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1 November 2019
(Friday) - At the Eye Clinic
Being the first of
the month we did the dogs’ flea treatments this morning. Fudge and Pogo were as
good as gold and sat still for it; Treacle ran in terror and hid. The flea
treatment involves having a few drops of stuff put on the back of the neck.
It smells a bit odd, and Treacle really doesn’t like it. Silly girl. As I looked at
Facebook there was a lot of crowing from the anti-Brexit brigade because
Brexit didn’t happen yesterday, and the forecast riots didn’t happen. Mind
you I must admit to being rather sceptical about the latest Brexit deferment.
For all that the UK has three months to sort it out, nothing is going to
happen. With a general election in the offing, there will be six weeks of
election talk which will form what will in all likelihood be a hung
parliament, and in three months time the nation will be back where it has
been for some time; supposedly wanting to leave the EU with no plan for doing
so. "er indoors TM" drove me to
the local hospital where I had a couple of appointments for my iffy vision. I
took my place in Clinic C and waited patiently whilst the family from hell
raged around me. Mother was swearing into her phone whilst her two children
ran round the waiting area shrieking. Periodically one or other brat would
run up brandishing a surgical glove or a plastic syringe or whatever they had
pilfered from one of the consulting rooms. Looking back I’m not sure what was
worse; the brattish behaviour or the mother’s utter indifference. I was called in (five minutes early)
to see the orthoptist. I explained that I’d had double vision, that I thought
it was probably caused by the ill-fitting new glasses which had now been
rectified. The nice lady had me look at things as she covered my eyes in
turn, and then had me watch as she waved a torch here, there and thither. She
then waxed lyrically about my amblyopia; a condition
that I knew I had some twenty years before she was born. The orthoptist
then sent me on to my next appointment which was half-way across the
hospital. Not in the same clinic as I’d been told it would be. I found where
I was supposed to go, and with nothing else to do I watched the rugby world
cup on the big telly. It was rather
dull. I know a lot of
people get really excited about rugby; I wish I could see the attraction.
After fifteen minutes I think I’d seen it all. I was called in an
hour after the time I was told that my appointment would be. I sat down and
again explained why I was there. The nice man then started doing pretty much
exactly what the nice lady had done a couple of hours earlier. After five minutes
he looked at his computer screen for the first time, looked again, and asked
if I’d already seem an orthoptist this morning. He then put some
drops in my eyes to dilate the pupils, and sent me to go and wait some more. After fifteen
minutes a consultant eye-doctor turned up, and apologetically asked if I
wouldn’t mind walking with him to a consulting room some distance away (as
everywhere closer was in use). For a third time I explained what I
thought had been wrong with my eyes. The nice consultant shone a light into
my eyes and had a good look. He then looked at me oddly, and exclaimed that
my ears weren’t level. His opinion was
that I was right. I’d had double vision because of ill-fitting glasses
causing eye strain, and now that the glasses are (supposedly) right,
my eyes should slowly be going back to how they should be. He wants me to go
back in a while once my eye muscles have recovered. Because of the eye
drops and dilated pupils I couldn’t see to drive, so "My Boy TM"
collected me, and took me for McLunch. I then walked the dogs round the park. It was
a wet afternoon; I would rather not have gone out, but the dogs (Fudge in
particular) insisted. As we walked we met Ralph the pug, but no other
dogs. No one else was daft enough to get wet. We came home; I
watched the first episode of “Power”. I’m
not sure I like it, but "My Boy TM" says to stick with
it. I then played Lego for a while whilst video-calling on Facebook messenger
with "Daddy’s Little Angel TM". "My Boy TM" and
Cheryl came round for dinner, then went off out to watch fireworks with "er
indoors TM". I stayed home to look after the dogs. I
didn’t want them home alone whilst fireworks might be going off. As I dog-sat I arranged the family
pre-Christmas get together. We’d planned to have a meal at a pub in
Brookland. I phoned the pub; they didn’t take bookings; we should just turn
up. I said there would a dozen of us. They said we should just turn up, and
they might be able to seat us all, or they might not. I said I would take my
money to someone who actually wanted it, and the woman at the other end of
the phone had no idea what my problem was. I phoned the Queens Head in Icklesham who
were more than happy for us to have a table for twelve. "er indoors TM" came home from
bowling with a McFlurry. Result !! |
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2 November 2019
(Saturday) - A Nomination and a Muddy Walk
As I looked at
Facebook over brekkie it reminded me that three years ago today I went to
Tunbridge Wells for a job interview. I think that taking that job was perhaps
one of the better decisions I’ve ever made. I also had a
message that I’ve been nominated to be on the committee of the Geocaching
Association of Great Britain.
