather strongly about this - as an
ex cub scout leader I am sure that it is only a matter of time until some
opportunistic ex cub realises they can make a name for themselves in the
local press by bandying baseless allegations against me. |
|
20 April 2013
(Saturday) - Cake and Mild
A rather restless night was spent mostly
prodding er indoors TM"
to stop her snoring. I eventually gave up the battle and had a slightly
earlier brekkie than I might have done. And after
spending an entertaining five minutes duffing up
Furry Face I took him round the park for a walk. We met many of the usual dog
walkers. The Irish chap was there and we had quite a chat. "Orangehead" was there (looking more like
Ronald McDonald every day) with her chunky little friend. And their dogs.
And Fudge was off the lead and (mostly) behaving himself; coming back
(eventually) when called. We carried on with our walk and a little
later encountered "Orangehead" (without
her chunky little friend) as we were walking across the co-op field.
Fudge ran up to her dog, and "Orangehead"
promptly started giving Fudge dog treats. I wish people wouldn't do that; it
only makes him not want to come back to me. I then drove round to the garage to collect
er indoors TM" who
had left her car to get fixed. And once changed we set off to the Hare and
Hounds. Ashford was hosting the monthly gathering of geocachers.
Once a month we all meet up and chat about the latest developments in hiding tupperware. It was really good to meet up with friends
old and new. There was a new lady from Chartham who
was introduced to me (because I have some caches in Canterbury). We
got chatting - she was really new to the game, and she got a lot from
chatting to the old hands. We had a couple of pints and a cheese ploughmans, and then my phone beeped. Twelve new caches
had gone live in honour of the event, and so people set off in various
directions in various groups. I walked along with people I've not walked with
much before. But it's always good to walk with like-minded friends. We had a
really good day on what must have been the finest afternoon so far this year.
And Lisa had made cake too. We walked for a couple of hours, and then
came back to the pub where we chatted for a little before making our way
home. A quick cuppa, a quick game of tug o' war with
the dog, a change of shirt, and off out to a birthday party. Loads of us gathered to celebrate Steve's
birthday, and we tried my second attempt at making mild. It wasn't a bad
drop. From what I can remember... |
|
21 April 2013
(Sunday) - Scotney Castle
It was all rather vague last night. That
mild was good stuff. I slept like a log, and was eventually woken shortly
after 8am by a small dog licking my nose. He'd got bored with waiting for me
to get up and jumped the dog proofing. er indoors TM" eventually
emerged from her pit and after brekkie we went to
the garage to reclaim the er
indoors TM"-mobile. And the round to Singleton for
the rest of our crew and off we went. We'd heard that there was free
admission to Scotney Castle today. Something for
nothing is always good. We stopped off at half a dozen seemingly random points
along the way. Can't think why (!) We got to Scotney
Castle shortly after mid day with what seemed like
most of the rest of the human race. A combination of free admission and
glorious weather had got everyone out today. We found a secluded spot for a little
picnic, and then thought we'd stroll the grounds.
The woods were lovely. The grounds of Scotney
Castle are somewhere I've not been for years. But they are really good. And (if
you know where to look) there are four geocaches in those grounds. We
found them - and we found other people looking for those caches. It was good
to meet up with these people and put some faces to names. Having walked several miles we realised
we'd spent too long walking and that we'd left it too late to go round the
castle itself. Oh well - we'll do that next time there's a freebie
advertised. As always I took photos of the day and put
them on-line. We came home a rather circuitous way (can't
imagine why!) and once home Fudge had a bath. He wasn't quite as grubby
as I'd thought he was, but a scrub never hurts him. And with er indoors TM" off bowling
I watched my DVDs whilst a small dog snored. er indoors TM" returned,
and we watched yesterday's episode of "Doctor Who". I liked
the Jon Pertwee era references; it was one of the
better episodes that have come out recently. But I still fell asleep... |
|
22 April 2013
(Monday) - Rippers Cross
Once brekkied I
got the laundry on the washing line and then me and Furry Face begged a lift
from er indoors TM"
to her work from where we went on a little stroll. Up through Kennington to Sandyhurst Lane. Down and across the A20 as far as
Rippers Cross, then home via Great Chart and Viccy
Park. To those that don't know the area we were walking for nearly four hours
and covered about twelve miles. Whilst we were going I found two geocaches,
and Fudge scoffed sheep poo and horse poo. Both us us were doubly successful at our chosen hobbies. Once home we had a quick spot of lunch,
then I lowed the lawn. I'm not sure the strimmer has survived the experience. I'm hoping it's
salvageable. We then went round to Pets at Home - I'd had a text to say that
Fudge's flea treatment was ready. They told me they were doing a special
offer on microchipping dogs. I thought he's already
been chipped; his records said not. To prove a point they scanned him and
found a microchip. They gave me the reference number and a phone number which
I phoned with a view to updating the records. Apparently the number they
scanned out of him was missing a country code, and they suggested I got him
re-scanned. I'll get that done later in the week. I then spent an hour and a half solving a (relatively)
local puzzle cache. And having come
up with a solution it turned out that my answer wasn't a million miles from
what Lisa had worked out. So with neither of us having anything better to do we then spent another hour and a half finding that we were
both wrong. Laundry off of the line; undercrackers washed, dog fed... and with er indoors TM" off bowling
I watched a film I'd recorded onto the SkyPlus box.
