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1 March 2012
(Thursday) - Bat and Bird Cake
I was in raptures as I got driven to
Canterbury this morning. We drove the scenic route through the village of Wye
and through several country lanes. As we went there was mist and fog
everywhere. It was so pretty, and it was a lesson on landscape as well. If
only every day could start so well. Unfortunately the day failed to live up to
its initial promise. I'd not slept well last night (there's a surprise!),
and after a colleague told me about her three year old son asking for "bat
and bird cake", I started remembering some of the antics of "Daddies
Little Angel TM" and "My Boy TM"
from twenty years ago, and I found myself getting quite soppy. Fortunately
for me, no one else noticed. I soon got over it. I wonder what that was all
about? And so home again - no mists this evening,
but it was quite good coming home in the daylight. And once home we did a
catalogue drop. If any of my loyal readers would like the opportunity to
purchase some rather wonderful household products at bargain basement prices,
just let me know. My mobile rang. it was Feargal
from Vodafone. What network was my mobile phone with? Normally I'd tell cold
callers to knack off, but they too are fighting for the buck (just like me).
So I answered him. How much was I paying? What phone did I have? And all of a
sudden he was chattering on about the new phone that I would be buying from
his company at five pounds a month more than I'm paying at the moment for
what I would consider to be a poorer phone. Poor Feargal
seemed rather miffed when I told him that I wouldn't be taking him up on his
offer. Or not so much miffed as affronted. To keep him sweet I suggested he
contacted me when my phone contract was up for renewal in a few months time. One of they joys in writing a blog is that
I can find out all sorts of petty details; my contract will be up for renewal
on 2 November. I thought it would be sooner than that... |
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2 March 2012
(Friday) - Chilli, Chat and Choons
Yesterday I waxed lyrical about the
beautiful mists on the way to work. This morning the mists were somewhat
thicker. Mist is pretty. Fog's flipping thick !! I did work, and came home again. The
journey home took ages - my mobile kept bleeping: offers of lifts for later
in the evening and photos for CrackWatch. Once home
I got changed and took up the offer of a lift. The clans were gathering: this
time in Kennington. The plan for the evening was Chilli, Chat
and Choons. And we did all three. The food was
excellent - the home made key lime pies were wonderful, the baked vegetable thingie was excellent. The chilli had chocolate in it. We
spotted "Where's Wally", we chatted, exchanged insults.. it
was a really good evening with friends (old and new). I had made a
decision not to drink very much. I started off well with a tin of Tanglefoot, but the pint of 10% Belgian beer was probably
a mistake. And the half a dozen Margaritas were definitely a mistake. But the evening was really good - for all
that I kept nodding off. We eventually left about 1am. Must do it again. And I'll close today with an interesting
statistic - there is ten times more money spent on ringtones for mobile
phones than there is spent on research into sustainable nuclear fusion. One
is giving you a silly noise to tell you that your mate has a new knob joke;
the other will give humanity unlimited power to run those mobile phones. Do I
have to spell this one out...? |
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3 March 2012
(Saturday) - Stuff
By the time we'd got home last night, had a
shower and farted about, it was gone 1.30am before I got to bed. But I didn't
mind. I know how my brain works, and with no need to be up early I knew I
would sleep in. Or so I thought. "er
indoors TM" crashed to bed about 2am and woke me. "My
Boy TM" crashed home at 3.30am and must have woke most of
the county. I woke bursting for a tiddle shortly
before 6am. "My Boy TM" quietly went for a tiddle at 7.30am. He then came back to bed "as
quietly as a mouse" fifteen minutes later. Shortly after 8am next
door's kids started shrieking for half an hour. At 9am "My Boy TM"
started teaching elephants to tap-dance (I can honestly think of nothing
else which would have made so much noise). I gave up trying to sleep and got up. I had my weekly weigh-in. I'm still losing
weight, but at a much slower rate than once I was.. Where a few months ago I
was losing three pounds a week, now I've only lost one pound over the last
two weeks. Which is probably a far better rate of weight loss. "My
Boy TM" asked if I wanted to go up to the town with him.
I had some stuff to do in town anyway, so kissing "er
indoors TM" goodbye, we set off. We popped round to the Fudgery where I wound up one of my grand-dogs, then we
went into Ashford. First of all to the Old-Bill-o-Drome. Following his getting caught for speeding last week,
"My Boy TM" had to present all of his documents
at the local cop shop. Doing so was much easier than I thought it would be.
Paying a cheque into my bank wasn't so easy though. For some reason my bank
have decided not to have counter staff on Saturdays, and I'm afraid to say
that their automated systems aren't up to the demand. Paying money into the astro club's account in to the bank over the road (where
they did have counter staff on duty) was so much easier. And I got to
meet Denver from the astro club in that bank too. "My Boy TM" was
peckish - did I fancy a fry-up? Yes, I did. I've not had one since the diet
started six months ago, so we went into The Gorge where I had the full
English breakfast. I've since worked out that the brekkie
was worth over nine hundred calories, but I did enjoy it. And as the rain
started we then had a mooch round the shops.. W.H. Smiths was a disappointment. I have a
voucher for that shop, and there was absolutely nothing in it that I wanted.
If anyone wants to get anything from WH Smiths, why not give me cash that I
can use, and you can use my voucher. We looked in the CEX shop for the "Sons
of Anarchy" DVD boxed set. They didn't have it. Wilko's
didn't have lighter fuel, and the poundstretcher
shop didn't have any canvases. So we went to the milk shake shop where I had
a cherry shake and "My Boy TM" had a creme egg shake and we came home. It would have been good to have done
something with the afternoon, but it was raining. So I slobbed
in front of the telly for a bit whilst mucking about on Facebook. And once
the rain stopped we went out and collected the catalogues we'd dropped on
Thursday evening. A nice walk in the sunshine and a bit of exercise to walk
of the morning's fry-up can't be bad. I then came home to spend an hour or so
doing on-line surveys for financial gain. If you click on this link http://www.free20quid.com/r/1188086
and do the survey I get two quid, and you get twenty quid and the chance to
invite others to give you two quids. Everyone's a
winner. So please, loyal readers, click on that link. Go on - please do.
Let's see how much cash I can get. And then, being a Saturday night, it was
film night. We got chauffeured round to the Chrisarium
where we made ourselves comfortable and watched a Johnny English double bill.