I suppose they might well be a worthwhile bunch… I must admit I’m rather
sceptical about them. I’ve only ever heard anything from them when someone
from hundreds of miles away appears on the local Facebook page trying to get
votes. Do I want to be on the committee? I’ve been on endless committees
before; they are an ideal way to of avoiding making a decision by causing an
argument. And living in Kent
is hardly an ideal location for being on a national committee. I posted on
their forum (on which I was nominated) asking exactly what would be
involved. As the day went on I got some wordy messages, but not one which
actually said what they actually do. We got the leads
on to the dogs, and I drove us all down to Orlestone Woods. Not having driven
for a week and having had iffy eyes I was a little daunted at the prospect,
but all went well. What I say “all
went well” that was with the drive. To be fair the
walk went well. Very well. As is often the case in Orlestone Woods we didn’t
meet anyone else. We had the place to ourselves, and the dogs had a great
time. However when we were half-way round, the forecast rain hit. We got
rather wet, and the dogs came home plastered in mud. Mind you, if nothing
else it is a vindication of my entire “Boot Dogs” philosophy. The mess
was contained in the boot. We came home, and
whilst "er indoors TM" conducted canine scrubbing, I
nipped up the shop for almond croissants. I scoffed my
croissant with a cup of coffee whilst poring over two geo-puzzles that
appeared on the map where (weather permitting) we are hoping to go for
a walk tomorrow. After a couple of hours of brain strain (and one or two
hints from the chap who set the puzzles) I worked out that the final
location of neither puzzle cache is actually anywhere near where we are
hoping to be going. "er indoors TM" drove over to
Margate to visit "Daddy’s Little Angel TM". I
stayed at home with the dogs. I watched a few episodes of “Power”, then
spent a little while researching the Geocaching Association of Great Britain.
A lot of people seem to think it’s a good thing, but no one can explain what
they actually do. I fed the dogs, programmed “Hannah”
for tomorrow, and watched some “Come Dine with Me” whilst the dogs
barked at the fireworks. "er indoors TM" will be home
soon. I wonder what’s for dinner? |
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3 November 2019
(Sunday) - Willows and Hawks
Over brekkie I
peered into the Internet. Pretty much nothing at all had happened on
Facebook; I blame the awful weather we had yesterday. I had a email
reply from some chap on the committee of the Geocaching Association of Great
Britain. He was keen that I stood for their committee, but also suggested
that rather than being on their committee, I might consider being a “friend”.
I’ve agreed to that to see if I can find out more of what goes on with the
GAGB. At the moment no-one seems to be able to tell me how they are different
from any other caching group. And then my piss
boiled when I read a “did not find” log on one of my geocaches. The
log was dated a couple of days ago. Ironically dated the day before I saw it
when I walked past it with the dogs. When people write
their logs to say they didn’t find a film pot which had been stuffed under a
rock they really should say “I didn’t find it”. Saying “it wasn’t
there” when clearly it was just wastes my time going out to check (luckily
I didn’t have to this time), and can deter others from going looking for
it. We loaded
ourselves and our gear and our luggage into the car and set off. Our first
port of call was the co op where I wanted to use their cash machine. The car
park at the co op winds me up. With space for thirty cars, no one parking
there seems to realise there is up to thirty more cars there. Everyone drives
as though they are the only person in the car park, and consequently you take
your life in your hands as you go through the place. As we drove up the
motorway I had the munzee app open. People have put virtual munzees along the
length of the motorway, and so I munz-ed all the way up to when we turned off
at the M26. It wasn’t long
before we were at the designated parking spot for today’s walk. Karl, Tracey
and Charlotte had beaten us there by a couple of minutes. And just as we were
about to set off, the chap who’d hidden the caches pulled up to say hello. We had a rather
good walk. Bearing in mind my eye problems of the last week, it was good to
be able to go out. We started off seeing a sight – what we were told was one
of the biggest ant hills in the country. It was *huge*. Treacle carried
logs twice her size and climbed trees. Fudge disgraced himself by charging
off after pheasants and rolling in fox poo. Pogo was remarkably well-behaved
around the other dogs we met, but we did laugh when he tried to walk over a
water trough and fell in. I laughed until I realised that the water trough
wasn’t one in use, and was filled with stagnant slop. Then I realised why
everyone else was laughing. Poor Pogo. After a couple of
hours we were back at the cars. We had a spot of lunch, then walked on.
Bearing in mind that if we stopped for a pint we’d probably never start
again, we walked past the pub into Apps Hollow where we had another rather
good walk. Mind you I must admit that I was amazed to find an old armchair in
the woods. Someone had taken the trouble to carry an old armchair half a mile
into the woods. Surely it is easier to take it to the tip? The second half of
our walk was a tad hillier than the first, and there were quite a few
pheasants (which wound Fudge up no end). Half-way round the rain
started. Yesterday the rain had been torrential. We were amazed at how
non-muddy today’s walk had been, and how glorious the weather was in the
morning. But as the day wore on so the blue sky gave way to grey. I checked
the weather forecast. Where this morning we’d had promises of a dry day, we
now had predictions of a wet afternoon. Weather forecasts
are one of many things which annoy me. To be fair to them, a year or so the
BBC’s weather forecast app on my phone was (usually) reliable.