"East is East"
was entertaining enough; even if I did struggle to hear it over a snoring
dog.... |
|
23 April 2013
(Tuesday) - Dull
Despite a late
night I was still awake at 4.30am. I think I had about four hours sleep last
night. I had a crafty bowl of frootie-bix for brekkie and watched an episode Babylon-5 with Fudge, and
then set off off to work. The news got me going, as
always. Many years ago I
can remember grumbling about why we learned history at school. After all,
it's all dead and buried. But, as I was told at the time, if we don't learn
from the mistakes of the past we will be doomed to repeat them in the future. I've blogged before
that I think Scottish independence is a bad idea; personally I think union is
a good thing. Take the European Union for example. If we are all one big
happy family then despite the odd squabble we won't waste years warring with
each other (again). But if one lesson has been learned from the enitire Euro-zone concept, it is that having a common
currency across twenty-odd countries means the most powerful ones give the
orders, and the smaller ones do as they are told. When they are told. And say
"Yes Sir!" whilst they are at it. So why does a potentially
independent Scotland not
want it's own currency, but would prefer to
keep the pound? I thought the pro-independence nutters
wanted to go their own way? And so to work. I
wasn't feeling particularly motivated today. I did my bit, but no more. And
so home again. For the third consecutive
Tuesday I missed the weekly gathering. Not finishing work until 8pm made a
timely arrival in Folkestone somewhat tricky. As I came home the
pundits on the radio were expounding on a crackpot theory that international
corporations perpetrate tax avoidance schemes to their benefit and to the
detriment of their host countries. Half an hour of pointing out the obvious
was rather tedious. And in closing,
today is St George's day. I don't think anyone noticed the fact. Dull, so dull... |
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24 April 2013 (Wednesday)
- This n That
Another early start. Fudge was fast asleep
when I came down. Late at night he takes himself off to his basket and we
cover him over and tuck him in (!). I found him exactly as we'd left him last
night. I gave him a stroke; he opened one eye, looked at me and closed it
again. He doesn't seem to be a "morning dog"; it takes him a
little while to get going in the morning. Mind you it takes most people a
little while to get going at 5am. This morning I had the last of the frootie-bix. I quite liked that stuff. It was a shame it
came from Sainsbury's; I'm not rich enough to shop there regularly. I wonder
if DLA has any other posh cereals she doesn't want
(he speculated hopefully). And so to work. It was a very foggy
morning. Interestingly the radio's weather forecaster this morning started
off with a summary of the current weather, and he said that the morning's
fogs were restricted to a few patches in Devon. That bloke was on the case(!) The morning's news was interesting.
Apparently Britain is becoming a much less violent place, with violent crime
and violence leading to hospital admission being on the decrease. That's good
news in what can often be depressing times. So in order to redress the
balance, one of NASA's rovers has
drawn a rude picture on the Martian surface. Meanwhile science is still at a loss to
explain where all
the anti-matter has gone, Perhaps whoever programmed the rover to draw
pictures of willies might have had a hand in the matter (to coin a phrase). Once at work I checked my emails. Regular
readers of this drivel may recall that I spent quite a bit of money recently
on a new car battery. Today it turns out that had I used the works discount
scheme I could have saved money on that battery. Oh well. Such is life. And
what is money for if not to squander foolishly. At tea break I had a disappointment. I have
several e-books on my phone. Last year I found an iffy web site from which I
downloaded hundreds of e-books. I was just getting to the good part in the
novel 2010 when the story stopped. What I thought was a copy of 2010 was
actually a copy of the first third of 2010; stopping mid
sentence a little way into the eighth chapter. I suppose there is a moral in there
somewhere. And so home. My beloved was off at arky-ologee club. I've not been there for over a year
what with the vagaries of my shift pattern. Do I miss it? I don't know. Some
of the talks are interesting; some rather dull. It would be nice to get along to a meeting
at some stage for old time's sake... |
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25 April 2013
(Thursday) - That n This
I was awoken by a little thud this morning.