Rowan Atkinson was very good as Johnny English, but to my mind Johnny English
is a very two-dimensional character; within the first ten minutes of the
first film I think we'd seen all the film had to offer. And the second film
was (in many ways) just a re-hashing of the first one. Very
watch-able, but nothing special. Which was a shame. Mind you, they weren't
long films. So once they were over we played with the model train set. We
even had a head-on collision. Whoops.... |
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4 March 2012
(Sunday) - Tardis-scapes
Bearing in mind how
glorious it was last Sunday, I woke this morning with all sorts of plans for
what we might do with the day. So much for my plans. Whilst the rain wasn't
actually torrential, it was certainly bad enough to put the kibosh on any
plans which involved going out of the house this morning. So over brekkie I spent a few minutes playing on-line scrabble,
then spent more time job hunting. Only a couple of hours today. Will anything
come of it? I must admit I'm becoming rather disillusioned about the whole
"change of career" idea. I've been applying for so many jobs
for so long, and so far there's been very little to show for my efforts. I don''t actually dislike my job, and I work with a really
good bunch of people. But there's no denying that I spend most of every day
absolutely bored rigid. Mind you, I did get
cross with some of the web sites I used for applications today. Why do web
site designers think that it's worth having all sorts of bells and whistles
on a web site when all that they do is make a web page take five minutes to
load when a plain text version would achieve the same result in five seconds. We still had some
catalogues to collect, so despite the rain we set off round the local roads
to see if anyone wanted to buy our wares. One or two people were up for a
bargain. Not as many as I would have hoped, but more than I might have
expected. We came home and dried off, and I sold another painting - that makes
five in total. And then I got my paints out and did some more painting. Badger Original Landscapes
has developed two more bespoke lines. I now do mini canvases on easels; small
paintings which are five inches by seven inches. Or seven inches by five
inches, depending on the customer's preference. And the second line is
something rather unique - "Tardis-scapes".
"Tardis-scapes" will be just like
any other landscape, but with a Tardis in there
somewhere. I'm hoping to cash in on the sci-fi enthusiast market. I'm not
entirely happy with how the first one has turned out, but then I am rarely
happy with how any of my paintings ever turn out. And then I went to
the loo for the umpteenth time. I'm not blaming Friday's chilli or
yesterday's fry-up. But something has upset my guts. The rumbling can be
heard a hundred yards away, and the flappy-woof-woofs are quite rancid. I
wonder what has caused the gastric distress - I wish I knew because I
wouldn't eat whatever it was again... |
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5 March 2012
(Monday) - This and That
I woke up only a quarter of an hour too
early today. Let's hope this is the start of something new and something
good. And so to work. I popped into Morrisons to
get petrol. They were two pence per litre cheaper than the Esso garage which
was not two minutes drive up the road. What was
that all about? How do these people stay in business? This morning I had a phone call from a
major international company. I'd applied for a job with them. Apparently one
of the managers there recognised my name, and was wondering why I was
applying for a job in the North of England. I explained that the job I'd
applied for wasn't based in the north. After a few minutes of "oh yes
it is", "oh no it isn't" the lady on the phone checked the
advert. And then wondered out loud how they'd managed to make that mistake.
It turned out that I was in with a better than outside chance; if only I'd
been prepared to relocate to Northshire. Maybe in
the fullness of time, but not right now, eh? And then at tea break something happened
which has never happened before. My Kindle flashed up a low battery warning.
Low battery (!) The battery has never done that before. I'm quite
impressed. And so, suitably impressed, I came home and set about ironing the
family's shirts. A tedious job, but one which needs doing. Really I should
look at getting new shirts; many of my shirts have an eighteen inch collar
and at today's measure-up I found that I now have a sixteen inch neck. But
with another inch having gone from my waist and hips today, I can't help but
wonder how much smaller I am going to end up. After all, I have already
bought one pair of trousers which are already too big. And then the doorbell rang. Having seen
what an amazing purchase
a mutual friend had made yesterday, Sarah and Steve realised that they needed
original artwork too. We chatted for a while, and then as Sarah and Steve set
off into the rain with their latest acquisition, I finished off my ironing,
and then settled down in front of the telly for the evening. "The
Belles of St Trinians" made for
entertaining viewing. And it's a sobering thought that the girls who acted in
that film are now drawing their pensions. And in closing today, did you know that we
are now in British Pie Week?
No? Neither did I. I rather naively assumed that British Pie Week was about
increasing the public awareness and perception of the Great British pie.
Perhaps it is, but having spent ten minutes perusing their website, I can;t help but feel that he whole sorry idea is just a
vehicle for selling a certain brand of pastry. Am I just getting cynical in my old age? |
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6 March 2012
(Tuesday) - Tree Huggers
As a paid up member of the Tree Huggers, I'm a bit miffed
with them. Yesterday I found out via the astro club
committee that they are having a stargazing event later in the year. And I
found out this morning through Facebook that they are having a kite-flying
event in a few weeks time. It would have been nice
to have been told about these events from Tree Hugger HQ directly; I'm left
wondering how many other events I might have missed. I would post a whinge on
their Facebook
page, but the last time I posted there (to report vandalism), my
post got deleted. Being rather bored today I spent a little
while perusing various job adverts. I also spent some time revamping the
covering letter I send out with my job applications. The new-look cover
letter might do some good; it might not. Time will tell. It usually does. I also added my father-in-law to my LinkedIn
account. I must admit that I'm still undecided about the whole LinkedIn
thing. I can only describe it as "Facebook for normal people".
I am assured that it is intended for setting up a network of contacts for
various professional matters. Hopefully it might be good for lining up a job:
it don't hurt to try it. The idea is that you can recommend people's
services: a shame I can't see how to actually do it. Being Tuesday the clans gathered - this
time at Chris's where, after exchanging a few insults, we watched another
episode of "Being Human". For all that the basic premise is
rather daft (a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost sharing a house), the
show is getting really good. And then home again where I played on-line
scrabble. Possibly for the last time. The game has changed since yesterday -
it now has pop-up adverts appearing every time I do anything in the game.
Which is a pain, to say the least... |
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7 March 2012
(Wednesday) - Bargains
Yesterday I
mentioned that I'd sexed up the cover letter that I send out with my job
applications, and that I'd launched the thing into the Internet. This
afternoon it seemed to have worked. I had a phone call from a recruitment
agency. We chatted - the chap from the agency was impressed with me. He liked
what I was saying. His only concern was that what I was saying wasn't
conveyed by my C.V. Had I thought of having my C.V. reviewed by a
professional C.V. writer? And before I knew where I was, the chap was asking
how I would like to pay. He can go whistle. And so home. Where
it was obvious we'd had a visitor. All the lights were on, the telly was
blaring, there was crockery and half-eaten food as far as the eye could see,
and the floor was awash with dog biscuits. Just as I started to clear the
mess, "Daddies Little Angel TM"
burst through the door, complete with grand-dog Sid. She muttered something
about tidying up, vanished upstairs for ten minutes and then said she had to
go. I walked up the
road with her, partly to exchange insults with her chauffeur, and partly
because I was going that way anyway. Mid-week is leafleting time; I had my
sights set on Francis Road, and I delivered catalogues to the masses. Or most
of the masses. I didn't bother with houses that had signs up saying that they
don't want circulars. I had an interesting conversation with one of the
residents. Having had one of our catalogues popped through his door, he stood
in his garden and hollered down the road for me to come back and take the
thing away. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. The bloke looked
just like Ned Flanders from the Simpsons, was trying to appear suave and
sophisticated, and was coming over as some sort of half-wit. I politely asked
if he didn't want the catalogue. He attempted to look down his nose at it,
but merely looked like he was inspecting his moustache for fleas. I took the
catalogue, and in parting I mentioned that it was a shame he didn't want to
peruse the thing because he looked like he could use a bargain. I managed to
keep a respectful tone, and I managed not to laugh at him as he began to
bluster as I walked off. If any of my loyal
readers would like to avail themselves of some serious bargains, you might
look no further than at the top of this blog entry. There's a box on the
right, blue in colour, marked "Stuff for Sale". I may well
be adding to my commercial ventures over the next few weeks, but there's one
or two bargains there to be getting on with for the time being... |
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8 March 2012
(Thursday) - Ramblings
Having spent six months job hunting, it finally
occurred to me that a family friend works in an employment agency. I’d not
seen her for a while, but she was the young lady in question when I was
hauled into the school (many years ago) because "My Boy TM"
had been doing snogging in the classroom rather than doing his lessons. We’ve arranged for me to pop in to the
agency for a chat when we can find a mutually convenient time (as I’m not
the typical job hunter). Here’s hoping…. Meanwhile I heard that science might have
finally discovered
the Higgs Boson. Having cost over six billion quid, after four years the
Large Hadron Collider has done what it set out do do. One can’t help but wonder what science is
now going to do with the Large Hadron Collider now it’s found Higgs Bosons. I
can remember (in years gone by) the fruits of my loin discarding their
unwanted toys once the novelty had worn off. (In fact a humungous exhaust
pipe which has been cluttering up my shed for the last few years springs to
mind). However at six billion quid, this is rather a pricey novelty to
have worn off. If science doesn’t want its Large Hadron Collider any more,
I’ll have it; I’ll sell the thing on eBay. One of the members of the astro club sent me a message through Facebook this
evening. Did I know when Mars would be visible when you would be looking in a
southerly direction? I wish people wouldn't ask me questions like that. For
all that I am a very visible and loud presence at the astro
club, I don't actually know very much about practical astronomy. I make no
secret of the fact; but everyone thinks I am joking. It can make for
embarrassing situations. When I say I don't know my Castor from my Pollux, I'm not playing to an audience; I'm making a
statement of fact. For all that I know, Mars could be
absolutely anywhere in the sky, and having eventually persuaded Neville that
he'd be better off asking someone else (and pointing him in a couple of
specific directions) the doorbell rang. My eldest daughter (!) had
come round to collect a Mothers Day present. And
being a very astute lady she'd decided to spend her money with Badger Original Landscapes.