Nowadays the thing is basically pot-luck and whoever controls the app just
changes what the short-term prediction is to fit with what the weather is
actually doing. The plan had been
to sit in the pub’s beer garden for a pint or two after we’d walked. But the
rain was getting heavier, and the pub looked to be a tad posh. Too posh for
us to sit inside caked in mud and dripping wet. So we pushed on to the cars
where we said our goodbyes and made our way home. I took a few photos whilst we’d walked. I munz-ed rather
productively on the drive home. I’d set off this morning as a level
thirty-eight munzer and came home as level fifty-two. Once home I got
out the rake and cleared up the sycamore leaves that were covering the lawn
and filling the pond. There is a sycamore tree three doors down the road
which is probably about twenty metres higher than any tree should be in a
residential area. I filled a dustbin with the fallen leaves, then went and
had a whinge at the people who live three doors down. They didn’t seem overly
fussed until I pointed out that according to law I’m supposed to return to
them anything which falls from the tree, so would they like me to dump a
dustbin full of leaves in their front garden. I doubt the whinge will achieve
anything; I remember our slightly insane next door neighbour having a go at
them about their tree some years ago when the tree was quite a bit shorter. "er indoors TM" boiled up a rather
good bit of dinner, then set off bowling. I watched more episodes of “Power”;
I hope our heroes get arrested and go to prison for a *long* time. The
more I watch the show the more convinced I become that leading a law-abiding
decent life is a mug’s game… |
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4 November 2019
(Monday) - Poggered Lawnmower
As I had my morning root around Facebook I
saw that a family member was again posting pro-Brexit memes. This morning’s
one was banging on about how Britain and the Commonweath had won the Second
World War and liberated Europe from the Nazis, and so the EU should shut its
rattle. Isn’t there some logical fallacy here? Since
the UK defeated part of Europe in a military action seventy-five years ago it
should not be part of the European Union? By the same token since the UK
obtained much of the Commonwealth by military action should it not have
anything to do with the Commonwealth either? And what about the role of all
the free French and Free Polish fighters in all this? And what about all those who died in the
battles between the various kingdoms in ancient Briton? Isn’t having a “United
Kingdom” offensive to their memory? Or perhaps the world has moved on, and the
sooner that the jingoistic hoards realise that Britannia hasn’t ruled the waves
for over seventy years, the better? I took the dogs out. With rain forecast later
(!) I drove them down to Orlestone Woods where we had a rather good
little walk. We only met one other person. Mind you her three dogs were
rather large and boisterous; both Pogo and Treacle ran in terror. Treacle
screamed as she ran. There was no reason for her to have screamed in terror
as she did; the nice lady with the other dogs was rather upset by it, and I
had to reassure her that her dogs had done no wrong. Pogo’s reaction to the other dogs was
interesting. Having seen his sister was nowhere near them, he ran away. But
when Fudge (straggling miles behind as always) met up with the other
dogs he marched up to them as he does. It was then that Pogo started barking.
Perhaps he just shouts at other dogs to protect his own pack? As we walked through the woods on our own I
could hear something huge crashing about in the undergrowth. Deer? Wild boar?
I’ve no idea, but other walkers there have told me they’ve also heard big
things crashing about in those woods. We came home; the dogs had a bath. I put the
dogs’ towels in to scrub, I ran round with the Hoover (my Hoover I made by
the Dyson corporation), I filled the car with rubbish then went to the
tip. On the way I collected "My Boy TM" and some
of his tip-rubbish. He had a door to take to the tip, and had sawn it into
two halves so it would fit in the car. I did wonder how he’d managed to have
a door to throw away, but I’ve found it best not to ask in situations like this.
It was as we loaded up his stuff for the tip
that the rain started. With tip rubbish tipped I went round to
B&Q. the bedroom lights have blown and we needed replacements. Have you
seen the price of light bulbs recently? The ones I needed were five quid
each. Each!! I came home via the corner shop where I got
some lunch. As a special treat I bought myself a tin of cherry and vanilla
flavoured Doctor Pepper. The stuff was “limited edition”, cost one
pound fifty, and wasn’t all that at all. I hung out washing, I put more washing in, I
scoffed lunch and fell asleep in front of the telly until "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" phoned. I hung out more
washing, and seeing how the rain had stopped I went into the garden for a
bit. I harvested quite a lot of dog dung, raked up loads of leaves, and then
got the lawnmower out. Seeing it is a week since the lawn was last mowed, and
it will be a week before I get another chance I thought that now would be the
ideal time to scalp it. Things went
swimmingly until smoke came out of the lawnmower. Faced with a
lawnmower about to burst into flames I did what any sensible person would do.
I put the news onto Facebook. Needless to say it generated quite a bit of
hilarity. I now have to get
a new lawnmower, and have to dispose of the carcass of the old one.
Ironically I was in B&Q and at the tip this morning. But with the lawn
actually mowed (I got the job done before the smoke got *too* thick)
I’ve got a week to chivvy up a replacement. Can any of my
loyal readers recommend a decent lawnmower? The one which has just gone west
was a Flymo Hover Vac 280; having bought the thing on 29 August 2017 (keeping
a diary is a useful thing!) it only lasted a couple of years. But in
Flymo’s defence my previous lawnmower was the model down from what just went
pop, and it lasted about eight years (I got that one on 5 April 2009). Bearing in mind
that having spent out on new specs (which will probably need to be
replaced!), car issues and Fudge’s vet bill, shelling out for a new lawn
mower is a “pain in the glass” (to quote "Stormageddon -
Bringer of Destruction TM" ). So I phoned the pet insurance
people to chivvy up the insurance claim. Having had them send the paperwork
back once I wanted to be sure there were no more problems with my claim. The
nice man at the pet insurance company told me that they’d sent the claim back
to the vets for more information. The initial symptoms with which Fudge
presented were rather vague. They wanted more than “weight loss”. I
politely pointed out that a dog is unable to explain the feelings and signs
of renal failure that a human would be able to do so, and the nice man was
forced to agree. He assured me that a payment of the fat end of five hundred
quid would be in my bank account soon. Good. I could do with that. "er indoors TM" came home,
boiled up dinner and went bowling. I’ve put on a film. “The King”
features the early part of the reign of King Henry V. According to Wikipedia
it is based on a lot of the plays of William Shakespeare. So far it is rather turgid… |
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5 November 2019
(Tuesday) - Bonfire Night
Finding myself
wide awake far earlier than I needed to be I watched the end of “The King”. I’d started watching it last night and eventually
turned it off about two-thirds of the way through. Like most “blockbuster”
films, it went on for about an hour longer than it might have done. Mind you
it made me think. Set six hundred years ago and based on true events,
politicians of the time conspired to unite England by fabricating lies about
a possible attack from the French. And now history
repeats itself. I then had my
morning peer into the Internet. It would seem my brother-in-law’s Facebook
account has been hacked as he’d (apparently) sent me a video
advertising some diet or other. Other than that, not a lot had happened
overnight really. And with no emails worth having I spent a little while
looking at lawnmowers on the B&Q website. I typed in “lawnmowers”,
told it to sort from cheapest to most expensive, and all sorts of irrelevant
nonsense came up. Strimmer blades, tins of oil… with one hundred and fourteen
items found, the first actual lawnmower came in as the one hundred and third
suggestion. Interestingly B&Q are still selling the same make of
lawnmower that blew up yesterday; now some ten quid cheaper than what I paid
for it in August 2017. The blurb on the web page says the thing comes with a
two-year manufacturer guarantee. I suppose it lasted just over two years, so
I’ve no cause to grumble. There was a minor
disaster as I got dressed; the new light bulbs took no notice of the dimmer
switch and lit up at full power regardless of how much I twiddled the knob.