I think a certain small dog had mis-judged his
attempt to jump on to the bed at 6.30am. Once he was eventually on the bed I
wound him up by looking at him and then pretending to go back to sleep. I
succeeded in aggravating him so much that his whining woke er indoors TM". I really
shouldn't encourage Furry Face to come upstairs. For want of anything better to do I checked
the phone's 1571 message thingy. I wish people wouldn't leave messages on it;
I rarely (if ever) check it. There was a message on it left by a
health visitor some three days ago. I can only assume she had a wrong number
as neither of us had any idea of what the message was about, despite her
detailed witterings about who she wanted to visit
and their apparent maladies and treatments. So much for medical confidentiality.
Perhaps I should have made an issue of it rather than just deleting the
message; after all some people have been sacked for lesser mistakes (!) And so to work. I'd left rather earlier
than I needed to; but being on a late shift meant that (if I was quick) I'd
have time to pop into the cheapo bargains shop. That was the plan... I found traffic was queued for two miles
out of Canterbury because of road works. Far from having time to go shopping,
I was ten minutes late for work. I shall have to eke out my supply of
armpit-squirt until I can get to Wilkos. I did my bit at work and came home. On the
corner of our street is a bench where various vagrants often congregate. This
evening once I'd parked, as I walked home I was greeted by one of these. He
was an ex-cub scout who was having a crafty tinny. I got chatting - I
distinctly remember this chap when he was a cub fifteen years ago. His family
had never had any luck back then, with a brother having died as a child, and
his mother dying whilst he was young. His luck hadn't changed. I had heard
he'd moved up north. He told me that he had; but it hadn't worked out. He was
visiting Ashford trying to arrange visiting rights to his child. Apparently
his ex- was being difficult about custody. He was enjoying a quick drink
before taking a train to London where he was staying with a relative for a
few days. He was vague about his plans after this sojourn would be over. Sometimes I get so wrapped up with my own
trivial problems that I forget that I am doing rather well compared with so
many others. Being on a 10pm finish meant that I
couldn't get to see Maria for her birthday bash, nor could I get to the astro club committee meeting this evening; which was a a pain. We've not had a committee meeting for a few
months, and it would have been good to have got along. Being the Treasurer I
have a couple of cheques that need signing, and it's easier to collar other
signatories at a committee meeting than anywhere else. It would also have
been good to have had a chat. I sometimes wonder about the club's future
direction. On the one hand it would be good to expand our remit; involve the
membership more, put on observing evenings, organise imaging workshops. On
the other hand we've tried expanding what the club does before, and had a
minimal take-up. The punters seem to be happy with what we are doing. I'm gripped by indecision. On the one hand
the club might be doing more. On the other hand I have absolutely no interest
in shivering whilst looking through a telescope at midnight. Something else which needs a little thought
is Canterbury beer festival, which is only three months away. It's been
suggested that we go along mob-handed on the Friday afternoon like we have
before. I've checked my shift pattern and I'm not working that day. But...
getting there (train & taxi) is a tenner. Beer is (at least)
twenty quid. A portion of goat curry and some flavoured olives is another
tenner. And then there is a tombola to win and
souvenirs to buy. So that's fifty quid to be packed like
sardines into a cowshed with the weirdie-beardies
who frequent beer festivals. I've been told that I brew a half-decent
pint. Maybe I could rally the troops and we could put on a festival of our
own. For far less that what someone would spend on
a day at Canterbury beer festival, anyone could buy the barrel, bucket and
ingredients for five gallons of ale. If I could get half a dozen takers we
could do a beer festival of our own. I shall put out some feelers; the
weekend of Canterbury beer festival would be a good time to stage such an
event. If we go for that weekend people will need to get brewing within the
month... |
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26 April 2013
(Friday) - It Rained
Having had three days of glorious weather
whilst I was working I had great plans for today. So you can imagine my
reaction when I woke to torrential rain. The rain showed no signs of abating,
so I settled down to laundry and dull homework. I also did the monthly
accounts which didn't depress me quite as much as I thought it might. By mid day the
rain had abated somewhat so I finally got to take Furry Face for his walk.