I wish more people would do the same. I was rather disappointed not to have seen
the Northern Lights this evening. With the general public in major panic
because the
Sun had exploded (apparently), all that we had to show for the
explosion was some pretty lights in the sky. Or, that is in some skies. Not
in mine. Which was a shame: realistically if I’m going to achieve things in
life, I am leaving it all rather late. And in these austere times the only
way I’m going to see the Northern Lights is if they come to me. It’s a shame
that they didn’t. |
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9 March 2012
(Friday) - Stuff
Being on a late
today meant I got to have a bit of a lie-in. But only a bit. It’s always
noisy on recycling day. The same dustmen who are really quiet on Wednesdays
make a terrible noise on Fridays. I’ve complained in the past and have been
told that they make the noise because they don’t want to do the recycling.
I’d quite happily swap my current daily round for doing the recycling if any
of them really don’t want to do it. And then the
drilling started. For no reason that I can establish, workmen have started
excavating the pavement just up the road from our house. And this morning
they parked a lorry full of all manner of digging apparatus right outside the
front of the house, climbed on the back of the lorry, and started banging
various lumps of metal together. Probably because they could. Yesterday I
mentioned here about an exhaust pipe that is cluttering up the shed. Whilst I
was having some brekkie this morning My Boy TM"
came home; I harangued him about his exhaust pipe. Apparently he’s going to
sell it though Facebook since eBay is “too much like farting around”.
He then went to the shed to get out his fishing gear and realised why I was
whinging about the exhaust pipe. There isn’t very much room in the shed to
begin with; and much of the space is taken up by a huge exhaust pipe. His
huge exhaust pipe. And so to work. A
minor disappointment: I had been offered the chance to do two night shifts
this weekend to help out because of the chaos which would have resulted from ongoing building works. Unfortunately the building works
have been postponed, and so the chance of twenty-five hours work (paid at
time and a half) has just gone up the Swannee.
Which is a shame. Mind you I would have missed the Saturday film night, and
missing that is never a good thing. Meanwhile I bet this
chicken has a very sore bum…. |
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10 March 2012
(Saturday) - This n That
We'd heard that there were all sorts of
Wii-bargains to be had at giveaway prices at the toy shop in town. We'd heard
that they were seriously cheap, so we decided to be on the shop's doorstep
for when they opened at 9am. We finally woke shortly after 10am, had a
leisurely brekfast and thought we might try the toy
shop later. I had the weekly weigh-in. Yesterday I was two pounds down on
last week's weight; this morning I wasn't. So I cut the difference and
claimed that I was a pound down. Having started the diet at eighteen stone
nine pounds I'm now (about) fourteen stone five pounds. That's over
four and a quarter stone lost, but (apparently)
still another two stone to go until I'm no longer overweight. I am told that,
in much the same way that ex-smokers become very militant anti-smokers, I am
becoming a diet-bore. I probably am. But if one is going to lose weeight, it is a full-time committement.
(That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!) My left knee still hurts. On Thursday
morning I went to look at my pond, and slipped on the ice on the decking.
Somehow I seriously ricked my kneecap, and two days later it's still rather
painful. But regardless of the pain, I hobbled bravely to town. It made for a
morning out. We went to that toy shop to look for the Wii-bargains. We were
disappointed: all that we could find was standard-priced stuff being perused
by the Great Unwashed. Literally unwashed. I had to leave the shop, the body
odour was that strong. We went into the pound shop as well, and
picked up some bargains. I had another look at spending my W.H. Smiths
voucher, but could find nothing I wanted. I suspect I shall end up wasting
the voucher on something i don't really want. As
I've mentioned before, if any of my loyal readers need anything from W.H.
Smiths, please let me know and buy my voucher from me. (He grovelled) And so home, where I did some more on-line
surveys. I did get a bit cross with some of thes
survey web sites. Every survey on every site asks my age, date of birth,
gender and location (on seperate pages)
before deciding that I don't qualify for that particular survey. All of the
web sites have this information as part of my profile before I start each
survey. I don't see what asking for this information acheives,
other than wasting my time. Mind you, I shouldn't complain. I get
credit for doing these surveys. And today I cashed in some of that credit
from one of my accounts, and hopefully a voucher for twenty quid for Tessco should come in the post in a few days. I intend to
use that money to buy a pair of trousers that fits me. And still on the theme of chasing that
elusive dollar, regular readers may remember that last Wednesday I dropped
off some catalogues in Francis Road. This afternoon we went back to collect
them. We had a very good return rate, and one or two orders too. It won't
make me rich, but it might keep the wolf from the door for another few days. Being a Saturday night, we went round to
Chris's house for film night. FIrst of all we
watched "Real Steel" - a Disney film about boxing robots.
I've seen worse films but I've seen a lot better too. And then we watched
"The Three Musketeers" - it was (surprisingly) good
fun. And I stayed awake for both films..... |
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11 March 2012
(Sunday) - Hythe (?)