So I just pulled the duvet over "er indoors TM" 's head and
hoped for the best. I drove to the
early shift through a dark and dismal morning. Once I'd negotiated the road
closures I was soon on the motorway and listening to the radio. Apparently
lots of children are re-sitting their maths exams (GCSE?) today.
One of the questions was "Anne is buying a car costing £1400. On top
of this, tax is to be paid at 20%. Anne pays a deposit of £500, and
pays the rest in ten equal payments. How much is each payment?” Is this *really*
the level of question for a school leaver? Really? I can remember answering
this sort of thing at primary school. There was then
loads of political talk. With so much of importance facing the country,
Parliament wasted all of yesterday electing a new Speaker. Surely that could
have been done in a five-minute on-line ballot? I got to work; I
did my bit. And with my bit done I came home again. I eventually found a
parking space. Once home I stood in the front garden and started at Treacle
who was on the back of the sofa. I had thought she was on guard; she was
actually fast asleep. I eventually got bored waiting for a reaction, and just
had time to walk the dogs round the block before it got dark. As we walked we
heard one firework explosion. The plan for the evening had been to go down to
Hythe for a family firework extravaganza, but I didn’t want to leave the dogs
alone with fireworks going off. As it happened
there weren’t *that* many fireworks going off this evening (which
was probably for the best). Part of me wonders if fireworks have priced
themselves beyond the budget of most people, and part of me wonders if
they’ve been superceded by the craze of Hallowe’en. When was the last
time you saw children doing “Penny For The Guy?” |
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6 November 2019 (Wednesday)
- Before the Late Shift
As I scoffed
brekkie I saw that a friend was posting on Facebook about the imminent advent
of nuclear fusion power stations. Apparently it is thought that nuclear
fusion will be a viable power source within twenty years. Clean cheap energy… it is a shame that
nuclear fusion has always been about twenty years away for as long as I can
remember. It was even more
of a shame that other people on Facebook were confusing it with nuclear
fission (which is a very dangerous and dirty way to make electricity). Other than that,
not a lot else was happening on Facebook this morning. I checked my
emails. The government had responded to a petition to restrict the sale of
fireworks to organised events. Apparently they see no need to do this as they
believe that “the majority of people who use fireworks do so appropriately
and have a sensible and responsible attitude towards them”. Really? I took the dogs
for a quick circuit of the park. The walk went well; Pogo only shouted at one
other dog. A shame it was OrangeHead’s dog, but there it is. With walk done I
set the dishwasher going, took laundry off of the clothes horse and
radiators, harvested the crop of dog turds that had ripened in the garden,
and spent half an hour writing up CPD. With the dogs
settled I set off in the vague direction of work. I drove round to B&Q
first. Have you ever been to the car park of the Ashford branch of B&Q?
Something odd is going on there. The shop doesn't have that many people working
there. There is never that many customers. And the car park is always full.
There are probably four times more cars than you could realisticallly account
for. Are people parking
there and walking up to the train station? It's quite a walk. I went in; I found
a cheap(ish) lawnmower. And bearing in mind how much condensation there is in
my car I asked the nice lady if they had dehumidifiers. The nice lady had no
idea what I was talking about, and looked at me as though I was the stupid
one. When it became clear I wasn't going away, she eventually suggested I
went and asked the nice man who was standing at the other end of the store. I
went and asked him. He gave me an odd look; when I told him that he nice lady
had told me to ask him, he said a rude word, and suggested I might follow
him. We walked past the nice lady where he said another rude word, and
eventually I got my dehumidifier. Just as I was
setting it up in the car "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
rang. She seemed amazed that I should be in B&Q's car park. I drove on up the
motorway to Notcutts garden centre. My gaiters had developed holes since I'd
last worn them and so I thought I might get new ones. The nice man at the
shop asked if I wanted one of their loyalty cards. Quite frankly I didn't
want yet another card, but when he said that if I took it, he'd knock a fiver
off the price I felt I couldn't say no. I then tried to
get back to the car park. Have you ever been
to Notcutts garden centre? It is the sort of place about which I get
nightmares. It is a maze which seemingly has no exit, and is filled with
swarms of people blindly bumbling about; not a single one of them looking
where they are going. And it was heaving with Christmas decorations too.