Whilst out I trued for a nearby geocache which had
gone live two days ago. The watchword of geocaching is "stealth",
so with Fudge noisily trying to pick a fight with every dog for miles around
I gave up. We came home through Frog's Island where I left Furry Face off of
his lead and he made a nuisance of himself with the nice people trying to
train their dog. As the rains started again we came home and
I spent most of the afternoon ironing shirts whilst watching Babylon 5 DVDs.
I left for astro club perhaps earlier than I might
have done; there were a couple of geocaches on the way that weren't going to
find themselves. Both were out of the ordinary; one being quite unique. I had a shock when I pulled up at the car
park in Woodchurch. Fudge was running across the
field. I looked again; it was my dog. He had a very distinctive shape, and it
looked just like him. Panic set in. It was only when I went across the field
to him that I noticed the white patch on the dog's chest. It wasn't Fudge,
but it could have been his brother. I got chatting with the dog's owner; he
too had never encountered another Patagonian Tripe-Hound. His dog also had
been a rescued one. And so to astro
club. With an excellent turn-out of over sixty people we had a really good
talk about the Voyager missions. I learned loads; and after I hawked the
raffle we had a stellarium show of the spring
stars. Ironically the clouds parted just as we were going home and I drove
home under a clear sky. We then watched "Big Bang Theory"
for an hour or so whilst scoffing prawn crackers. I wonder if the other
Patagonian Tripe-Hound likes prawn crackers quite as much as my one seems
to... |
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27 April 2013 (Saturday)
- ... Without A Paddle
I was wide awake at 7am, and with little
else to do so early on a Saturday I had a go at the astro
club's accounts. The credit crunch is obviously hitting - refreshments
takings are regularly twenty per cent down on what they were a year ago, and
the raffle is only raking in just over half of what it once was. We still
have just as many club members; it's just that no one seems to have any spare
cash. With er
indoors TM" out of her pit we collected Lisa and set off
to Worton's wood. On Monday afternoon I spent an
hour and a half working out the location of a puzzle geocache, and then in
the evening Lisa and I spent an hour and a half working out that it wasn't
there. I revisited my calculations and with the application of graph paper I
worked out a new solution to the puzzle and we thought we'd try again. The
new solution wasn't that different too the old one, but this time we found
the cache after only ten minutes searching. We'll gloss over the fact that it
was in a place that we'd thoroughly searched on Monday evening. From the we moved
on to Cheeseman's Green. Still geocaching; this
time hiding one. We'd spotted the ideal bridge under which we could hide a
cache. The rubber dingy was soon inflated and ignored the faint hissing sound
I could hear. The boat was very soon in the river. I chucked myself into the
boat, and once aboard wondered about steering and propulsion. I realise that
it is standard nautical practice to take oars, but the entire concept of oars
didn't occur to me until I was on the high seas. I managed navigation of a
sort by grabbing passing trees (there was a surprisingly fast current)
and managed to bring "ELF-1" to where Lisa was waiting to
board. She too was rather vague about steering boats, instead choosing (like
me) to trust to pot luck and idiot enthusiasm. However a combination of
pot luck and idiot enthusiasm soon found us aground right under the bridge
where we bought the drill into play and secured the geocache. It was at this point that we first started
to think about the vague possibility of getting out of the river. And as we
cast off so a submerged rock made its presence known by making a hole in the
boat. I would have laughed if the river water hadn't been so
cold as my bum got wetter and wetter. Rather amazingly we emerged from the river
with with only wet bums and wet feet, and we
managed to salvage the boat. We shall need that when it's time to do
maintenance. Home, where I showered the river scum off
of myself and the fox poo off of Fury Face, and we had a crafty spot of lunch
before going back out for an afternoon's stroll round to Singleton. We
explored places we've not been before; found some new footpaths, and
generally wore the dog out. We were gong to go on
for a bit more of a stroll round Coldblow, but time
was against us. We'll do that another time. After a rather good bit of scoff er indoors TM" set off to
film night and I prepped my phone for tomorrow's planned extravaganza before
settling down in front of the telly with my dog. It can be a tough life sometimes... |
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28 April 2013
(Sunday) - Haywards Heath
An early start; it had been suggested that
we went off to Haywards Heath for a walk. I was
game, but being a little way away meant for an early start. Three of us and
two small dogs were out of Ashford before 8.30am. I'd not been to Haywards Heath for some years - in fact the last time I
was there was 29 May 2006 with the kite club when (after an unexpected
gust) a huge Manta Ray kite broke its tether and flew off for nearly two
miles before it was recaptured. On the way this morning we drove through
the village of Newick - I must admit to a snigger
when I saw the posters for their am-drams. The abbreviation for Newick Amateur Dramatic Society (N.A.D.S.)
