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1 July 2012
(Sunday) - Working...
I had the opportunity for a bit of a lie-in
this morning. Last night was one second longer than it might have been since
science had added
an extra second to it. Apparently there is a need to synchronise time
with the Earth's roatation; it's not going quite as
fast as once it was. I know the feeling. I had my official weekly weigh-in (a day
late) this morning. I've lost a pound. My weight loss is odd. For all
that this is the first actual loss of any weight for a month, I feel thinner
just lately. I noticed yesterday when rubbing my back that the roll of
blubber on my lower back isn't there any more. My ribs are individually
distinguishable now. My hands and knees feel bony. I wonder if having lost
quite a bit of weight, my body is having a bit of a re-distribution of what
it's got left? To work. As I drove along the A28 I
listened to the Sunday service on the radio. In the past I was very religious
- I suppose that was a result of my involvement with he
Boys Brigade. I got confirmed, and was even a Steward in the Methodist
church. When we left Hastings I saw the darkness and fell by the wayside. I
even enrolled as an ordained minister in the Church of the Apathetic
Agnostic. And now... I suppose still apathetically agnostic. But there is doubt there - doubt which
seems to be growing. Much of human history has been driven by the Christian
Church. It seems very arrogant of me to blithely announce that all those
people were wrong. But when I do get the notion that maybe the God-botherers have a point and listen to what they have to
say; they seem to do an awful lot of sucking up to their God. Take this
morning's Church service for example. "Oh Dear Lord - you are so
wonderfully marvellously super. We are so not worthy of your amazingly
brilliant trifficness." If there is a
supreme being I can't imagine what it would want from me, but surely it won't
want to be told how wonderful it is all the time? Once at work I got on with what I had to
get on with. It was odd really - having been resenting having to work this
weekend, once at the place I didn't really mind being there. Particularly
today when I spent much of the day listening to the torrential rain and realising
that any plans I might have mode for today would have been washed out. I must
admit I quite like working weekends and Bank Holidays: I get more of a sense
of job satisfaction then. It's just a shame that there's
usually things going on at weekends and Bank Holidays that I would
otherwise miss... |
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2 July 2012
(Monday) - This n That
I had an interesting phone call - Lewisham
police station phoned, asked for me by name, and proceeded to ask about my
step-son. When I told them I didn't have one they seemed to accept the news,
and apologised for disturbing me. I can't help but wonder what that was all
about. After a quick spot of brekkie
I went over the astro club’s accounts. It’s always
worth doing soon after a club meeting; if only to see how much money we raked
in. We raked in quite a bit last Friday, and having made sure it all agreed (to
the penny) I trotted up to the bank to put lots of quids
into the club's account. I then had a bit of a mooch
around the town to see what was new, and on realising that little had changed
I came home. “My Boy TM ”
came home and gave me a hand getting the compost bin to the tip: it can be a
bit wobbly in the car if I go on my own. There was a dodgy five minutes when
I forgot I still had the roof box on the car and it hit the height barrier at
the tip; but no damage seems to have been done, for which I am grateful. The
box is huge – how could I have forgotten it was there? We then took some bits and bobs from the
garden round to the Fudgery, and having retrieved
my hammer (which “My Boy TM ” had borrowed) I came home and
wasted the rest of the afternoon on silly PC games. I had intended to go
fishing, but a combination of intermittent rain and no-one to keep me company
had put paid to that idea. Which was a shame. I spent a little while messing with my new
phone this evening. I've merged the duplicate entries in my contacts list.
I've deleted several contacts I don't want any more. I’ve downloaded an app
which tells me how much of my internet usage and calls I’ve still got left.
It's told me about picture messages I haven't sent. I’ve downloaded “Angry
Birds”. I wonder what other apps might be worth having. I also played with the voice recognition
software. Rather than typing texts, I can now just say what I want as a
message, and to whom the message should be sent, and the phone (mostly)
does the typing for me. I wonder if I could save time by doing future blog
entries that way. Talking of phones, "Daddies Little Angel TM"
has dropped hers down the toilet, and an entertaining five minutes was spent
packing the thing in rice to dry it out... |
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3 July 2012
(Tuesday) - Pirated ebooks
I have a new fleece. It's an astro club one, and it is the first item of clothing I've
had in about twenty years which doesn't have an "X" in the size.
I'm feeling quite smug about that little fact. As an avid blagger
of ebooks I read something
which made me think. Whilst I am adamant that I'd like to think that I
don't for one moment condone the open copyright theft which has clearly taken
place with some ebooks, I can't help but wonder if
actually I do. There's no denying that I have scoured the web looking for
free ebooks. And there's no denying that I've
downloaded one or two of them as well. Many of the free ones I've got are
from book sharing sites on which the authors freely acknowledge that their
books are free, or from Project Gutenberg where the
books are also free. Or the freebies from Amazon. As for the "dodgier"
websites - I've either downloaded books I already have paid out for the paper
version; working on the principle that I'm getting a known quantity. Or I've
downloaded books which are over twenty years old, and could arguably be
described as fair game. Am I wrong in doing this? How long does
copyright last? How long should copyright last? I suspect that if my writing efforts take off I may well find myself changing my attitude on
the matter. To work where I did my bit. I mentioned
that my phone texts on voice command, One of the girls said that she has
conversations with her phone. She demonstrated by asking her phone if it was
gay, and the phone protested about being asked an inappropriate question. I came home via Sainsbury's where I spent a
voucher I'd got. I could either use it wisely, or I could get a bottle of
port to fuel a drunken session this coming weekend. I came out with two
bottles of port. Perhaps a cheaper brand than I might have bought, but in
this new era of austerity, that's how it is these days. And being Tuesday I was rather miffed. I
missed the usual Tuesday gathering. Finishing in Canterbury after 8pm meant I
wouldn't have got to Folkestone until nearly 9pm, and som
wouldn't have climbed into my pit before midnight. Which
wouldn't be a good idea as I need to be setting off before 7am tomorrow
morning. Mind you, I never sleep anyway, so maybe I should have
Folkestone-ed after all... |
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4 July 2012
(Wednesday) - Stuff
There was an
interesting article on the radio this morning about a conference taking place
amongst various leaders in the Christian community on the subject of gay
marriage. Whilst personally I'm of the opinion that absolutely anyone can
marry absolutely anything (if all parties are happy with the arrangement), I
really have a problem with the Christian church's attitude on the matter. It
says quite clearly in their bible that gay marriage is wrong. If they go
against their teachings (for whatever reason) then surely the entire
fabric of their religion collapses? I had a couple of
phone calls from employment agencies today. What was I looking for? Could
they help me find a job? Here's hoping. And then I spent a little while
playing with Google Maps preparing for the weekend's expedition. For all that
I know the way to Brighton very well, I had a little go at trying to find
some short cuts along the way. It turns out that I've been taking pretty much
the shortest route for years, but there were a few miles that I could shave
off by bypassing Tenterden. This weekend I shall
save a few pennies when I go on my journey. And so home, where
we had a bottle of plonk with tea and I promptly fell asleep. I hate that... |
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5 July 2012
(Thursday) - Ouch!
Having got home late last night I found
myself parking about three counties away from the house because I couldn't
park any closer. So this morning I was up with the lark to retrieve my car.
There are many things I would like in life - today I'd like my own drive or
dedicated parking space. With the car outside the house, and with
"Daddies Little Angel TM" on hand to help, I
started loading up all the gear we'll need for the weekend's camping trip.
And with the car half packed we found some things which should have gone in
first, so we stripped the car out and re-packed. We did this three times
until it all went in properly. Oh how we laughed. Whilst hot and sweaty I then mowed the
lawn. It didn't look like it needed mowing, but that's the trick with a lawn.