I considered getting a singing reindeer's head, but it cost about thirty quid
more than I was prepared to spend on it. When I eventually
got out I thought I might try for the two munzees in the car park. Both were
there; neither worked. Both had faded over the years and both needed repair. I went on to work
where the car park was rather busy. But once I'd eventually parked I made my
way to the works canteen. Pie and chips went down well. Much of the
afternoon was spent in a state of sulk. Apparently the Queen was visiting
somewhere or something locally and had driven past, and we'd all missed it.
We'd have welcomed the chance to have skived off for five minutes to go cheer
at her cavalcade. The late shift was
busy; very busy… |
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7 November 2019
(Thursday) - Another Late Shift
I slept reasonably
well, but was woken by the rain in the night. I got up, and saw Fudge was
still sulking at me. He had the hump with me last night; I have no idea what
I’ve done to offend, but that dog does sulk rather impressively. As I scoffed toast
I peered into the Internet. For once the thing wasn’t awash with adverts from
people trying to sell that which they would otherwise take to the tip.
Instead it was crawling with political posts… I say “political”. The
trouble with British politics (and a lot of politics worldwide I suspect)
is that for years power has been shared between well-established political
parties, and many people have identified themselves as supporters of that
party. Purely because they have always voted for “X”, with no real
understanding of why they have done so. In much the same inexplicable way
that one randomly chooses to give life-long devotion to a football team. Many of the posts
I read his morning were along the lines of “don’t vote for X because that
would be a stupid thing to do” with absolutely no justification of why.
Just because someone thinks a certain political party is brilliant doesn’t actually
make it so (I wish more people would realise that). And quite a few
posts were pointing out the personal failings of politicians of one colour,
whilst totally ignoring that politicians of all colours have exactly the same
failings. I checked my
emails. LinkedIn had thanked me for being an active member. I chuckled at
that. My “activity” with LinkedIn mostly consists of deleting their
emails unopened. If I’m an “active” member, I wonder how little
everyone else does with that site. I took the dogs
out for a walk. As we walked Pogo found a tennis ball and was happily playing
a game with it. He would let it roll, then chase it, and then set it off
again. He was playing this quite happily for five minutes until Treacle
pounced and stole the ball. She then carried it for the rest of the walk
despite Pogo’s wanting it back. As we walked we
met other dogs. All three dogs played with some and barked at others. We had to take a little
diversion at the Chinese garden as the overnight rain had caused floods. That
area regularly floods. It was a shame that dogs don’t see a flood as an
obstacle, and all quite happily marched chest-deep into the water. We came home. I
set the washing machine going, then went out to feed the pond fish. That’s
usually good for a barking session from the dogs. For some inexplicable
reason the pond is clear all the way to the bottom. I then wrote up some more
CPD, With the dogs
settled I set off in the vague direction of work. I drove up the
motorway, as I went I was tail-ended by a succession of
foreign lorries, none of whom seemed to have much interest in the speed
limit. I turned off at
the Leeds castle junction thinking I might have a geo-adventure. The geocache
I couldn't find a couple of months ago was still missing, but I did find
another that wasn't a million miles away from it. And with geocache located
and happy dance danced I went on to Sainsburys. I needed petrol. That stuff
has got cheaper recently. I then went in to
the main Sainsbury's store. The nice poppy ladies from the British
Legion were selling poppies and all sorts of other poppy-related
stuff. I've wanted a metal poppy badge for some time, so I asked if they
had any. The first nice poppy lady barked at me that they
had. She announced that the things were two pounds each. She
then (rather rudely) snapped at me that they didn't
give change and said that if I was unwilling to give her a twenty quid note I
should go get some change myself and come back when I had some. If
it had been for anything else I would have taken my money elsewhere, but
bearing in mind that it is (probably) bad form to tell the poppy
ladies to get knotted, I went off into Sainsburys and got some
stuff I really didn't want or need. When I came back to the poppy stall
another nice poppy lady told me that nothing had any price; I
should just give a donation and take what I wanted. I told her that her mate
had told me that the metal badges were two quid each. This prompted the first
nice poppy lady to come over and shout the price list at
the second nice poppy lady. Her mate then
shouted back that nothing was priced; it was all donations according to what
the punters wanted to give. I got my metal
badge and left as the nice poppy ladies started having a rather
heated argument. I then wasted
fifteen minutes in the traffic queues trying to get out of the car park. I got to work; I
filled up on broccoli cheese and did that which I couldn't avoid. "Daddy’s
Little Angel TM" phoned; apparently she had
been going to church but had found the place was locked. I did wonder
what she was going to church for. I can remember her brother getting religion
some twenty years ago. It lasted for a day or so until he got chucked out of
the church youth club. I can't see her getting religion somehow, but I
suppose that she is bearing in mind the thirty-third Rule of Acquisition (It
never hurts to suck up to the boss) I spent much
of the day thinking about Georgia Toffolo… but not in the way that the more beastly
element might. She was on telly when I got home last night (in some
celebrity babysitter show). She is on telly quite a bit these days. Last
night (on the TV show) she said she was a “social media influencer”.
There’s a totally meaningless phrase. Like no end of people before her she
would seem to be famous for being famous. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not
knocking her. But she’s been on telly for quite a few years now. Most people
of her age who are going in to my line of work are only just qualifying or
still studying. It boils my piss that you probably lead a far more lucrative
lifestyle being a “social media influencer” than you ever would doing
what I do. |
|
8 November 2019
(Friday) - Bit Dull
With no alarm set
I usually sleep well. With an alarm set I was wide awake long before it was
due to go off. I gave up trying to sleep, and over an early brekkie I watched
the first episode of the new season of “The End of
the Fxxxing World”, which was rather good. I then sparked up
my lap-top (as I do) to see what had happened in the world overnight.