It was gone midnight before we got home
last night. "My Boy TM" had left some KFC on the
table, so I scoffed it, and gave myself guts ache. I then tried to make sense
of a load of really odd messages I had read on Facebook. Someone I had
considered (for years) to be a good friend had made a posting on Facebook
claiming that one of my muckers was being victimised by his circle of
friends. It would seem that disjointed fragments of an idle conversation from
over a year ago (which I can't actually remember having had) had been
dragged up for no reason that I could establish, deliberately mis-represented, mis-construed
and then blown out of all proportion. And somehow in all of this, I had
become the villain of the piece. Several people were on-line last night at
1am, including the victim and the person who'd posted the allegations. We got
chatting. By the time everyone who was on-line at the time had all kissed and
(seemingly) made up it was gone 3.30am. I then had a rather restless
few hours in bed, alternating between feeling very sorry for myself because
people seem to be so quick to think the worst of me, and feeling very sorry
for myself because the warmed-up KFC had given me guts ache. My phone started bleeping with text
messages shortly after 9am, and I then spent the morning re-hashing the
previous evening's squabbles with everyone who wasn't awake after midnight
last night. The plan for the day was originally to be a
walk round King's wood, but "My Boy TM" suggested
that there was a better walk to be had in Hythe. Not knowing Hythe very well,
I was happy to go along with his better judgement. So seven of us (and a
dog called Fudge) set off to Hythe. We drove to Hythe, and through Hythe
and out the other side. Through Seabrook, and to the Folkestone Coastal Park.
So much for Hythe. But Folkestone Coastal Park is good. Littlun enjoyed playing in the park, and then we walked
down to the harbour where we had cockles and whelks. (Yum!) My other
grand-dog arrived (with his entourage), and we wandered back along the
beach. Fudge then disgraced himself. Firstly by pulling "er indoors TM" flat on her
face, and secondly by getting out his "lipstick" and
attempting a bout of "the love which dare not speak its name"
with his dog-cousin Sid. Sid seemed to accept the fact that Fudge was
travelling on the other bus, but didn't seem overly keen on Fudge's physical
manifestations of his intentions. Fortunately for all, Fudge's urges soon
passed; it might be time to have his "pockets picked"? Seeing the notices that children using the
climbing equipment should be supervised, I took the opportunity to clamber
all over, up and down the climbing frames with littlun
until we were both worn out. As we made our way back to the cars we saw an
area for barbecues. We must go back to the coastal park one
evening (mob-handed) for a barby. And I came home to find that last night's
squabble was still in full flow. I was soon messaging the person from whom
all the unpleasentness originated via Facebook
about the ongoing squabble. When I wondered how on
Earth this sorry issue had been dragged up when it was all something over
nothing, and had all been sorted out fifteen months ago I got told "f*ck off dave u two faced *ssh*le". Which was nice. The victim of the piece was also on-lne. I told him about this latest development. He wasn't
entirely surprised. And it would seem that I've finally solved the mystery of
what the ongoing nastiness was all about. It transpires that the whole sorry story
had been dragged up by someone who delights in stirring up bad feeling. This
person is known to have mental health issues and problems with alcohol abuse.
And (ironically) is someone for whom I've bent over backwards to help
and to whom I've opened my home so many times. Someone I iinvited
along on a family holiday last year, and someone for whom I lined up
cut-priced tattooing. I realise that someone who reguarly eats the contents of the medicine cupboard and
who has (on occassion) tried to overdose on
birth control pills might not be in the most balanced frame of mind, and I
will treat their opinions with the contempt that it deserves. But through his drunkenness/mental
illness/outright evil (I really don't know which) I seem (through
no fault of my own) to have fallen out with one of my dearest friends. I cannot forgive this person for having
caused that.... |
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12 March 2012
(Monday) - The Old School
I slept reasonably well last night –
eventually waking at about 5.30am. I expect that this was due (in no small
part) to the terrible night’s sleep I had on Saturday night. Wide awake
and raring to go (!), I got up, abluted, watched a
bit of telly and then set off to work earlier than usual. The boss has
suggested that I try something new… As an experiment I shall only work for
three days this week; but they will be longer days with no lunch break. I
will get all my working hours done in these three days. Everyone else has to
do less early and late shifts this week, and I save the cost of two journeys
(about fourteen quid). Everyone’s a winner. If it works, more people
might take up this way of doing their hours. I must admit that for years I have quite liked
the idea of working fewer days in the week, but longer days. But the
theoretical idea is rather different to the actual experience. Leaving home
at 7am for twelve and a half hours of sheer unadulterated tedious boredom and
then getting home at 9pm made for a long day. Mind you, with "er indoors TM" out bowling
tonight, it wasn’t as though I was going to miss much at home this evening
anyway. Yesterday I mentioned that I’d had cockles
at the seaside. As I scoffed them I half hoped that I’d get squits, which would be good for both weight loss and a
day off work. It turned out that I ended up egg-bound and spent the day
feeling rather bloated (as well as bored); which wasn’t nice (!) Completely out of the blue I had an email
though my work email account. “Barrel” (who was one of my
contemporaries at Hastings Grammar School in 1975) has started up an “Old Boys”
group on Facebook for alumni of our old school, and he wondered if I’d
like to join it. (I had actually already found and joined that list a week
or so ago). When I joined that group I saw some old
acquaintances that I remembered, one or two people who wouldn’t know me from
Adam, and one chap whose eye I blacked for him in the early 1970s. Do I want to be remembered by those that
are left of class 1Z? (And yes – it actually was class 1Z!) ? Over the
years I’ve made the effort to get in touch with those that I want to get in
touch with. As for the rest? It might be good to chat about the old days, but
I doubt many of them would remember me. I had some good friends at school,
but as one of the school’s non-sporty fat kids I joined in what I can only
describe as an alliance of mutual self-defence with the rest of the halt and
the lame. And as such we were generally shunned by the in-crowd. And I don’t
suppose anyone from that far back would recognise my pseudonym anyway. Perhaps I should join this group under my
proper name? It might confuse less people. I might just start up a Facebook
account in my proper name that I could use for when I’m on my best behaviour.
(I could use that account for people who don’t know me). As I came home this evening I looked for
the spectacular sight in the sky, but couldn't see it because of the fog. And
I had a sly smile at the thought of the new-age hippies who will be getting
all of a quiver tonight. Venus and Jupiter are having a conjunction. Anyone
who’s looked into the night sky recently must have seen the bright lights of
Venus and Jupiter. Several people have asked me what the bright things are;
and I’ve amazed myself by being able to answer. Over the next day or so they will be very
close together. It looks pretty, but as for any special significance of this
conjunction… well any significance which is assigned to conjunctions is a
load of crystal balls. The bright lights might look close together in the
sky, but that is merely an optical illusion based on our perspective. Far
from actually being close together, one of those planets is five times
further away from us than the other is. Mind you, that doesn’t stop the hippy-types
assigning all sorts of meaningless significances to the conjunction... |
|
13 March 2012
(Tuesday) - Another Tardiscape
Yesterday I mentioned that I was doing
three extended working days this week. Today was one of my non-working days.