Doing it regularly means it never gets to look like a jungle. Talking of
jungles I then made a start on pruning back the overgrowth from next door. I
soon lost interest in that game though. There was an interesting five minutes
whilst putting all the tools away. The rake fell down and took a lump out of
my neck. It hurt a bit, and now I look like the victim of a failed
decapitation. I spent some time job hunting, which seems
to be my preferred waste of time at the moment. At the moment I'm hoping it's
taken an up-turn. There were two posts for which I've got through the initial
screening. I was invited to take a numeracy and literacy test for one
application, and I had a web-cam interview for another. Fingers crossed. With a little bit of help (i,e, Paul did all the
work) we fixed the boot on the "er
indoors TM"-mobile. It now opens. A traditional thing for
a boot lid to do, but invaluable when one is planning to load the car up with
camping gear. Yesterday's blog entry (which in
retrospect was rather dull) surprisingly attracted a record number of
comments. Most were suck-ups trying to get me to advertise their various
products, but one came as a pleasant surprise. I am rarely asked for
requests, but when faced with the question "Where's the badger take
on the Higgs boson / god particle?" I felt my loyal readership
deserved an answer. If I don't give the public what they want they will only
wander off looking for filth on the Internet. So... Science has (probably)
found the
Higgs boson. It would seem to have been an elusive thing, and was
probably hiding. I wonder if science might find my missing air-beds whilst
science is at it. Science has spent over two billion quid trying to find it.
And their finding it has cost Stephen
Hawking a hundred dollars in a bet. The good professor thought Science
wasn't up to the job. But now the long-awaited God-particle has
been found, I can't help but wonder what science intends to do with it. For myself I must admit I'm rather sad that
the Higgs boson has been found. I say "found" - the experts
are still hedging their bets and calling it a "Higgs-like particle".
I hope that the celebrations ar premature and that
this isn't the predicted Higgs boson at all, but actually is just a "Higgs-like
particle". A "Higgs-like particle" gives some
wriggle-room in the current leading scientific theories. But if they really
have confirmed their theories, then today is a sad day for humanity: the
serious possibility of inter-stellar travel becomes far less likely. Meanwhile, a Higgs boson walked into a
church. "We don't allow Higgs bosons in here!" shouted the
priest. "But without me, how can you have mass?" asked the
particle. And on that note I'm off on holiday, "My
Boy TM" and Fudge take command of the house, but I doubt
they'll do much with the blog. See you all next week... |
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6 July 2012
(Friday) - To Brighton
Once breakfasted the Folkestonians
arrived, and we set off to Brighton. There was a minor episode on route. I
was supposed to be leading the convoy, and so I periodically kept checking
that the black car was following me. Having been following me for twenty
miles the black car suddenly overtook and shot off. And the Folkestonians weren't in that car. It was the wrong car.
They'd stopped for a tiddle twenty miles behind and
lost me. I waited for a few minutes, but they never caught up. So I applied
logic and thought that even if they were lost they would be more likely to
find me at Stanmer park than in some obscure
country lane. Funnily enough we arrived at Stanmer
park at the same time. We decided to camp about half way up the
slope; being up it gave us a good view of what was going on, and it was (relatively)
flat there. We got "Brown and Smelly" (the communal mess
tent) together easily enough, but as we started putting out tents up, so
the heavens opened. We got absolutely soaked. As we grumbled about the weather so more of
our number arrived, and once lunch was cooked we felt drier and happier. I
put the banners up, and drank half a bottle of Dissorano
for no adequately explained reason. More of our party arrived, as did the
in-laws and lots of other festival-goers. In a spirit of joining in I even
went so far as to open my kite bag and fly a kite. Fajitas are always popular for tea, and
they were washed down with home brew. I was quite pleased with how my home
brew had turned out. So pleased that I had a second glass of the stuff to
celebrate. I'm told there was port and cheese. I blame starting too early on
half a bottle of Dissorano. I staggered to bed shortly after 1am... |
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7 July 2012
(Saturday) - Brighton Kite Festival
Bearing in mind the
state in which I staggered off to my pit last night I woke feeling amazingly
raring to go. But over a morning cuppa we had some bad news. The last of our
contingent to arrive had been delayed. Seriously delayed. Actually in
hospital delayed. It transpired that a coffee-related injury had done for
Terry. We spent much of the day anxiously awaiting updates. Pausing only
briefly to secretly feed black pudding to my grand-dog I got two kites into
the sky. It sounds easy. It probably took me the best part of an hour to do.
I then made my way to my post at the children's workshop where quite a few of
us spent a couple of hours helping children make little kites which they
would promptly get stuck in trees. Once 3pm arrived we
shut up the workshop, and I slowly made my way back to base. Slowly, calling
in on many campers and caravaners on the way. There
are so many people that I know through kiting, and I see them maybe twice a
year at most. It was good to catch up with people. I hadn't learned
from my mistake, and had a another pint of Dissorano. It never seems that strong at the time. There
was also Pimms going on, and I found that a slice
of orange went very well with my home brew. An evening meal of
sweet n sour pork was well appreciated, but the rain (which had been on
and off all day) was steadily getting worse. So much so that it
completely stuffed my ability to get our camp fire
going. So in time honoured fashion we retreated into out communal tent and
drank ourselves silly. I'm told there was rice pudding.... |
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8 July 2012
(Sunday) - Brighton Kite Festival (Still)
There must have been rice pudding last
night - the stuff was strewn everywhere this morning. Brekkie
was good, and just as we were finishing so the last of our contingent
arrived. A day later than planned, and still rather sore, but it was good to
see Terry and Irene. As the morning wore on we heard horror
stories of people whose camps had been washed out in last night's rainstorm,
There was also consternation that the liquorice stall's gazebo had collapsed
under the weight of rain water that had collected in the thing. We had been fine, but it was a shame that
others had given up and gone home. The liquorice people hadn't - so we lent them a spare gazebo. Having flown kites yesterday morning, I
attempted to do so again. Attempted and failed. All I did was to tangle
everyone else up. So having flown the kites for five minutes to get them dry
I tidied them away and made my way to the children's workshop for a second
day. Today was fun in the children's workshop.
There was one particular customer - a rather serious harridan with a face
like a bulldog licking tiddle off of a stinging
nettle. She came along the line where children normally would. Her children
peered nervously round her ample fundament. When I attempted to chat with her
kiddies she moved between me and them, and told me quite forcefully that her
children don't speak to strangers. I suppose she had their best interests at
heart, but the kiddies certainly missed out by not being allowed to make
their own kites. Unfortunately we ran out of lines so we had
to close the children's workshop early. Back to base, where Terry was flying
a beach-towel kite. We had fun flying this kite for an hour or so, then it
was time for "er indoors TM"
to go and fly her kites in the arena. Or that had been the plan. Unbeknown to
us the schedule had been re-arranged. Oh well.... next year maybe. We had a very good early tea. Madras and dahl and egg curry. Very nice. I started on the washing
up, but was chased away from it, so I thought I'd take down the banners. I'd
spent quite a bit of time during the afternoon watching them get almost dry
enough to put away, only to get soaked by a passing shower. I wanted to get
the banners away dry, but it wasn't happening this evening. Just as they were
almost dry so the rain would start again. As we waved goodbye to Terry and
Irene I gave up with the banners and started on the beer. Banners will keep
until tomorrow.... |
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9 July 2012
(Monday) - Home Again
I emerged from the
tent shortly after 7am to find the banners had dried overnight, so I spent an
hour putting them away. It's a job I'd rather do on Sunday evening at kite
festivals because it takes so long to do. As I did the job I found myself
looking down the hill. On the second time we came to Brighton Kite Festival (ten
years ago) we asked if we might stay over on the Sunday night. No one
else did then. But we seem to have started something. II think it's probably
fair to say that half the people who had stayed at the festival had stayed on
over the Sunday night. Brekkie was good -
omelettes. Very tasty. And we then cracked on with breaking camp. Fortunately
the rain held off, but it had rained so much over the weekend that the
underside of my tent was soaked. I packed it wet and decided to worry about
it later. We spent five
minutes moving a portable generator before saying our goodbyes and making our
way home where it didn't take too long to pack the camping gear away. I got
the tent's groundsheet dried and our sleeping bags aired. I got the tent
itself mostly dried, but there were a few spots of rain blowing in the wind
so I shoved the tent into the shed. I'll sort that tomorrow. The electrician
called and fixed our broken light. It would seem the dimmer switch had broken
again. That's two of those that have gone in a year. That seems a rather high
attrition rate to me. And as I was mucking about on the Internet my phone
rang. Regular readers of this drivel might recall I took a literacy and
numeracy test as part of a possible teaching job. It would seem I got full
marks for those tests, and a nice lady chatted to me about possibly going
forward with becoming a teacher. Do I want to? I don't know. I shall give it
some serious thought... |
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10 June 2012
(Tuesday) - Still Raining
Through the vagaries of my working rota,
having had a long weekend's break I found myself with another day off work
today. Which was probably for the best as we were expecting
a parcel to be delivered. So I dragged the tent (still wet from the
weekend's camp) onto the lawn, pegged out the washing, and after a swift bit
of brekkie I did something I've been meaning to do
for years. Three years, to be precise. I updated the kite club's website. The kite club as an entity might be all but
defunct, but as a group we still do kite festivals and do fly from time to
time. Whilst I was at it I updated the Bat-Camp website too.