I hadn’t missed much, but B&Q had sent me a voucher. I get a fiver of the
next thing I buy from them which costs over fifty quid. Such a shame they
couldn’t have sent it a couple of days ago. I’m tempted to take that
lawnmower back, and then use the voucher on buying another one. Leaving "er
indoors TM" and the dogs fast asleep I set off to work. I had
a vague idea to take a rather significant detour via Coxheath to chase some
First to Finds (it’s a geo-thing) but I came out to find it was
officially winter. My car was iced up. By the time I’d scraped the ice off
and got stuck in the diversions round Ashford I’d run out of time for any
geo-nonsense, so I headed up the motorway to Maidstone. As I drove the pundits on the radio were
talking about the government’s immigration policy. With (apparently)
one NHS worker in eight being an immigrant, the racial hatreds which have
been stirred up by Brexit haven’t really helped those who like the idea of
actually having a national health service. There was all sorts of talk and
suggestions about how immigrant workers might be attracted to come to the
NHS… Amazingly no one had even speculated on the possibility of improving the
British education system so that we aren’t reliant on importing brains. There was also talk of the Conservative and
Labour parties pre-election promises. The ex-chief civil servant was wheeled
on. Apparently there is talk among politicians of changing the law. A few
years ago the law was changed so that the funding of proposed government
expenses had to be explained. Governments and governments-in-waiting aren’t
allowed to promise the moon on a stick when they don’t actually have a pot to
piss in. This is something of a stumbling block to those (of all parties)
who want to promise the moon on a stick so that they can get elected. I got to work; the
day wasn’t as busy as it might have been. I came home a tad
earlier than usual. I walked the dogs round a very wet co-op field. With "er
indoors TM" off to Margate I binge-watched all the rest of “The
End of the Fxxxing World” whilst doing the ironing. Just as I’m ready
for bed so the dogs have woken up and want to play… |
|
9 November 2019
(Saturday) - Green Eggs...
I could have slept
better I suppose. I could have coped with Pogo stomping round the bed in the
small hours; it was Treacle snarling at him that was the most disturbing. And
then when they both finally settled, Fudge’s snoring was a tad loud. Eventually I
nodded off and for once slept through until the alarm went off. I made some
toast which I ate on my own. All the dogs were asleep. I expect they were
tired. I hosed out my
sinuses (yuk!), made some toast and had a look at the Internet.
Facebook seemed to be heaving with comments about a Mega-geo-meet
in Belgium next year.
Those Mega-meets can be good fun. Such a shame that they are so few and far
between. There’s one in Sussex next August, and it looks like there are plans for
one only twenty miles from home for Christmas next year. Bearing in mind
these events are (for many people) a week-long camping event, I’m
intrigued to see how this one pans out. And friends who
have been posting Labour party propaganda for the last few weeks were today
singing the praises of the Green party on Facebook. What was that all about? I had a few
emails. B&Q had sent me another money-off voucher. I can get a tenner off
of any purchase I make of over a hundred quid. At the moment I don’t intend
spending a hundred quid with them, but you never know. It’s a shame that this
voucher is only good for a couple of months. If any of my loyal
readers intend buying anything expensive from B&Q any time soon, let me
know, eh. With "er
indoors TM" away I had to organise the dogs this morning.
Fudge and Treacle refused to eat their brekkie. Needless to say Pogo wanted
to scoff the lot. Eventually I wrangled the dogs and myself together and we
set off to… I won’t say where we went. Karl and Tracey were preparing a new series
of geocaches. The last time they did this someone got wind of what was
happening, and went out and hunted the lot out before they went live, did the
secret geo-rituals four days too early, and caused all sorts of upset. So I’m
keeping quiet on that score. We all met up, and soon were off on a walk.
The morning was glorious bearing in mind that I’d left Ashford in thick fog.
The first part of our walk was rather muddy; there is a reason why horses
aren’t supposed to walk along footpaths. But we were soon past the mud. It
had been cold when I left home, but it was warm enough as we walked. We
hunted out several places where a rock might sit concealing a film pot. We met some horse riders at one point. We
started to move back out of the way, but the nice man on the horse said to
stay in plain sight. Horses don’t like surprises. A bit like Pogo, really. As we walked we let the dogs run free as much
as possible. A couple of times we got them back on the leads when the F-birds
(pheasants – dogs can’t spell!) were about. And there was one time
where we weren’t quick enough. Treacle and Pogo aren’t really a problem with
F-birds; they come back when called. Fudge however does not. But when he
starts tracking his tail sticks horizontally straight out. If you keep an eye
out for that danger sign, all is well. Usually. Just as Karl commented that Fudge’s tail was
horizontal he shot off like a bullet from a gun. Treacle and Pogo ran with
him, but lost interest after twenty yards and came back. Fudge kept going.
And going. I had little choice but to set off in pursuit. After about fifteen
minutes I saw what looked like a small dog with a bright pink collar running
off into the distance. Treacle? So I ran after her. I ran, and ran, and
eventually got close enough to see that I wasn’t chasing a dog. I was chasing
a pheasant. Some of them have bright pink rings round their necks. It was at this point that my phone went.