which was emblazoned everywhere really hadn't been thought through. We parked up shortly after 9.30am and set
off. Had we actually planned our route we would have found a lot more caches
than we did. Instead we rather made up our route as we went. But it was a
good day to be out inn some rather beautiful scenery. As we walked we saw
horned black rams, grey sheep, oxen, and even some deer. We had an iffy two
minutes when Fudge slipped his lead in a field full of sheep. But he was
really good. His natural reaction was to chase the sheep; which he did. My
natural reaction was to bellow at him; which I did. And the little dog
stopped dead and waited for me to come and get him. We found total of fifty four geocaches (and
couldn't find a further half-dozen) along a rather convoluted route off
some fifteen miles. We were out for some nine hours and through the wonders
of GPS technology we were rather amazed to find that we were only actually
walking for six of those nine hours. One third of our time was spent not
actually moving. Obviously we waste far too much time on secret geocacher rituals and fannying
around. We shall have to work on our efficiency for next time. And there will be a next time - there are
loads of places to walk in the Hayward Heath area; Today barely scratched the
surface of geocaching along the East/West Sussex border. As always there are photos
of our walk on-line. We got home just before 9pm and once I'd
hosed the mud off of Furry Face, er indoors
TM" went up to the KFC to get tea; it was too late to be
cooking. Chicken, chips and episodes of "Big Bang Theory".
It don't get better than that... |
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29 April 2013
(Monday) - Two Dogs
Six hours sleep !
That's not bad. I wonder if yesterday's walk had anything to do with it? Mind you I was surprisingly not aching as I scoffed my
bran flakes at silly o'clock this morning. Fudge however did seem to be
rather stiff. He's never particularly sprightly in the mornings; today he was
sparked out and snoring on my lap as I watched my Babylon 5 DVD. As I drove to work it was a dull overcast
morning; quite a contrast to the weekend. I don't mind the weather being bad
when I have to work. I felt it something of a shame when I looked out of the
window and saw that the day had brightened up. Selfish of me; but there it
is. The weather has been bright these last couple of days; I spent much of
the morning conscious of my face glowing from where I'd caught the sun
yesterday. As I drove to work (as always) I listened
to the radio. There would seem to be trouble
ahead for nursing homes. Apparently they are closing down faster than
ever before. One of the pundits being interviewed on the matter said the
reason for the closures was quite straight-forward: the average nursing home
isn't getting enough customers. I can't say I'm surprised. The last I heard
these places cost over five hundred pounds per week per resident. Who can
afford that amount of money? Does it really cost over five hundred pounds a
week to house someone? It don't cost that to house
me at home. I can remember many years ago a friend's
father being very verbal on the entire concept of nursing homes; being
convinced they were a way to make easy money. Eventually this chap scraped
together enough money to buy himself a larger house with a couple of spare
bedrooms, and he took on two elderly people. Within a few short years the
chap was running a nursing home the size of a small mansion. He was always
good to his ladies and his gentlemen, but made no secret that he was in it
for the money. There used to be lots of money to be made
from nursing homes. Is there still? Another example of the credit crunch in
action perhaps? Or is it something else? I have instructed both fruits of my
loin that I don't want anyone throwing good money down the toilet to keep me
in such a place should the time come. So to work where I had a relatively good
day. I try not to mention work much these days; some days are better than
others. Today was one of the better ones. And having done my bit I came home
again. I had a message from one of my loyal
readers. Regular readers of this drivel may recall some squabbling a few
months ago about the politics of Teston kite
festival. It may be that events overtake plans. There would seem to be
serious development works going on at Teston Bridge
picnic site with the lock being refurbished. For all that the work is due to
be finished next month I wonder if we will be able to set up camp there this year? Once home I found our house guest was
already in residence. The most recent fruit of my loin is on holiday in
foreign climes and the Rear Admiral is off potting black so Sid had come up
for a sleepover with Fudge. Sid's a sweet little dog really. Quite the little
softie. Rather tame in comparison with Fudge, but that's in no way a bad
thing. So far Sid has spent much of the evening being my second shadow whist
Fudge looks on from the sofa with something of a supercilious air. I wonder how Sid will cope overnight
without his mummy? He's already crapped on the
carpet once... |
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30 April 2013
(Tuesday) - Stuff
Last night I wondered how Sid would cope
overnight without his mummy. I was listening out to hear him crying for much
of the night. He didn't cry at all. Thinking things had gone better than I was
expecting I got up to a disappointment. As I came down the stairs at 5.15am
Fudge started woofing. I opened the living room door and felt Sid in the way
of the door on the other side. I also found the warm pool of tiddle and a couple of fresh dollops by that door. Fudge
was at the far end of the room, ears right back, clearly knowing that wrong
had been done. I chased both dogs into the garden where Fudge immediately
produced the biggest pile of dung and the most tiddle
you ever did see, all the time looking at me. Almost as if trying to prove
his innocence. Sid on the other hand seemed oblivious to his indiscretions.