It's a nice little archive for anyone who might have a passing interest in
Bat-Camping. One thing which surprised me was the amount
of rain we have at camp. From my diaries I saw that I made mention of heavy
rain at nine of the last ten kite festivals I've done and at four out of the
last five Bat-Camps. When I put it starkly like that it sounds awful. I
suppose it's a testament to the fun that we have that I don't really remember
the rain. And talking of rain I went to the garden to
see if the tent was dry. It had rained in the meantime, and the tent was wetter
than when I'd started. Oh, how I laughed. So I went back to the PC and
applied for a few jobs. I got the next load of beer into the barrel ready for
the next camping trip in a month's time. And by the time I had a rather late
lunch the tent was (relatively) dry. Which came as a
relief. It's now in the shed, ready to get soaked again in a few
weeks' time. The doorbell rang. Our parcel had finally
arrived. My plans for the day had involved doing another catalogue drop to
the masses, but that was on hold until the parcel had arrived. It was gone
4pm by the time the parcels got here, and looking out of the window I could
see that the skies were looking decidedly dark, so against my better
judgement I played "Bubble Witch Saga" for half an hour or
so before going round to Somerset Road where the tribes had gathered... |
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11 July 2012
(Wednesday) - Planning...
Somebody up our road had a lift this
morning, and they kept their lift waiting; a car pulled up outside the house
playing frankly awful music at 5am, and stayed there for five minutes until I
heard the car door open, an apology for tardiness made, and the car drove
off. Who needs an alarm clock? Over a bit of brekkie
I watched "The Brittas Empire" on
UK Gold. I've not seen that for a while - for all that it is the sort of
program that having seen one episode you've seen the lot, I still like it. To work, where I spent much of the day
staring out of the window at the lovely day outside, and sulking about the
six wet days I've just had as a summer holiday. There's no denying I gloated
when there was a torrential downpour in the mid-afternoon. And so home to the emails. I've volunteered
to be the key-holder for the up-coming kite festival at Teston.
There's some consternation about the event. Apparently there are no longer
wardens employed at Teston Bridge Country Park, and
I will need to arrange to meet up with a warden to collect the key. There is
talk of me doing this at 5.30pm on the Thursday of the event; which is when
the gates will be opened for us. This is about eight hours after when I'd
rather be getting started. I'll see if I can't do some persuading. Something else about the planning for the
event which has me worried is the perceived need for a written list of
everyone who will be staying at the event (and their ages). I'm
reliably informed that this would be needed for health and safety reasons.
One can't help but wonder what these reasons might be. Mind you, I've seen an idea which appeals.
A few years ago I went to Dieppe Kite Festival. It was a good weekend, and
wasn't too pricey. But it can be done on the cheap. We drive down to Newhaven
on the evening of Friday 14 September and take the 11pm ferry (as foot
passengers) and have a sleep on the five hour crossing. We have brekkie on arrival, and mooch round the festival for the
day. Lunch is bread and cheese from the market. Dinner in a local cafe - they
are quite cheap. And back to Blighty on a late
ferry, sleeping on the way back. I might just be up for this one (funds
allowing) |
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12 July 2012
(Thursday) - Care Records
A rather restless night - I was awoken at
least once every half hour by a tinny electronic bleeping sound. I blamed
"er indoors TM"
phone (as it has a track record of having done that before) but
apparently the device was innocent. Or so counsel for the defence claimed. It turned out that the bleeping was the
battery going flat on another phone. A shame the battery couldn't have gone
flatter quicker. I spent much of today feeling quite exhausted. There was something interesting on the
radio as I drove to work today. It would seem that Ministry of Defence
officials had briefed Tony Blair (When he was Prime Minister) about
the UFO sightings in the UK.
Apparently there were sightings at Chelsea FC's football pitch and there were
aliens in hotels in South Wales and in Lincolnshire. UFOs were reported by
RAF Air Commodores and by the Royal Naval ships sent off to kick the Argies out of the Falklands. I wonder if Tony Blair took these reports
seriously - it was quite clear that the chap on the radio this morning
didn't. Talking of not taking things seriously, I
phoned my G.P. today to make an appointment (my
guts aren't what they might be). I was told that they don't book
appointments any more. I just have to phone up at 8am tomorrow and hope that
I can get seen that morning. If I can't, then I might like to try my luck the
day after, or the day after that. And just keep trying until I eventually get
seen. Or die of whatever's making me crap blood. And talking of my G.P.
surgery, I received a letter from them the other day. I was given the chance
to opt out of the National Care Record scheme. There are moves afoot to make
my medical records available to any hospital in the country which might need
them. This would have been particularly useful over the last few kite
festivals when I've taken broken offspring to nearby hospitals who (because
we live out of their area) had never heard of her. Under the proposed
scheme the hospital would have had instant access to all relevant medical
information. However due to Health-and-Safety-Human-Rights-Lefty-Crackpotism we have the choice to opt out of this scheme.
At first sight opting out would seem to be patently stupid. It makes such
sense to be part of such a scheme. And writing to fifty-odd million people to
give them the chance to opt out would have cost a fortune. But it turns out that there is a lot more
to this scheme than meets
the eye. Who exactly can call up your data? And exactly what data can
they call up? It would seem that there are all sorts of problems with the
security of the data; so much so that private companies might even be able to
legitimately use this database to access your ex-directory phone numbers. I hate researching stuff like this. What
started off as a clear-cut rant against anyone who would be so stupid as to
opt out of what is so obviously a good idea has got me seriously considering
opting out of a good idea so that I don't have to answer my telephone twenty
times a day to people trying to sell me stuff I don't want. |
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13 July 2012
(Friday) - Bit Dull Really...
I think I am fated not to get a good
night's sleep. Following on from noisy parked cars and phones going flat,
this morning the bin men were going for it at full blare. I gave up trying to
sleep, and once the washing was on the line I went up to town. As I arrived I
suspected the worst - there was a particularly vociferous harridan shrieking
about "it's a circus". But I never saw any clowns or animals or
anything remotely circoid. I popped into Wilkos
to get the makings of my next load of cheap beer. It looked to me like they
hadn't re-stocked for a while. I do hope they aren't getting out of the
home-brew market. They are twelve quid cheaper than the home-brew shop. As I came home I saw the mobile phone shop
was doing my new phone for a fiver cheaper per month than what I was paying.
I wasn't keen on that idea, so I went in to whinge. It turned out that they
were doing the cheaper deal on a much cheaper package; so I wasn't too
miffed. Home; where I put the word out about
Sunday's psychic fair (where I will be flogging paintings), and I
applied for a few jobs. An agency phoned me about another possible opening.