Fudge had lost interest in chasing F-birds and had gone back to find everyone
else (who were about half a mile behind me…). As I made my way back I slipped arse over
head in the mud. From this point on
the dogs stayed on their leads. There’s no denying
that we struggled a tad towards the end. Perhaps rather than putting up very
obvious signs saying “Private, Clear Off”, landowners might be better
advised to signpost the footpaths and rights of way better. Once back at the
car we got out of muddy boots and walked across the road to the pub. It was a
shame that I was driving as the ale selection was rather good. But I had a
shandy. And a rather good bit of pate. And a very good burger. I shall certainly
go back to that pub again. I
took a few photos as we walked… There had been
talk of going on for more walk in the afternoon, but the weather forecast
wasn’t good. We said our goodbyes, and as I drove home so the rain started. Once home I fed
the fish, and inadvertently trod dog mess through the house. Oh, how I
laughed. I settled the dogs, and seeing how the rain had stopped I took the
knacked old barbecue out of the garden and up to the tip. As I drove the rain
started again. I got to the tip
and heard a familiar voice. I looked around and saw no-one, and then realised
that the tip people had the radio on and were listening to the afternoon show on Radio Ashford. I was right – I *had* heard
Steve. Seeing that no one had spotted my mistake I came home again and took
the knacked lawnmower up to the tip. After two tip runs
I put the dog gate back into the car, and it was at this point that I
realised that doing heavy lifting and two tip runs hadn’t been such a good
idea. I think that when I fell in the woods earlier I’d hurt my back more
than I realised. I came home, had a
shower, and thought about feeding the hounds. But with all three asleep I
decided to let sleeping dogs lie. I activated
Netflix and watched a film. ”The Titan”. The
story was done better forty-three years ago by Fred Pohl in his book “Man Plus”. Despite
starring her who was in “Orange is the New Black” it was… rather
rubbish. All drama works on having plausible characters, and this show
didn’t. I then watched the first episode of Netflix’s “Green
Eggs and Ham”. So far it’s not brilliant, but it is streets ahead of
“The Titan”. My back really
hurts… |
|
10 November 2019
(Sunday) - Remembrance Day
Another restless
night. It is somewhat frustrating that the dogs have come to treat going out
into the garden as an opportunity to play silly beggars rather than going to
have a tiddle. So having chucked all three out at midnight and again silly
o’clock, all three were whinging to go out about an hour earlier than I
wanted to get up. With dogs abluted
I made brekkie and peered into the Internet. It would seem I missed Rye
bonfire parade last night. Back in the day that was one of the highlights of
the year; how did I forget that? I had a few
emails. Someone had been hunting out the geocaches I’d hidden in Kings Wood.
One of them apparently needs a new piece of paper in it as the one in there
is wet. I’ll sort it at some point, but driving there, walking a couple of
miles and driving home means giving up a morning. If only the chap who’d
posted the “Needs Maintenance” log had replaced it when he was there…
But this is so often the case. Loads of people want to go running out looking
for film pots under rocks, and expect them to be there and in pristine
condition. Very few people actually want to contribute anything back to the
hobby though… As I rooted round
the Internet I listened to Radio Ashford via the Internet, and then cleaned
up dog sick. Fudge had “blown”. Mind you, all three were farting
impressively (and have been for a day or so). I wonder if they’ve
eaten things they shouldn’t. I got the dogs
organised for our morning walk. Rather than going round the park or round
Orlestone Woods I had this ambitious idea to go do some geo-maintenance. We
drove out to Badlesmere where I replaced two of "er indoors TM"’s geocaches. I
did have a plan to walk on and replace another, but there were pheasants
everywhere, and three dogs on leads pulling me in all directions wasn’t doing
anything for the back I’d strained yesterday. I thought I might go sort out that cache in
Kings Wood about which I’d had a grumble, but we got there to find that the
car park was full. So we headed home. As we drove the radio was broadcasting the
remembrance parade live from the Cenotaph. It sounded as though this year’s
parade had been quite a show. It was amazing how the radio made me feel as
though I was there when I could only hear the commentary. We came home, and
I assembled the lawnmower. There wasn’t much to assemble, but it took half an
hour. And with it together I had a practice run up the garden. Just a very
short stretch. With the lawn saturated I didn’t want to churn it up, but I
wanted to check that the thing worked. It did. I then drove over
to Margate to see my little girl, and four hours later came home again. I
didn’t want to leave the dogs alone in case any fireworks went off near home.
Some did. Not many, but enough to upset the hounds. When I was a lad,
fireworks were pretty. They lit up the darkness and were something to look
at. Nowadays it is all about the explosion. If I knew who it was who was
setting off such loud detonations so close to home I would put a banger
through their letterbox at three in the morning. I really would… |
|
11 November 2019
(Monday) - Why Aye Man
After laying wide
awake worrying about that which I could do nothing I got up. As I hosed out
my sinuses this morning they bled a little. Is that a good thing? I made myself some
toast and watched another episode of “Green Eggs and Ham”. It’s not
bad I suppose, but taking a book made up of fifty words and spinning it out
over a series of four ours is going to take some poetic licence. I then had a look
at the internet in case it had changed overnight. I saw that it was the
thirty-sixth anniversary of the broadcasting of the first episode of a
favourite TV show of mine; “Auf Wiedersehen,
Pet”. Thirty-six years… I had an email
from Crosskeys. They run coach tours, and since I went to Bruges with them a
few years ago I get daily emails advertising trips out. I quite like seeing
where I might go and what I might do; today they suggested a coach trip to
London to see a musical. I was all up for it until I saw the price… for two
of us it would be close on two hundred quid. Still, what’s
money for if not to squander foolishly? As I drove to work
through the torrential rain the pundits on the radio were talking about the Video Assistant Referee systems being used in football matches. Back in
the day referees would make erroneous decisions because they didn’t see
whatever had happened in the football pitch, and everyone would be up in arms
about the wrong decisions having been made. Now with the entire football game
being watched and recorded on video from all directions, the correct
decisions are being made, but still people are unhappy. Go figure. As I walked in to
work I saw quite a queue of people. Probably twenty to thirty people were
waiting their turn in a queue outside Costa. I can’t see the attraction of
the stuff. It’s not bad, but the price of one cup of their stuff pays for a
month’s worth of coffee from the works tea club. I got on with
work. As I did I looked at the rain and the cloud. Today there was a transit of Mercury. The planet Mercury crossed in front of
the Sun, and with a proper telescope you would have been able to see it. The
astro club used to have such a telescope. Back in the day there would have
been a day off work to look at the transit (even if it was cloudy and wet).