It was an odd day. I tried to lie in, but I found myself far too hot, so I
pulled the cover back a bit. Five minutes later I was too cold. So I pulled
the cover back up and got too hot again. I spent half an hour alternating
between shivering and sweating before giving up and getting up. With little else planned I spent three
hours perusing the Internet for jobs. I must have applied for fifty jobs, and
have already been turned down for most of them. This job hunting is becoming
profoundly depressing. But I did get two phone calls from the agencies, so
the morning wasn't entirely wasted. As my stomach started seriously rumbling I
warmed up last night's left-overs and scoffed whilst watching a DVD of the Royle Family. Jim and Barbara were off on a holiday to
the Pearl of Prestatyn, and Dave was in terrible
trouble for driving in kilometres and for flirting with the sat-nav. I couldn't help but feel it was better that he
flirted with the sat-nav
than with Beverly Macca, but what do I know? Whilst Jim Royle
ranted I did some on-line surveys. It passed the time, and raked in a couple
of quid. I don't get rich by doing these surveys, but it's a few quid in the
back pocket I wouldn't otherwise have had. I've also been accepted as an
on-line author: the plan is that people will announce subjects on which they
want articles, and I (and others) will write articles for them in
exchange for cash. In theory it's a nice little earner. In practice I doubt
I'll get rich. But it might help to pass the time, and might take my mind off
of fretting. I then got my paints out and did another Tardiscape. I really need to sort out the photography I'm
doing of my paintings. The paintings aren't that bad, but my photographs make
them look really awful. Today I tried with different cameras, in different
places, with and without flash; and the above piccy
is the best of a very bad lot. ANd here's a
thought: if any of my loyal readers want to surprise heir
mother with a unique original present on Mothers Day
this weekend, you might do a wholoe lot woprse than get them something from Badger Original Landscapes.
There's stuff available from the gallery, and there's still time to
commission something. Being Tuesday the clans gathered. This time
in Folkestone where we exchaged insults. My
grand-dog Sid seemed to have recovered from the amourous
advances of his dog-cousin from last weekend. Mind you, Sid was tooting like
a thing possessed. Pausing only briefly to frape
the Facebook account of the most recent fruit of my loin, we watched an
episode of "Firefly". It was really good - it's ages since I
last watched "Firefly"... |
|
14 March 2012
(Wednesday) – Stuff
Here’s
a thought. On the drive to work this morning I heard the news that sales
of casserole dishes and stepladders are down. Seriously down. So seriously
down that their sales have been removed from the official figures used by the
government to measure sales of things like (but now not including)
casserole dishes and stepladders. There is speculation that today’s houses
have lower ceilings and so do not require the use of stepladders. I wondered
if, with the lower ceilings, one might obtain the same result one used to get
from a stepladder by merely standing on a casserole dish. However that would
not explain why sales of casserole dishes are down. Perhaps people aren’t
eating casseroles any more because it’s not
hygienic to use a dish that’s been used as a stepladder? And so on with the second of my extended
working days. My colleagues are watching my progress with this experiment
with interest; some are very keen to work longer days (as I am doing this
week); others are dead against the idea. For myself I am (so far)
quite keen on the idea. Getting to Canterbury for 7.45am means that I miss
much of the traffic that I encounter when I would otherwise leave Ashford at
7.30am. And leaving Canterbury after 8pm means that again the roads are
clear. Fewer journeys with much less starting and stopping must be good for
the car’s fuel economy. And the day itself? I used to blog
elsewhere about work. I don’t any longer. There are a variety of reasons for
this; suffice it to say that my heart’s not in it any more. I got to work at
7.45am, put a smile on my face (to fool the public) did my bit (and
far more; I was that bored), and eventually walked out again over twelve
hours later. Regular readers of this drivel may recall
that two days ago I mentioned that I was egg-bound. The highlight of my
working day today was sneaking a crafty fifteen minutes for a “Kapow!”on the chodbin
with my Kindle during the late afternoon. (I wonder if I should add the chodbin to the “Dramatis Personae” list which can be
accessed above?) Meanwhile kiddies of today would seem to
have exactly the same
problems with their fangs as I have. My teeth are rubbish, and it’s
commonly known that I am of a generation which ate far too many sweets, and
the sugar has done for our teeth. Exactly the same is happening with the kids
of today. But rather than having sugary sweets, they are having healthy
fruit. “Healthy” – perhaps not. The acidic juices and natural sugars
would seem to be just as bad as the sweet that I used to scoff. Now proven equally bad, given the choice of
fruit or sweets I know what I'd have... |
|
15 March 2012
(Thursday) - Laminate Flooring
Doing three long
working days this week meant for another day off work today. Like Tuesday I
had planned a lie-in, but workmen up the road started drilling shortly after
8am. So I got up, only to find "Daddies
Little Angel TM" throwing dog biscuits all over the
floor. Apparently the dog bowl hadn't been washed up. So I set her to doing
the washing up and wished I hadn't: she used more washing-up liquid in one
bowlful than I use in a month. I checked emails
over brekkie and found I'd been turned down for
more jobs. I'm sure the agencies don't actually read my C.V. and covering
letter: I'm sure they scan it and assume an awful lot about me. Perhaps
another re-write might be in order. I got dressed, and
did another catalogue drop. it was a lovely day for it. And having spent half
an hour doing that, I then went into the garden and mucked out the pond's
fish poo filter. A smelly job, but one which needed doing. I should really
have done it back when I turned the fish poo filter off back in the autumn,
but such is life. And I continued in the garden with mowing the lawn and
mucking out the back yard. The recycling had got rather out of control. There are two
schools of thought on the subject of recycling. One is that you gather
together all recyclable material, and periodically take it to a central
collection point. The other is that you open the back door and fling all
sorts of rubbish out into a pile that you call "the recycling".
I think we are subscribing to the wrong theory. I spent an hour or
so doing on-line surveys for (hopefully) financial gain, and then
"My Boy TM" came home muttering about laminate
flooring. Fudge and his entourage are moving house at the weekend and needed
to lay a laminate flooring in the new residence. Having laid one such floor
once (some five years ago) made me an expert on the subject, and so I
was co-opted to help. I fetched, carried, sawed (rightly and wrongly),
laid laminate, took up wrongly laid laminate and laid it properly, and
generally helped out. Lacey's new bedroom is small,
and it only took us a couple of hours to sort out the floor. And so home, where
"er indoors TM"
was boiling up scran. She does boil a decent bit of
scran. Whilst in the shower I noticed a very odd
rash on my shoulder. I'm told it's from the heavy bag of catalogues I was
lugging about earlier. Let's hope so. We then scoffed
said scran whilst watching a film. "In
Bruges" started well, but dragged on a bit. It would probably have
seemed a better film if I hadn't nodded off several times.... |
|
16 March 2012
(Friday) - Stuff
Can
I start today with an apology to any of my loyal readers who’ve been waiting
for me to do my turn in the twenty-odd games of on-line scrabble I have on
the go. I tried to catch up with some of the games this morning before work.
But now every game I try to play is delayed by a pop-up window. It stays on
screen for ten seconds before I can close it. Ten seconds might not sound
very long, but when you have far too many games on the go those seconds soon
add up. I
am seriously considering packing up on-line scrabble because of these pop-up
windows. So much for advertising (!) And
then to work - the end of the week – the end of the great experiment. I’ve
just worked the same amount of hours in three days (Monday, Wednesday and
today) that I would normally work in five days. Rather than doing seven and a
half hours each day, I did twelve and a half hours. How
did it go? I liked it. What with chronic insomnia and getting to work early
anyway to miss the traffic, the early start made no difference to me. And the
late finishes? Er indoors goes bowling on Mondays
and swimming on Wednesdays and flogs candles to the masses on Fridays, so I
didn’t miss much at home. And having days off mid-week gave me the
opportunity to not waste my weekend in chores such as job-hunting and laundry
and gardening, and gave me some quality time for doing some painting with the
fruits of my loin. Alternating days off with days working meant that (oddly)
I didn’t have that “Monday feeling” this week. The
boss has hinted that she thought it went well for the department (as no one
wants to do the late finishes), so this might just be the way of the future.