Here's hoping. And then I put a pan of water on to get my home brew going and
I played "Bubble Witch Saga" for ten minutes. I went to check on my
beer only to find I'd turned on the wrong hotplate. So I put things right,
wandered off for another ten minutes and came back to find that I'd again
turned on a different wrong hotplate. Oh how I laughed. Eventually I got the beer sorted. I've
thrown an orange in with it: I liked the orange in the beer I had last
weekend. I'm hoping that this will turn out well. Time will tell. It usually
does. I then spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between silly
computer games and dozing. A waste of a day, really... |
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14 July 2012
(Saturday) - Dover in the Rain
A reasonably decent night's sleep for a
change. I got up fairly early and did the morning's weigh-in. No weight loss,
but no weight gain either. I mucked about for a bit with silly Facebook
games, then spent a bit of time fiddling with my
phone. I've downloaded Google Sky to use as a star atlas, but will need to
use it in the dark (when it's not cloudy) to be sure it works. I noticed that somehow or other my phone
knew about the planned outing to Dover today. I wonder who told it? Perhaps it reads the "Dates for the Diary"
section of this blog. Steve's arrival prompted me to get dressed,
and after a quick visit to the cashpoint machine we set off to the clifftop café in Capel for a
bite of brekkie. It might cost, but you can't beat
the Full English, and Capel has such wonderful
views too. Just as we finished, the Brightonians arrived, and over a cuppa we were treated to
a magic show. Rhiannon might only be small, but she's got quite a talent for
magic tricks, and a few of them had me stumped as to how she was doing the
tricks. With brekkie
scoffed and cuppas drunk we made our way to the Western Heights car park to
meet up with the rest of the crew, and a dozen of us mooched round the gun
emplacements as the rain started to fall. I had a look at the entrance to the
deep shelter. Someone had replaced the gate with one that I couldn't climb
over. I wasn't happy about that. We made our way to the Grand Shaft. Built
over a hundred years ago, the Grand Shaft is a triple spiral staircase going
from the top of the cliffs at Dover down to the sea front. Going down is easy
enough - going back up is a killer. As we eventually struggled our way to the
top so the rain really got heavy, so we went into the Drop Redoubt. Anyone
who's ever been to Dover will have seen the majestic castle overlooking the
town from one of the hills. Maybe one person in a hundred who's been to Dover
will have heard of the Drop Redoubt on the opposite hill. Because it's not
given the same priority as Dover Castle by it's owners (English Heritage) the Drop
Redoubt is the poor cousin. But, to my mind, the Drop Redoubt is every bit as
good as Dover Castle. Today the Western Heights Preservation Society had an
open day, and the Drop Redoubt was opened up. Which was good - it gave us
somewhere to get out of the rain. Last year when we went to this place's open
day we had a great time. There were things to do and see,
there were re-enactments going on. This time there was torrential rain, and
everyone was huddled inside hiding from the rain. We made the most of the
day, and saw and did what we could. The pic-nic was
interesting; normally we'd lunch in the sunshine. Today we lunched in a
draughty corridor of a two hundred year old fortress. It was such a shame:
most of the events and activities were cancelled. We were all soaked through.
But it was a wonderful day with wonderful company. I wouldn't have missed it
for the world. And then back to the car. In the meantime the
rain had gone from medium monsoon to completely torrential, and we all got
soaked during the two minute walk back to the car park. We said our goodbyes
and went our various ways. As we drove home Tony Blackburn was on the radio
re-running the top twenty from 1978. There were some good memories there -
John Travolta, The Boomtown Rats and the Smurfs to name but most of them.
Once back in Ashford the Brightonians (having
bought dry socks) came home with us for a cuppa, which was good. The
sixty miles which usually separate us can be a nuisance. Saturday night - film night. Tonight we
watched "Underworld Awakening" which frankly made no sense
whatsoever. I'm told that if you've seen the three films which come before
it, then it becomes somewhat more understandable. The second film of the
evening was "Journey to the Centre of the Earth II" which
went nowhere near the centre of the Earth. Instead it went to Atlantis (which
was on dry land) and had more than just the occasional plot hole. But it
was still quite watchable. I've not been to a Saturday film night for
some time - I've quite missed them. |
|
15 July 2012
(Sunday) - The Psychic Fair
I laid in perhaps longer than I should have today. By the
time I'd got up, brekkied and mucked about playing
"Candy Cane Saga" it was time to set off. Regular readers of
this drivel might recall that a month ago I ran a stall at the psychic fair
where I was selling paintings. Last time (after I'd paid the stall fee)
I was five pounds down on the day. Today started
equally dismally. After two and a half hours I eventually sold a painting for
a fiver. After three hours I'd just about broken even. After three and a half
hours I'd had enough and was desperately hoping that someone else would start
packing up. For all that I wanted to go home, I
didn't want to be the first one to knock it on the head. I sat there for
another half an hour sulking, and with only five minutes before the fair
closed, a family came up to my stall, loved what they saw, and bought three
paintings. Having made some
sales I suppose I'll go to the next psychic fair now. Mind you, it was quite
peaceful sitting with my stall, alternately watching the world going by and
reading my book on my Kindle app. There is something quite serene about the
psychic fairs. But from a purely
mercenary perspective, if I'm going to make a go of selling paintings I think
I need to find a better outlet. There's money to be made at the psychic fairs
*if* you are doing tarot readings, poncing
about with crystal balls, or having people pay you to rub their feet. It's
been suggested that I try my luck selling paintings at a boot fair. I'm not
keen on that idea - I would have to be at the boot fair by 6am. And the open
day at Shadoxhurxt the other day drew a blank. Maybe I might find
when craft fairs are on. Do any of my loyal readers know when there's a craft
fair going on? I came home,
totally failed to see that "er
indoors TM" had a poncey candle
on the go and I spilled molten wax everywhere. And then I got the news that
the washing machine has gone west. Let's home the repair contract I have on
the thing will stump up... |
|
16 July 2012
(Monday) - Dull...
I found myself waking feeling very
refreshed after what seemed like a good night's sleep. But I suspected the
worst when I realised it was still dark outside. I looked at the clock:
1.20am. I'd slept for about two hours. And that was pretty much it for the
night. I dozed fitfully, but never got more than another ten minutes
continuous sleep. After what seemed like an eternity I got
up, did my morning round, and put on a fleece to go to work. There is
something fundamentally wrong about wearing a fleece in July. There is also
something fundamentally wrong about having spent every day in July looking at
the rain. The weather is definitely broken. I wonder if it can be fixed?
Here's a sign of the
times: an increasing number of families are staying at home and not going
to any touristy-type attractions any more. The reason? Cost. It's not cheap
to go out these days. I can remember taking the god-children to the zoo a few
years ago. I'd (naively) budgeted spending forty quid for the day
which would be a trip to the zoo, ice creams and McDonalds afterwards. It
cost forty five quid just to get into the zoo. And people wonder why my family holiday is
a long weekend in a tent in a field. After such a good weekend today was rather
dull. Mind you I did smile when I saw the two time travelling phone boxes that
I've used for today's piccie.... |
|
17 July 2012
(Tuesday) - Money, Scouts....
I awoke this
morning with something of a panic - the realisation that I'd not paid last
month's credit card bill. I'm usually so good about that. In thirty years of
having had a credit card I've paid it off (in full) every month. This
time I was five days late in making the payment. I wonder how much that will
cost me in interest? Probably more than
the worth of the money-off voucher I got from Morrisons
when I re-fueled the car last night. For all that Morrisons has the cheapest petrol, I can't say I'm
impressed with their loyalty points scheme. I've been gathering points from
them for almost a year, and a year's worth of petrol has equated to a voucher
worth five pounds. I get more profit in five minutes from doing on-line
surveys. I did two of those
today; about beer and mobile phones. Mind you, those surveys can be a con
sometimes; it annoys me to be over half way through the survey only to be
told that I don't fit the profile they are looking for and to be rejected.