He was bounding up at me, seemingly desperate for company. I then spent a little while clearing the
mess. It's amazing how long it takes to get pug tiddle
out of a carpet. Sid sat with me whilst I had my brekkie
and I watched my morning's DVD. Fudge sat on the sofa and glared his
disapproval in a manner not unlike that of the first fruit of my loin when we
brought his baby sister home for the first time. And so to work. As I drove I listened to
the radio. And I nearly had another urine-related incident as my piss boiled.
Apparently the government is planning to toughen the regime in prisons.
The radio presenter interviewed a reformed convict who told about how bad
things are already in prison, then the presenter
laughed at him. There is a public perception that things
are really easy in prison which was reinforced by this morning's article on
the radio. From my limited experience I know that this is far from the truth,
but the general public don't know that. Most people have very little (if any)
experience of prisons and the general perception of the places is nothing
like the reality. I wonder if making this announcement two days before an
election is the government's cheap way of grabbing a few more votes. At
the same time it would seem that many violent offenders are not going to
court; instead having their crimes dealt with by a far more informal system
of conflict resolution. I can't pretend to be an expert on this case, but I
can't help but wonder if its popularity with the police is connected with its
involving far less paperwork. Here's
something to make you think. As power companies struggle to keep up with
demand, the household appliances of the future will be fitted with sensors
which will allow them to recognise times of peak demand for electricity.
Having recognised such a demand on the electrical infrastructure, your oven
or fridge will (in a spirit of being helpful) turn itself off. Presumably
just at the very instant you want to be using said device. Utter genius(!) Once at work I did my thing. Over a tea
break my attention was caught by the day-time TV dross. Have you ever seen
"Don't Get Done, Get Dom"? It features a bald do-gooder who
tries to right wrongs suffered by the gullible public. Today baldy was
dealing with a rather laughable tale of an incredibly fat woman who had
bought a cheap sofa. Being incredibly fat her cheap sofa wasn't up to the job
of supporting her gargantuan frame, and so she soon reduced the poor sofa to
matchwood. Fat woman wasn't happy and took the fragments of the sofa back to
the shop to ask for a refund. The main in the shop wasn't happy either, and
he sent the fragments of the sofa back to the factory for a post-mortem. The lab tests were soon back; it it was a proven scientific fact that a cheap sofa was no
match for a fat ass. Consequently no refund was forthcoming; the shop took
the line that Fat Woman should know that someone of her size needed a sofa
which was more robust than the run of the mill sofa. Fat Woman then contacted the telly's
consumer rights people because she found it offensive to be told that she was
too fat and that it was upsetting to think that her epic bulk might have
broken the sofa. Baldy did his best for fat woman, but whichever way you look
at it, if you are epic in the ass department you
really shouldn't scrimp on anything you hope to support your massive weight. It was as well that I was watching the
program on a wide-screen telly... With work done I set off for the Tuesday
gathering. What with late shifts I'd not been for three weeks. I've missed
going along. Today we were at Somerset Road where Matt clearly hadn't
scrimped on his sofa. Watching telly with mates. A simple evening, but really
good... |
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