If so it might make getting to astro club tricky,
but I’m sure I can sort something out once a month. After all, that’s what
annual leave is all about. My
phone rang whilst at work. Stevie’s phone had gone berserk and had randomly
decided to phone me. Mobile phones do that – only the other day I had a
rather bizarre text message from another friend whose phone had chosen to
pick a random text message from its message history and send it to me. I do
hope my phone doesn’t feel the need to join in. I
feel the need to apologise for my ire, but this morning’s news annoyed
me. I see that the Archbishop of Canterbury is jacking it in, and is going
off to run a university. I realise that I too am planning to abandon one
career in favour of another, but I’m not an Archbishop. Being an Archbishop
is something of a vocation: you don’t pack up being an Archbishop and go and
do something else instead. You either retire, or drop dead in harness. It’s
odd that as someone who’s not been active in religion for nearly thirty years
I find that this story has actually rather wound me up. |
|
17 March 2012
(Saturday) - The Pink Bunkadoo
I had been asked to
help out at work on the night shifts last weekend. With major building work
planned I would be needed to help out because of the ensuing chaos. But with
only a few hours to go, the building work was cancelled, and I wasn't needed.
The building work was postponed to this weekend, and again I was asked to go
in for the night shifts this weekend. And again (with very little notice)
the building work was cancelled. I can't say that I
want to be up all night long for two nights running, but there's no denying
that the extra money would come in handy. And I'm now feeling rather messed
about. We had planned to
go to Hastings for a family gathering today for Mother's Day. The plan was
that we'd booked out a restaurant for a major gathering,but
at the last minute the restaurant told us that they were operating a "first
come first served" scheme. So, bearing in mind how long it takes us
to get going in the mornings, we would probably be driving for an hour just
to find that the place was full already. So we abandoned that plan. After some brekkie we set off to the Fudgery.
With the denizens of the Fudgery moving house, we'd
volunteered to fetch and carry, lift and shift, give orders and drink coffee.
I disassembled two beds, loaded the fragments onto the van (together with
some wardrobes), got chauffeured round to the new Fudgery,
unloaded, and then went back for sofas. We were told all manner of horror
stories about how difficult it would be to get the sofas out of the house: we
did it in less than five minutes. And with sofas delivered we went back for
the fridge, the electric cooker, the washing machine, the barbecue and the
garden slide before saying goodbye to Dave and his van. And as Dave drove off
with his van we remembered the garden swing and all the other stuff for which
we needed his van. Oh well,, such is life. I then reassembled
beds and wardrobes whilst "er
indoors TM" plumbed in the washing machine. It's still
leaking now. And having flooded out the kitchen, we left them to it and came
home for a spot of lunch. I would have stayed longer, but all the fetching
and carrying had been done. All that remained was the unpacking, and you
can't really do someone else's unpacking for them. Once lunched we
popped into town (despite the rain), and did what we had to do. Being
Saturday afternoon, on our way back we collected the catalogues I'd delivered
on Thursday. And then went home. I was glad to get home. Two days ago I'd had
a day off work. The weather was glorious. Today was cold, overcast and wet.
So we spent an hour or so watching stuff we'd recorded onto the Sky Plus box.
Whilst we did this I signed up with another writing website.
The idea is that people will pay me to write blog articles. I signed up with
another such website a week or so ago, and so far the generated demand for my
talents has remained constant (!). And then after a
little while spent messing on the laptop we set off for the Saturday film
night. First of all "In
Time"; an almost watchable cross between Robin Hood and Logan's
Run. And then a classic - "Time
Bandits". I've not seen that for years -it's brilliant. |
|
18 March 2012
(Sunday) - Angry Birds
Having come home
late after the film night last night we were slobbing
about watching telly when (at 1.30am) the door bell
rang. There was a small army of police on the door step, complete with police
vans. The lead copper looked me up and down and asked me if they were at the
wrong address. Did we have any Romanians about the place? And before I could
tell him that we didn't, all the coppers turned and wandered back to their
old-bill-mobile. With all the
excitement of having had the law visiting I was left wondering who or what
this Romanian had done to warrant so many coppers to come chasing him, and so
I'm blaming that for my restless night. I got up slightly
earlier than I might have on a Sunday and did the weekly weigh-in .I did the
weigh-in yesterday only to find my weight was unchanged over the week. I
thought I'd try again today, and still no change. I suppose that holding
constant is better than putting weight on, but there's no denying there is
still quite a bit of weight still to be shifted. I then got the
laptop going over a sot of brekkie.
Some on-line surveys, then I wasted an hour on the latest waste of time that
is sweeping the universe - "Angry Birds". Like most games it
is somewhere where you can lose hours, but I stayed there long enough to hand
her "er indoors TM"
her arse. Which was nice. "My Boy TM"
came visiting with a wodge of tulips for his mummy, and seeing it was Mothers Day we set off to Hastings to do the filial
thing. The mother-in-law was on holiday, but my mum was home, so we popped in
for a cuppa. We exchanged insults, and I tried on a suit. My Dad had found a
suit he hadn't worn for ages, and was wondering if I was now thin enough to
fit into it. I'm not quite thin enough yet. Then we went on to
visit my sister-in-law. We hadn't seen her since her wedding at New Year. We
keep saying we should meet up more often. We should do, but never seem to get
round to it. And so home via Tesco's (which I've never know
to have been so cold), and then we quickly went round the block
collecting catalogues and orders. Tea, and as "er indoors TM" set off
bowling I settled down to do some more job hunting. Or that was my intention.
I set the washing machine going and thought I'd spend just five minutes
playing "Angry Birds". Three hours later I was still
catapulting birds about... And then the reason
that telly was invested - "Upstairs Downstairs" - it gets
better and better... |
|
19 March 2012
(Monday) - The Olympic Flame
It was a clear night last night. Or so I
read on a friend’s Facebook status. I should really have taken my telescope
out and had a look at this and that. But I couldn’t be bothered. When you
think about it, astronomy is a rubbish hobby. You either can't see anything
because it's too cloudy, or you lose the enthusiasm to look at anything because
its too cold. And why shiver when the Hubble
telescope is in orbit taking better pictures than I could ever get? I expect the clear night accounts for the
thick ice that was over my car this morning. It wasn’t anything a bottle of
cold water couldn’t sort out, but it was a pain having to sort out the bottle
of cold water. Work was dull. I sat quietly for much of
the day whilst blokes far younger than me talked at length about their plans
for this year for their allotments. Allotments(!) I suppose if one
enjoys a hobby, then the enjoyment is merit enough for that hobby. But I for
one still can’t shake my life-long conviction that gardening is either an old
man’s hobby, or a necessary chore. There’s no pleasure to be had from it for
me. Talking of things with no pleasure in it
for me, I spent an hour this evening applying for various jobs. I must admit
that one of the most annoying adverts on telly at the moment is (for me)
the advert for reed.co.uk. Some hip young thing is singing about "Love
Mondays". I don't, and am rather jealous of friends of mine who seem
to do so. I hope something comes of all these job applications soon. I see that the route of the Olympic
flame has been published today. And I see that the flame is coming to
Ashford on Wednesday 18 July. And it’s not just coming to Ashford: it’s
coming right past my front door. I had half a plan to take the day off work
to watch the thing come past. Bearing in mind the chaos that ensued when the
Tour de France came past a couple of years ago I either need to have the day
off work or be on a twelve hour day on the day in question. I suspect all
traffic movement around the town will (again) be stopped for a whole
day for something which will be all over in half an hour. I mentioned this to "er indoors TM" who seemed
very enthusiastic about the whole idea, so we've decided to make a day of it.