Still, I've noticed that my shoes are wearing out - the money I get from the
surveys will pay for a new pair (hopefully). Talking of money,
as I drove to work there was an interesting program on the radio about
economics and the country's current financial plight. Apparently the current
British economy is comparable to what it was in the early 1930s. The woman
presenting the show had several guest experts in economics; all of whom were
under orders that what they said had to be comprehensible to the average
intelligent layman. I've always considered myself to be reasonably bright,
but I couldn't make sense of what they were saying. I don't understand how
having inflation running higher than the average increase in wages can reduce
the national debt, but (apparently) it could do. The program
mentioned about how tight the current economic climate was, and how this is a
terrible time to be seeking work. I got thoroughly depressed, and then an
agency phoned me with a possible job opening. Here's hoping. Being Tuesday the
clans gathered; this time at my house. Being on a 10pm finish I missed seeing
everyone. I was a bit miffed about that, but the chance of a couple of hours overtime isn't to be turned down lightly. And
here's something to make you think. In the past I've lambasted the Church
of England for backing down on its principles to accept gay marriages. I see
the Boy Scouts of America are standing firm in their rejection of all things
gay, despite fierce criticism. Whether you agree with them or not (frankly
I don't) you have to admire how they are sticking to what they believe. Having said that, I
can't pretend that I'm a fan of the Boy Scouts of America. Having spent a
week with them at one of their summer camps I wasn't impressed with what I
saw. They ran their operation along frankly military lines, and several of
their leaders made it perfectly clear that having piercings and tattoos made
me unsuitable to be a scout leader. I can't believe that my week in Camp Piggot was now almost exactly eight years ago. I've got a
diary from that time somewhere. I wish I knew where it was... |
|
18 July 2012
(Wednesday) - The Olympic Flame
I'd been looking
forward to today for some time. Several months ago the route of the Olympic
Flame was publicised; it was to come right past the front door. Something
like this was not to be missed, so we put the word out for people to
congregate in the front garden to shout "Woo Hoo!!"
at it. I must admit I wasn't sure what to expect, but we had a good time. I'd hung out our
Olympic flags, set up the camp chairs, and me and
the Rear Admiral were sitting in the garden from 9am. There were a lot of
houses up the street with flags and bunting. One house had an ice cream van
in the garden. There was definitely something of a party atmosphere up our
road today. There were loads of people out to see the event. The local happy-clappy church was giving out free bottles of water, the local vicar was giving out free scones. Friends soon
arrived, and over twenty of us watched proceedings from the front garden. I
started on the beer at 10am, and was pleasantly refreshed by 10.15am. We woo-hooed at everything that came up and down the road, and
woo-hooed like things possessed at the lady running
with the flame. And when the lady carrying the flame had gone past.... we
looked at each other and that was it. Suddenly there was a great anticlimax. Fortunately we'd anticipated this, and we
adjourned to the back garden where we spent the afternoon having a barby. Having had a month of non-stop rain it was good to
be able to have a barby in the garden. We scoffed, and
drank until the rain eventually started. And then we came inside and watched
"Sky High" until it was time to call it a day. For all that
it would have been good to have partied on, tomorrow is back to work for most
people. Including me.... And
there's photos of the event here |
|
19 July 2012
(Thursday) - This n That
Yesterday was a really good day - a once in
a lifetime special event of which I made the most. A
once-in-a-lifetime chance to see the Olympic flame come past my house, and
then a rare dry day and a barby in the garden with
twenty-odd friends who came and went throughout the afternoon. I even got the
washing machine fixed into the deal. Coming back to reality today was dull. Not
that today was in any way a bad day; just that it was dull. Regular readers
of this drivel will know that there's quite a bit in my life that is out of
the ordinary and eventful, and compared with those days, the average days can
seem oh-so-dull. A comment was made about one of the photos
of yesterday's extravaganza; specifically about how thin I looked. Today's piccie compares that photo of yesterday with one from
exactly a year ago. In that year I've lost (nearly) five stone in
weight: that's sixty-six pounds or thirty kilograms (to anyone of a metric
disposition). My clothes no longer fit, but I'm told I must feel better.
In all honestly I can't say that I notice any difference. Mind you, I like
being thinner: I never liked being the fat lad. No one ever intends to be the
fat lad. It's something that just happens. And now I'm not so lardy, my giblets might
be of use to others after I've croaked. Today I signed up with the national organ donor register I
didn't realise that the old donor cars that I used to carry don't count any more; if you want your bits to be used, you need to
sign up. So I have. I wonder if they could do with the "large glandular
organ in my abdomen"? As I drove home there was an especially
dull article on the radio about the LIBOR - the rate of interest banks charge
each other. there's been a scandal about it
apparently, but I can't really figure out what the scandal is. Which is entirely the problem with high finance. I can
remember (many years ago) a friend who'd recently taken up a job with
one of the big high street banks. He was quite pleased that he could take out
a loan from the bank at an interest rate which was substantially less than
the inflation rate; effectively getting something for nothing. It was a perk
of the job, and no one quibbled. Perhaps if people had quibbled about that
sort of thing thirty years ago we wouldn't be in such a state now...? |
|
20 July 2012
(Friday) - Cards
When I went to bed last night "My
Boy TM"’s
bike was in the hallway. When I got up this morning it was gone. I wonder
what was going on there? Mind you I did hear a minor
ruckus about 3am. I thought that a bomb had gone off in the garden, but when
I looked out I didn’t see anything. Perhaps that was him quietly collecting
his bike? There's no denying that today felt odd. In
years gone by today would be but a drunken haze at Canterbury beer festival,
but enforced austerity and a healthy dose of being sensible (to say
nothing of weight watching) put paid to excessive drinking. Having a day to myself I had all sorts of
things planned. And in a novel break with tradition I got the planned stuff
done. I spent a couple of hours applying for jobs for which I know I will be
turned down (not that I’m getting bitter or anything!), I mowed the
lawn, I ironed fifteen assorted shirts and blouses whilst watching Mad Max 2;
a film which wasn’t anything like as good as I remembered it. I went up the
road to the costume shop to get a Venetian mask for an upcoming bash. And had
it all finished by mid-afternoon. I toyed with the idea of getting my paints
out, but the muse wasn’t upon me. So I mucked about going through my old
files. A few days I mentioned about holidays I’ve had in Canada. I know I
wrote diaries at the time. I can’t find them anywhere. After a few minutes (!) playing
silly on-line games Chip arrived and we set off to Folkestone where six of us
(and a dog) had a particularly good few hands of poker. We haven't
played cards for ages: really must do it more often.... |
|
21 July 2012
(Saturday) - Glambling
The weekly weigh-in. No weight lost; no
weight gained. I can see from MyFitnessPal
(dot com) that my weight has remained the same for two months. Whilst I'm
very pleased with the amount of weight that I've lost so far, there's no
denying that I'd like to shift some more. But realistically I think I've gone
as far as I can go with dieting. So more exercise would seem to be the way
forward. Looking back over the last few weeks I haven't been as active as i might have been. Let's do something about that. We popped into town quickly this morning to
do a bit of banking. Whilst in town I met an old colleague. I hadn't seen her
for years - it was good to catch up. And then on to Folkestone where we
swapped cars for buses and took a scenic route up to Capel.
A really good walk along the cliff tops, and soon we were at a favourite
stomping ground: the derelict plotting rooms, bunkers and shelters left over
from the last war. It might seem as though we were trespassing. Perhaps we
were. But these tunnels have been left open to the elements, and are slowly
decaying. No one takes any responsibility for these tunnels, and I for one
enjoy exploring them. Dangerous? Possibly. But we take care of each other. We had a picnic lunch in the sun and then
went into the first set of tunnels. Easy to get into, a bit damp underfoot.
Compared to many of the tunnels we've been in they are rather dull. But they
were the first tunnels I ever went into at Lydden
Spout, and they are special to me. After a few minutes we then went on a
mission. We knew that there were tunnels below where we pic-niced. We'd read bout them on
the internet, so they had to be there. But finding the entrance would be
tricky. We'd searched before but not found the entrance. Or (taking all
the credit here!) others of our party had searched and I'd stood at the
top of the cliffs and watched them search. This time I went looking for the
tunnel. I scrambled fifty yards down the cliff face to where we'd searched
before. And then I went on another thirty yards further than I probably
should have. And just when I was on the point of giving up I noticed a rope
coming down a slope. For want of anything better to do I used the rope to scramble
up that slope, and at the very top I found an entrance to a tunnel. At first
glance it looked like the tunnel had long since collapsed, but if I had
risked life and limb to scramble that far, so could other brave souls. I
turned - where were they? So I clambered back down the slope and hollered to
the rest of the party. After twenty minutes others were eventually standing
with me at that entrance. It looked like a landslide inside, but I
had been wrong in my initial assessment. In a typical example of idiot
enthusiasm triumphing over common sense "Daddies
Little Angel TM" climbed, struggled and shimmied through
the subterranean landslide. That's my girl! She shouted that it was worth our
while going in, and so we did. And inside that hole halfway down the White
Cliffs were hundreds of yards of tunnels on several levels. We found rooms
and staircases, and spent the best part of an hour investigating. When we
eventually climbed back to the top of the cliffs where the girls had been
waiting, they told us that whilst we were gone they could hear voices but no
one was about. Was it us they could hear: our voices coming up through
ventilation shafts? A quick five minutes in a third set of
tunnels and then, pausing only briefly for Sid to eat cow-poo, it was time to
think about coming home. By one of life's co-incidences there was a pub by
the bus stop, so we had a crafty pint whilst waiting for the bus. The more
eagle-eyed amongst us noticed that whilst in the beer garden waiting for the
bus, two buses went past. We caught the third bus. Once home I had a quick shower and put photos
of our expedition onto the Internet, and then being Saturday night, it
was films night. A different venue, but we sat own and watched three Monty
Python films back to back. I loved it... |
|
22 July 2012
(Sunday) - A House Guest
On Tuesday I mentioned that I missed being
at the week's gathering. I also missed watching "Being Human"
then, so I got out of bed at silly o'clock to catch up on that program this
morning. It was quite a good episode really. I quickly checked my emails; I
had one from Violetta who is apparently "a
playful chick with a lot crazy thoughts in a head!" She admitted that
she wasn't sure what she was looking for; probably "just exciting
dialogue with fellows, maybe flirt, maybe bedroom relations or maybe some
kind of building serious relations if we're lucky." She went on to
hope that I would be exactly what she needed. I hope not. On that note I set off to work. Three weeks
ago I worked on the Sunday. At the time I blogged that I listened to the
Sunday service on the radio as I drove in, and found it quite uplifting. This
morning I listened to the Sunday service and didn't find that at all. This
morning's service came from some happy-clappy
convention, and far from having traditional hymns and stuff that I could
relate to, it was all best described as new-age toadying. I didn't warm to it
at all. Three weeks ago I worked on the Sunday, and
I mentioned that I didn't mind working as I spent the day listening to the
rain. Today I spent much of the day looking out of the window at the glorious
sunshine, and I sulked a bit about missing the pirate day at Hastings to
which a lot of family and friends had gone. Mind you, I'm not complaining:
the chance of bonus hours is not to be turned down lightly; even if I did
miss seeing the world record amount of pirates seen together at any one time.
I'm reliably informed that "er
indoors TM" was part of a crew of over fourteen thousand
pirates. And so, after I'd done my bit I went home
to find our new house guest was in residence. With the first fruit of my
loins having taken his entourage on a family holiday to Great Yarmouth, we
have taken charge of Fudge for a week. Fudge seems quite happy about the
arrangement; so far he has destroyed his new toy, chewed the carpet and tried
to eat the dustbin. Little does he know that it will be a week of "Dog
Borstal" for him. I intend to give him a
couple of serious walks, and his auntie is planning to do some dog training
with him (whether he likes it or not). I've been through the contacts list on my
mobile phone. Since getting my new phone I have transferred all my old
contacts onto it. The phone has then updated the contacts list with any data
it could find on Facebook, with several email contact lists, with a very old
Yahoo messenger application and with a large dollop of random guesswork.
Consequently the phone number list I have on my phone is slightly at odds
with reality. If any of my loyal readers would be so kind as to drop me a
line with their current phone number, I'd be very grateful... |
|
23 July 2012
(Monday) - Walkies It was quite nice
to be greeted by my grand-dog when I came downstairs this morning. I had a
spot of brekkie whilst listening to him destroying
an old lemonade bottle. I've found that all the time I can hear something, I know what he's up to. It's when things go
quiet that I need to worry. Things went quiet
and I found him drinking from the garden pond. Ten minutes later things went
quiet again, and I had a minor panic. He'd disappeared. I was having visions
of calling the police and lost dog services when I eventually heard a
scurrying. He'd got stuck under the shed. Silly pup. He got himself out, and
I went to unload the washing machine. When I came back to the garden the daft
pup was rolling in cat poo. I chased him out of that, pegged out the washing
and went inside to change my shoes. When I came back Fudge was soaking wet.
Absolutely sodden. I can only imagine that he'd been in the garden pond. Leaving the house
came as a blessed relief. I eventually got
the lead onto Fudge (it took some doing) and we met up with Steve and
his pups. Together we went for a bit of a walk to give the dogs a bit of
exercise. We went through Viccy Park to Singleton
and on to Great Chart. Across the lands of Godington
Park to Sandyhurst Lane, and then up to the north
end of Kennington. We stopped for a sandwich and a crafty half at the
Pheasant, and then came home across the new bridge and along the river. Three
and a half hours; about ten miles. It was a lovely day, and it was good to
get out and about. Home, to find
consternation. The idea of us having Fudge for the week is because "My
Boy TM" and his crew are holidaying in Great Yarmouth. We had Fudge
arrive last night so that they could get away promptly this morning. They got
away slightly less promptly than they might have done, got as far as
Maidstone (which is about ten per cent of the way there) when there was a
loud bang, all the lights on the dashboard lit up, and the car fizzled to a
halt. This is the sort of thing which is absolutely hilarious provided that
it is happening to someone else. He got towed home,
and I came home to find a houseful making insurance arrangements for them to
take the "er indoors TM"-mobile on
holiday. They've all set off now, and are (presumably) going to worry
about their car when they get home at the end of the week. With the house to
myself and Fudge worn out (for once) I got my latest batch of beer
into the barrel, and had rather a lazy afternoon. Until we lost the Internet
connection. Oh, I got angry with it. It was at that point that "Daddies Little Angel TM" crashed through the door
shrieking about trivia, which made my blood boil even more |
|
24 July 2012
(Tuesday) - No Internet !!!! Yesterday afternoon my home internet
connection was fine. It died over tea time, and didn't come back up. One only
realises how much one values something when it is gone. I phoned the broadband people to see if the
fault was at their end. A disinterested voice told me that there was a fault
in my area and it hung up. I wondered how he knew where my area was when I
hadn't told him, so I phoned back. I got through to someone who clearly
didn't speak English at all well. Certainly not well enough to use it
professionally. I lost count of the amount of times I told her I didn't
understand what she was saying; and at one point in frustration I asked her
to stop saying "bid bid bid".
Was that wrong of me? Eventually I think she said that there
could be a fault with some third party's equipment, and it might be fixed in
a couple of days time. The
internet connection wasn't working when I got up this morning, so I phoned
back to the Internet people during the late morning today to be connected to
someone whose spoken English was equally bad. I
think I was told that they had received no update from whoever this third
party might be. I tried phoning them again in the late afternoon and after a
lot of to-ing and fro-ing was told that they still had no news. As I hung up
my mobile beeped. A text message. From the broadband people telling me that
there was no news. I'm hoping that the fault is with their
tackle - I really don't need the expense of having to get a new router. Meanwhile Fudge continues being Fudge.
Having had a good night on Sunday night, he had a bad night last night. I lay
awake for ten minutes about 1am listening to him crying. I went downstairs to
sit with him, but he wanted to play. I had two choices. Either I could sleep
with him downstairs or he could come upstairs. He's only a small dog. We
didn't notice him sleeping at the bottom of the bed. and
he was as good as gold, really. I expect we will regret having relented, but
he was sobbing. I couldn't leave him alone all night. Mind you his auntie has
been doing "Dog School" with him today. I did wonder if that
might have sorted him out, but I am reliably informed that he was rubbish at
"Dog School". And there's an update from Great Yarmouth.
The first fruit of my loin and his contingent have arrived safely and have
been in the sea where they have been "playing like cods".
That must have been nice for them. And the denizens of Great Yarmouth... |
|
25 July 2012
(Wednesday) - Back On Line...