If any of my loyal readers fancy taking the day off work for a once in a
lifetime event, why not come and shout "Woo Hoo"
from my front garden... and bring a bottle of beer and something for the barby as well.... |
|
20 March 2012
(Tuesday) - Chilli
Regular readers of this drivel must have
realised that there are several things about this life which boil my piss.
Today I’m going to rant about my duvet. Every night when I clamber into my pit I
arrange the duvet neatly and tidily over the bed. When it’s time to get up in
the morning I can’t actually get out of said pit. Instead I have to untangle
myself from the miles of duvet which have migrated in my direction overnight,
wrapped themselves around me, and have attempted to smother me. ‘er indoors TM has maybe six inches
of duvet cover, and I have several yards of the thing round my arms, up
the wall, over the floor - all in my way as I’m trying to get up. How
does it get there? Bring back blankets – you can’t go wrong with a blanket. To work (dull). Yesterday I
mentioned that I was planning to shout “Woo Hoo” as
the bearer of the Olympic torch will run past my house with the thing in a
few months’ time. So today I put in for the day off. It looks like quite a
few other people have had the same idea. Oh well – if I don’t get the leave I
might just have more reason to sulk about the job. And I don’t really need
any more of that. Yesterday I mentioned that I’d applied for
some jobs. Today one of the agencies rang back. They seemed very keen about
my chances with one of the positions I’d applied for. Here’s hoping. And a CV writing company phoned. They’d
offered a free appraisal of my C.V., so I’d sent it to them. They wittered on
down the phone for quite some time without actually saying anything; then
announced that their next step would cost me over three hundred quid. I told
them it wouldn’t, and hung up. And being Tuesday the clans gathered.
This time in Cheriton. We’d not been to Paul’s
before, and he did us proud. An excellent chilli, and we’d not laughed so
much in ages. Really must do it again…. |
|
21 March 2012
(Wednesday) - Guts Ache
Last night I had a wonderful time with
wonderful company. And there’s no denying that I ate and drank far too much.
When I came home my stomach was definitely suffering from overindulgence. And
it carried on rumbling and complaining most of the night. In retrospect I can
see my mistake. I had far too much of the rice, and washing it down with
three beers didn’t help. The beer made the rice swell up, and that was what
made it hurt so much. I came home last night and went straight to bed. I
didn’t even pause to write my blog last night. And that is quite unlike me
(!) As well as having a serious guts ache, I
woke this morning with such a hangover. One bottle of spitfire and two (small)
bottles of San Miguel, and I felt like death warmed up. Over the last few
months I’ve certainly suffered whenever I’ve had a drink. Perhaps I should
give it a miss from now on? I gradually became more human over a spot
of brekky, and having been inspired by Bob Ross I
set off to work. It was a foggy morning; I couldn’t see more than twenty
yards through the fog. And so many people were driving at break-neck speed
with no lights on their cars. Idiots! Today the chancellor of the exchequer
announced his budget plans for the next year. It seems he’s bashed the rich
to give to the poor. In this new era of austerity, I might (just possibly)
have benefited. I say *might* - I suspect I haven’t. It’s been my
experience that what the government give in a budget with one hand, they take
with the other. Any bung I might get from raising of tax thresholds will be
more than wiped out by the summer’s rise in fuel duty. But am I downhearted… Yesterday I mentioned that a C.V. writing
company had phoned me. Today another one did. I was expecting the worst, and
was about to tell them to get knotted when it suddenly became very clear that
the chap on the phone had actually read my C.V. He had a useful suggestion.
And another useful suggestion. He talked for about half an hour. He wasn’t
surprised that I’m not having much luck with my job applications because he
felt the C.V. I was submitting was rubbish. It turned out that my C.V. was little more
than my previous job descriptions. Anyone could have done that. What I should
be doing in a C.V. is saying about what skills I’ve got, and how I apply
them. I should say how I do what I do, not what I do. So I’ve done (yet
another) major C.V. re-write. Hopefully some of my loyal
readers might give it the once-over and offer their sage wisdom before I
try the new C.V. out in a day or so? And in closing, it's Smarden
duck race in a couple of week's time. If you're up
for it, let me
know... |
|
22 March 2012
(Thursday) - Last Will and Testament
I woke this morning to see a missed call on
my mobile. "Daddies Little Angel TM"
had called me at silly o'clock and I'd clearly slept through the call.
Suspecting the worst (why else would she phone at silly o'clock), but
suspecting her to be asleep at 5.40am, I sent a text message, and spent an
hour worrying. Eventually I got a text back apologising for the call. She'd
been randomly pressing buttons and had called me by mistake. To work (dull), and home again. I
met up with an old friend on the way home, and spent half an hour chatting
about this and that. And then I spent a few minutes delivering catalogues to
the masses. I do hope the masses want the bargains I'm unloading onto them. Eventually I got home to find that the most
recent fruit of my loin had visited today. All my moaning, nagging and
whinging about the dog biscuits has done some good as she's obviously swept
up errant bonios. Mind you the cereal bowls, cups
of tea and human biccies were still strewn
everywhere. The phone rang. It was some bloke from
Trust Inheritance. Had I thought about making a will? Yes I had. Would I be
wanting to make it soon? Yes - I should do. Why didn't I take advantage of
the special offer in which I could get a will drawn
up for only sixty-five quid? And then that's when it all got a little
nasty. I asked why I should pay up sixty-five quid when I was quite capable
of writing down my own instructions, or finding a will template for free on
the Internet. The answer I got was a lie. The bloke on the phone told me that
paying cash for his will made it a legally binding document. A home-made one
(apparently) wouldn't be legally binding. What rubbish. If you write a
will, then that's it. It's your will regardless of anything. And if anyone
wants to contest it, then they can contest it, regardless of how much wonga you might have paid for the will. So here's my will. If I croak first, "er indoors TM" gets the
lot. If "er indoors TM"
has already croaked when I kick the bucket, then all is shared equally
between the fruits of my loin. Seems quite straightforward to me... |
|
23 March 2012
(Friday) - A Lazy Day
A very late start
at work today gave me loads of time to fiddle about. I started with the (now
seemingly obligatory) hour of applying for jobs which I don't have a hope
of getting, and them I mowed he lawn. In the past
I've never done anything in the garden before Easter. This is the lawn's
second mowing and Easter is still two weeks away. I then tided up general mess (I knew him when he was a
corporal!), and then looked at the bike shelter. With the aid of "My
Boy TM" I built a shelter for the bikes a couple of yeas ago. Those years have been hard on the bike shelter
- it's collapsed. I've covered the bikes with some tarpaulin, and if any of
my loyal readers are feeling particularly good at handicraft, feel free to
give me a hand rebuilding the thing. "My Boy TM"
then had a flying visit. He was sniggering about the misfortunes of my grand-dog
Fudge. Being a dog of base instincts (and a rather handsome dog too),
Fudge had taken out to stud this morning. He seemed quite enthusiastic about
the idea, but when push came to shove (to coin a phrase), he couldn't
find the right (or any) hole. After half an hour the attempt was
abandoned. I did laugh. I doubt Fudge did though. Over a spot of
lunch my phone rang. An employment agency had seen my C.V. and thought I was
quite suited to one of the vacancies they had on their books. Did I have any
sales experience? I mentioned the commercial ventures outlined above on this
very blog, and the nice lady from the agency nearly tiddled
her knickers in excitement. And she went on to tell me that I really should
include them on my C.V. Which was completely at odds with the formal C.V.