A very restless night. I lay awake for much
of the night listening for Fudge's crying. At the first squeak I was going to
fetch him up. He didn't make a sound all night. I got up earlier than I
normally would to see if he was OK only to find he hadn't been shut in the
kitchen. He was sitting at the bottom of the stairs and he could have come up
at any time, but had chosen not to. Soppy pup. After brekkie I
sat in the garden with him whilst he destroyed some pop bottles. He was quite
interested when I fed the Koi. I don't think he'd seen them before. He was
fascinated by them; at one point rubbing noses with a sturgeon. To the farm shop. For somewhere that
specialises in apples and has apple fairs, I was amazed to find that they'd
sold out of apples. They were waiting for the new season apparently, so I
roughed it with a banana and a curly-wurly. Before starting work I phoned the internet
people. It was still down. I got through to yet another person who couldn't
speak English, and after quite a bit of to-ing and fro-ing I got out through
to someone who could mumble English. Not speak it; mumble it. He mumbled
something about British Telecom being involved in sorting the problem. I came
home to be told that British Telecom had "implemented a solution".
Well - the internet connection is working. Let's hope that this solution
remains implemented.... I'd be inclined to swap internet provider
to British Telecom if not for the fact that they are seriously more expensive
that what I have at the moment. Which is why I packed up
with BT in the first place... |
|
26 July 2012
(Thursday) - Walkies
Fudge had a good night. And consequently so
did I. Perhaps I fuss too much about that dog. After
we'd both had some brekkie and I had put the
washing on the line, we went for a little stroll. Getting to Asda was easy enough, but it was shortly after here that things went west. There was a crossing over the
railway, so we crossed; aiming for Park Farm. In retrospect I should have
looked at the map before we crossed the railway. There was no footpath, and
no way out of the field we'd walked into. Faced with backtracking a mile I
picked Fudge up and carried him through a thicket onto the bypass. There was
a dodgy few hundred yards walking along the bypass, but soon enough we found
ourselves in Park Farm and back on course. Flushed with success we opened our
pack and both had a drink. The footpath up to Kingsnorth
Church was clearly marked, and from here we picked up the Greensand Way, heading
through Kingsnorth. The plan was to get an ice
cream from the shop at the bottom of the hill. We found that he shop had
closed down some years before. So we carried on along a lane, and then along
footpaths. We crossed Long Length; a lane we often cycle down, and then
across a corn field. It was at this point that Fudge collapsed. He just
flaked out and wouldn't go any further. We had a drink and a few minutes rest, and
carried on. We left the corn field and found another lane we often cycle
along - cycle route 18 on the far side of Singleton Hill. I once got a photo
of a local for "CrackWatch" along
this lane. We soon left lanes for footpaths again. And the pup which was on
the point of exhaustion only a few moments before was now leaping all over
the place chasing butterflies. Once over the top of Singleton Hill we did
take a wrong turn, but soon got back on course and took the footbridge over
the A28 into Great Chart. If I wasn't on my own I might have popped into the
pub for a crafty half. But I resisted temptation, and we took the underpass
back into Singleton. Round the lake, along the river, though the park and
home. Three and a half hours walking; probably about ten miles covered. As I made myself a sandwich for lunch,
Fudge lay down and slept for the afternoon. He's a good dog really. Whilst he
slept I earned a few quid by doing some on-line surveys. I should do more of
those really. They are easy enough to do; just time consuming, really. "er
indoors TM" came home and we set of to
Folkestone. Collecting Sid and his entourage from the Admiralty we had a
really good walk along the warren and back. Fudge and Sid seem to get on
really well; which is probably for the best. On the way back to the Admiralty
we stopped off and got fish and chips which made for a really good bit of
tea. I was worn out by the time I got home.... I
hope that dog is grateful for my efforts today... |
|
27 July 2012
(Friday) - Astro Club
I got up this morning and as I went
downstairs I was expecting to be greeted by Fudge. I wasn't. He was in his
bed, and when I went up to him he did open an eye and wag his tail. I opened
the back door so he could go out and do his business. He heaved himself up
and as he walked he did seem to hobble somewhat. There's no denying that I
ached somewhat after yesterday's exertions. I seem to have somehow strained
my hip; which is an odd thing to have strained. Perhaps Fudge aches too?
Perhaps both of us need to go out walking more often? I left him with "er
indoors TM" as I went to work; being glad that I didn't
have to shut him in today. He's been a good dog so far. On his first night he
did nibble a rug and have a minor chew of a dustbin. But nothing serious so
far. Unlike a chap
in Devon who was filmed on CCTV causing hundreds of pounds worth of
damage when he chewed a lump out of the seat of the bus on which he was
travelling. Also in the news today was an article about
the imminent
collapse of Facebook and, by implication, all social media. The reason
for this rather bleak outlook? Money. It seems that Facebook is considered to
be a failure because it doesn't make lots of cash for its owners. Doesn't
this speak volumes about the sad state of our society? Does something have to
make loads of money to be worthwhile? Is money the beginning and end of our value
system?
I was hoping for a decent attendance this
evening; we had a guest speaker tonight. We had a decent attendance, which
was good. And I was rather worried about what we
might be getting as a speaker. The last guest speaker was (in my honest
opinion) all wind and piss. I was hoping for better this time. I was
disappointed. Stellar evolution can be a tricky subject to convey
comprehensibly to the masses. But the speaker didn't really give the promised
lecture on stellar evolution. Instead he had a disjointed series of (so-called)
facts which he spouted at random. He kept showing pictures of Hertzsprung Russell diagrams but never explained what
they were. He kept mentioning the concept of absolute magnitude, but never
explained how it could be measured. At first sight the fellow was
entertaining, but I couldn't help but feel that he was all style but no
substance. His presentation would have been good for the general public, but
it needed to be more structured and detailed for an astronomical society. Towards the end I actually fell asleep. And then one of the parish councillors
marched in and complained about the cars in the car park. There are ways to
complain, and marching in shouting at whoever might be there isn't the way to
do it. The fellow didn't recognise me; but I recognised him. He was someone I
originally met through scouting many years ago, and have since encountered in
various places. I think it fair to say that the first time I met him I felt
he was a prat, and in the intervening twenty years he has done nothing to
make me change my opinion of him. Home. I had been worrying about Fudge. He
was fast asleep. It was a shame to wake him... |
|
28 July 2012
(Saturday) - A Birthday Party
We had a late night last night. By the time
I'd done the astro club's finances, time was
pressing on. I had a quick look on Facebook, and it seemed we were missing
something special. Everyone was talking about the ceremony of the start of
the Olympic Games, so we turned the telly on. I wish we could have found what everyone
else had found that was so interesting. For all that we had the right
channel, I remain convinced that somehow we were watching the wrong thing.
The entire world was enthusing about a show which was (frankly)
tedious. What was the attraction of watching several thousand people walking
round a stadium? I managed to give it fifteen minutes before I was bored
senseless. I couldn't believe that some people had been watching that drivel
for hours. But in the end we too watched it for hours; out of a sense of
disbelief, really. The rest of the world was finding this opening ceremony to
be wonderful. It wasn't wonderful. It was boring. Surely we must have been
missing something? I had my weekly weigh-in. I've lost a
pound. Not really surprising when you bear in mind how much walking I've done
this week with Fudge. Perhaps that's the key to further weight loss - borrow
Fudge more often. Talking of which, whilst "er
indoors TM" did the weekly shopping, I took Fudge for a
walk round the Park Farm estate. Not a bad place to go exploring; Fudge
seemed to like it. We came home, and despite last night's disappointment we
thought we'd give the Olympics another go. I cheered Team Paraguay in the
women's sculling. They came third in the heats. I know how to pick a winner(!) We then put on our glad rags and set off to
Park Farm (again). Drinkies, and then on to
the coach and off to Finchcock's for a masquerade
birthday party. Finchcocks is somewhere that I've
driven past so many times and meant to visit, but never did. It was a good
place to visit; especially today as it was the venue of a birthday
masquerade. We started off with Pimms in the
afternoon sunshine, then had a rather special
buffet. A look round the museum of music where I finally learned the
difference between a piano and a harpsichord (something which has had me
foxed for years), and then a concert. The evening was rounded off by
dancing to the live band. I had a go, but found myself struggling to contend
with having more partners than sense. An entertaining time was spent trying
to determine whether one of the band was wearing a
wig, or whether his hair naturally didn't suit his head. It was a great
day out, with great friends. And just as we got on the coach to come home
I suddenly realised that I've reached another stage in life. Once I went to a
lot of birthday parties with jelly and ice cream. Then it was weddings. Now it's fortieth and fiftieth birthdays.
It will be retirements soon... |
|
29 July 2012
(Sunday) - Rain
Bearing in mind the late night we'd had, we
were up far too early this morning. I got the washing on to the line. The Bat
arrived, and we set off to the Riverside Diner for a spot of brekkie as a prelude to the planned walk. Brekkie was good. Everyone else had pancakes and bacon;
being a traditionalist I went for the Full English. Once replete we made our way to Chilham village square where we watched the ageing bikers
and their vintage machines. Keith and Amy arrived; the heavens opened, and we
had second thoughts about the planned walk. Checking the weather forecast
confirmed our fears, and we abandoned our plans. It was a shame, but for the
next hour or so the weather alternated between glorious sunshine and
torrential downpours. If we'd gone on with the walk we would have got soaked,
dried out, got soaked again, and carried on in that vein. And the fields would
have been muddy. So we came home. My laundry on the line was
still wet. I left it out in the hope that it might dry. It did. The afternoon
turned out to be lovely, and we stayed home, did nothing, and I got rather
bored. Mind you, I did spend quite a bit of the afternoon feeling somewhat
light-headed. I hope I'm not sickening for something. "My Boy TM" and
his entourage came round during the afternoon. Home from their holiday, and despite bouts of sickness they all enjoyed
themselves. They collected Fudge and took him home. The house now seems
somewhat emptier with him gone. With absolutely nothing else to do we
watched some of the Olympics on the telly. Synchronised diving - what on
Earth is that all about? Certainly it's an activity which requires skill. But
an Olympic event? Like any of the events which are not scored on distances or
times but on a judge's opinion, how can it be anything but subjective? Then
there was Olympic tennis. Tennis? Is there any place for tennis (and
football come to that) at the Olympics? Surely those sports are done to
death on an international basis elsewhere? Perhaps I'm ungrateful. There are people
who don't do anything with their lives, and actually would welcome an
afternoon spent sitting in front of the telly watching random sporting
events. Me - I was *so* bored today. I found myself ironing some shirts just
to have something to do... |
|
30 July 2012 (Monday) - Missing the Dog...
With Fudge gone back to the Fudgery the house seemed very lonely this morning. No one
was waiting eagerly to greet me when I got up this morning. No one dozed next
to me whilst I scoffed brekkie. I came home to an
empty house this evening. I miss him. I had been expecting a week of chaos and
mayhem last week whilst he stayed with us, and in retrospect that never
happened. He was rather excited on his first evening, chewing a dustbin and
nibbling a carpet, but as time went on, so he calmed down somewhat. He did
love destroying plastic pop bottles in the garden, and there was a dodgy two
minutes with a sturgeon. He doesn't really get on with other dogs that well,
but that's nothing that cutting his goolies off
wouldn't cure. By and large he was no trouble. Perhaps taking him for a lot
of walks wore him out - I'm told that he looks like he's lost weight over the
week. He was a good dog; not scrounging at meal times like so many dogs
would. I didn't like leaving him home alone when we went to work, but a lot
of dogs are left home alone. And on coming back home to him, invariably we
would find he was asleep anyway. And he had no "little accidents"
at all. Now I've had a dog for a week, the burning
question must be "do I want a dog of my own". And for all
that I liked having a dog for a week, the answer
must be a resounding "no". Take Sunday morning for example. We had
planned to go out for a spot of breakfast. Where would we go? Normally we'd
be spoiled for choice. With a dog in tow, the options become severely
limited. Also having a dog in the house can put people off of visiting. Not
everyone likes dogs; there's quite enough badly
behaved ones out there to keep fuelling the prejudices of those who aren't
keen on pups. Forcing the issue by employing the philosophy of "love
me; love my dog" all too often means that rather than your dog
gaining pals, you end up losing friends. Dogs aren't cheap to obtain or to
maintain. They generate a prodigious amount of poop. They need lots of time.
And actually taking a dog on a decent walk can be tricky; I lost count of the
amount of fences and stiles I had to carry Fudge over last week. And I lost
count of the amount of piles of dung in which he tried to roll. Taking a dog
into the pub garden during a walk is off-putting for many people; so many
pubs have "no dogs" policies for that reason. And I get too
attached to animals; I'm currently pining for a dog I see every week
anyway... I liked having the loan of a dog. But I don't think I want one
permanently. Having said that, if anyone wants to re-home
a dachshund I might (just possibly) be interested. Meanwhile my piss (that most volatile of fluids) boiled. Today's
news featured the shocking revelation that if one wants to buy chips at
the Olympics, one must buy McDonalds chips. Unless one has fish with one's
chips. And that's only because McDonalds don't sell McFish
(yet!). If you fancy a crafty half with your McChips,
you can have a Heineken (or go thirsty). And if you want to buy your McChips with a credit card, then it must be a Visa card.
There's been quite a furore about the matter. I've had this discussion in
several places over the last day or so. I only consider this revelation to be
shocking because so many people don't seem to understand the entire concept
of corporate sponsorship. If McDonalds and Heineken and Visa are paying for
the Olympic games (which they clearly
are) then they want a return from their investment. They've paid to be
the sole supplier of their particular product. Of course they don't want KFC
and Burger King and Fosters and MasterCard muscling in on the act. If other
suppliers want to sell their wares, then tough (!) They had their chances to
throw millions of pounds at the Olympics. If, however, we want a choice when buying stuff
at the Olympics, then the entire event should have been funded somewhat
differently (or properly, depending on your political leanings). The
whole concept of corporately funding the 2012 games was something which was
mooted and decided years ago. It's a bit late to be kicking up a fuss now... |
|
31 July 2012
(Tuesday) - Geocaching
There was someone shouting outside the
house at 4am this morning. I wish they wouldn’t do that. And, as always, once
woken I stayed awake. I got up, and was rather hacked off to see the rain. I
had plans for the day. But I got a text – Steve was still game for a walk,
and the weather forecast said that the weather would improve. So we carried
on regardless. Seven people and two dogs met up outside
the KFC, and we made our way to Park Farm via all sorts of back streets and
obscure alleys. From Park Farm we went on to Kingsnorth
Church where we had a quick spot of geocaching. I’d heard all about it from
Steve in the past, and we’ve been threatening to go geocaching for months.
Today we had a go. It’s great fun. Someone hides a little box with a
signature list somewhere and tells geocaching dot com where it is. Using a
GPS based app on your phone you find the app and log it. Sounds simple, but
it kept us out of mischief for a while. We then followed the Greensand way from Kingsnorth to Great Chart (like I did last week with
Fudge) where this time we did go to the pub. We sat in the beer garden
and had our sandwiches. Smaller ones had a glass of pop; me - I had a pint of
Doom Bar. It had been a mistake to stop; we’d all
seized up. Trying to move afterwards was hard work. From the pub we made our
way home slowly. Having four (relative) littluns
along gave us an excuse to stop at play parks on the way home. And we did do
some zip lines too. Once home I showered, ironed a couple of
shirts, and signed up with geocaching dot com. It’s free to join up; the
phone app cost six quid; but what is money for if not to squander foolishly.
If any of my loyal readers geocache, why not add me as
a friend. My user name is something that can be guessed rather easily. And then, being Tuesday the clans gathered.
This time at the Chrisery. On the way there I did
some geocaching. I narrowed one geocache down to being in a thicket of
stinging nettles. I tracked another as far as being in a rather large flower
bed. And actually found the third one. I won't say where it is, just in case
any other geocachers want to find it. I was going to locate the geocache in St
Mary's Church on the way home, but it was getting dark. I'll find that one
another time... |