advice I received earlier in the week when I was specifically advised *not*
to mention "Badger
Original Landscapes". This is the problem
with writing a C.V. - what one person feels is good, another hates. But the
nice lady has asked me to re-write my C.V. and email it to her for Monday
morning. I can do that. At 2pm I went to
bed; hoping to sleep for a few hours. I lay awake. Wide awake. At 3.30pm I
gave up and got up again. I expect later when I want t
be awake I shall be nodding off. If only we had switches and timers so sleep
wasn't such a vague quantity. And so, at 7pm, to
work. Two weeks ago I was offered two nights overtime at the weekend because
of the chaos which would ensue because of building works at work. Half way
through the preceding Friday the building works were postponed for a week. And so last weekend
I was offered two nights overtime because of the chaos which would ensue
because of building works at work. And again half way through last Friday the
building works were again postponed. In theory the
building works are to take place tonight and tomorrow night. Will they
actually go ahead this time? I've had no phone calls to say that they won't.
Let's hope they are going ahead. Because I shall be claiming for a night's
overtime whatever happens... |
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24 March 2012
(Saturday) - Viccy Park =
Last night I'd volunteered to do the night
shift because of the mayhem that would follow because of the building works
that were scheduled to take place at work last night. I suspected the worst
as I arrived at the hospital grounds: as I drove in, so the builder's van
drove out. I went in to find not a builder in sight. Fortunately the boss had
given me other jobs to do overnight as well as generally chipping in where I
could. Unfortunately I finished the jobs she'd given me within a couple of
hours. I was rather miffed. Having been messed about for the two previous
weekends and having trashed my plans for this weekend, there was no way I was
going to come home and give up the overtime. So (being an industrious soul) I
found some other jobs that needed doing, and kept myself busy all night long.
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25 March 2012
(Sunday) - Folkestone Warren
Went to work last night, did the night
shift. It wasn't exciting. Mind you I did regular night shifts for twenty
years and they never were exciting. Best described then as hours of boredom
interspersed by moments of panic, in the intervening years it would seem that
nothing has changed. I've always said that I don't mind night work. I don't,
but I really have to qualify that statement. I don't mind the actual night
work itself, but I hate spending the day before the night shift sulking at
the thought of having to do the night shift. It's never anywhere near as bad
as I expect it to be; I just resent the fact the I have work to look forward
to. I'd rather get up each morning and go straight to work. I've since been told that we walked about
five miles today; I think that's a fair estimate. It was really good to get
out and about: I must start doing it a lot more now that spring is here.
There's another walk planned for next weekend, and a bike ride in the not too
distant future. If any of my loyal readers would like to come along, please
drop me a line. |
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26 March 2012
(Monday) - Stuff
Regular readers of this drivel must get fed
up with reading about my nocturnal habits. But last night was a novel break
with tradition. I went to bed about 11pm, and slept for eight hours. Eight
whole hours: it must be years since that last happened. In retrospect I
suppose that only having had less than eight hours sleep from Thursday
evening to Sunday evening must have had some bearing on the subject. Being on
a late start this morning I lay dozing, and finally emerged from my pit when
one of the employment agencies rang me about a possible opening.
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March 27 2011
(Tuesday) – Chilham
Another good night's sleep, which was a
good start to a mini-holiday. I have the last of my annual leave to use up.
In retrospect, given the choice I wouldn't have worked last weekend and I
wouldn't have worked yesterday. But I wasn't given the choice.
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28 March 2011
(Wednesday) - More Stuff
After a spot of brekkie
I went off to see a counsellor. Bearing in mind all the unpleasantness of the
last year, my new boss felt that seeing a counsellor might help me. Not
wishing to appear negative I thought I'd give it a go. I made a mistake at work last year for
which I was demoted. I've since been moved to a job twenty miles away at half
the wages I was on; having to say "Yes Sir" to people half
my age that I once trained. The fact that the mistake I made was something
I'd predicted and had made plans to avoid was deemed to be irrelevant. as was
the two-inch thick defence document I produced, and the signed testimonies
from many of my colleagues testifying to my competence and ability. A
formal hearing decided against me.
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29 March 2012
(Thursday) - A Birthday
Despite being on holiday, I was up rather
earlier than I would have liked today: it was the car’s MOT & service,
and so I had the car round to D & D autos and I was back home and playing
“Angry Birds” before 8.15am. I wasted a few minutes with “Angry Birds” before
setting out again: this time to the dentist. Regular readers of this drivel
may recall that a few weeks ago I gave up half a day’s leave to go to the
dentist because I chipped a tooth. At the time the dentist seemed rather
disinterested, and said there was no cause for concern. Today he took loads
of photographs of the damaged fang, and told me I needed to make appointments
to get the fang fixed. Why couldn’t he have done that a few weeks ago?
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30 March 2012
(Friday) - Another Birthday
Have I ever mentioned that I dabble in
oils? I've been watching Bob Ross on telly for years, and about ten years ago
a colleague told me about art classes in the Bob Ross style. The first Bob
Ross style painting I ever did was of some trees in a field with a footpath
and some mountains in the background. That painting still hangs in my
mother's hallway. It's not particularly good; at the time I thought I could
do better and since then (without wishing to sound conceited) I have.
Since then I've painted all sorts of scenes and landscapes; but I still like
the simple concept of that first painting, and from time to time I've gone
back to it and tried to do it again. Today I returned to the theme for the
fourth time. I quite like the red sky and the mountain - a mountain without
snow isn't something I've tried before. The trees are OK - for all that I
tried to keep them simple, they could be better. And the painting has a fence
in it. Just lately I seem to like fences in my paintings. I'm quite pleased with the finished result.
And (like all the paintings I do) it's available to buy....
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31 March 2012
(Saturday) - Tintin
There's no denying that by the I'd sorted
out the money from last night's astro club meeting
it was rather late - by the time I crawled into my pit it was gone 1am. I was
pleasantly surprised to find that (again) I slept though till 7am. I
had a tiddle, thought I'd go back to bed for a few
more minutes, and woke up at 10.30am.
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