I don’t think they organised anything like that today. Such a shame… "er indoors TM" has gone
bowling. I shall watch some telly. There was a huge bag of crisps in the
cupboard – I shall scoff them… |
|
12 November 2019
(Tuesday) - Late Shift
I didn’t sleep
well last night. What with phone calls in the small hours and Treacle
upsetting Pogo by sleeping on his head I think Fudge had the right idea by
dossing down on the sofa. As I scoffed toast
so Fudge asked to go out. I much prefer that he goes for a tiddle on his own;
when all three go out it becomes a silly game of charging round the house and
garden barking at each other. But as I unlocked the door Pogo clearly
heard the sound and ran downstairs shouting as he came. I had a little
look at the Internet. One of the lakes at Hartley Lands fishery had been netted recently. Despite the lake having been drained two
years ago and only carp having been put back in, they netted out over five hundred
pounds (in weight) of roach and bream and other “nuisance”
fish. Where did they
come from? And I wasn’t best
pleased by an advert from Viz magazine. My copy of the latest issue arrived
in the post yesterday. Today the nice people at Viz were offering three
issues for twenty pence. I’d like that bargain… I suspect I got it when I
first subscribed, but that was some years ago. There was also a
lot of comment about allegations that Nigel Farage had been offered a peerage. Is this why his Brexit party isn’t going
to contest the Conservative-held seats in the upcoming election?
Personally I think this isn’t the case. I can’t help but think that if the
Brexit party stood in all the constituencies in the UK they would have a
chance of winning the election, and the last thing Nigel Farage wants is to
be Prime Minister. As Boris Johnson
has found out (to his cost) there is a world of difference between
standing on the sidelines shouting, and actually being expected to do
something. I took the dogs
for a walk round the park. We met several other dogs, and we all played
nicely. Mind you there was one “episode”. Some stupid woman was
walking a small fluffy thing. On seeing my dogs she started screaming, picked
her dog up and waved it around at shoulder height as though it was some toy,
and then got really aggressive with me because my dogs thought she was
playing some sort of game. Some people
shouldn’t have dogs. I commented on
this to other dog walkers; they’d met her too… We came home; I
settled the “Terrible Twins” and took fudge to the vet for his M.O.T.
Part of the health insurance package is an annual health check. Despite his
spondylosis (spine fused and not flexing) and ongoing kidney disease,
he’s doing OK. He’s put on some weight which, as the vet said, is a good
thing. I can’t help but think that no-one’s told him that he’s not well, and
so he acts as though he isn’t. I set off to work.
Pausing only briefly to unload a bootful of rubbish at the tip I was soon
going up the motorway. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking
about a "superhero shop"
in New York where ostensibly superheroes go to get their supplies.
In fact the thing is a somewhere that schoolkids go to be inspired to write. It sounded a fun
idea. I wouldn't mind doing something like that. I wonder if I might make any
money out of it. I took a
circuitous route in to work via a church micro in South Maidstone (as one
does), and then spent over half an hour in a traffic jam. Consequently I was
too late in to work to get any lunch. I pressed on until tea break when I
roughed it with a peanut butter sandwich. I had a rather
busy late shift… and my back still hurts.. |
|
13 November 2019
(Wednesday) - Swap My Vote (?)
Treacle spent much of the night coughing. When she wasn’t, she was
sneaking into the bed and then getting rudely hoiked out by me. I don’t mind
the dogs *on* the bed, but I can’t stand them *in* the bed. When we finally got up she had a small drink of water, and the
coughing stopped... for a while. I made myself some toast, and read an advert on Facebook this morning
that blew my mind. Swap my vote dot com (quite frankly) sums up all that
is wrong with our so-called democracy. Its website is currently broken, but
you can read about it here. Basically if you live somewhere where
the standing candidate has such a large majority that you can be sure they
won’t be voted out, you can “swap your vote” with someone in another
constituency. The idea is that… take me for example. A hat stand with a blue
rosette would win any election in Ashford; the Conservative majority is so
great. My vote makes no difference. But where my brother lives in Hastings
the current MP has a majority of less than three hundred. Votes made there
can count. So I could come to an arrangement with a voter in Hastings that I
would vote Conservative and they would vote for whoever I suggested. You might think that this would be an idiotic thing to do. It is. But
in such a scenario I would know that my vote had actually counted for once,
and the hypothetical person in Hastings would be happy that they had voted
for the winner. It turns out that a *lot* of people don’t really care who gets
in; they just want to have voted for the winner. "er indoors TM" refereed the
dogs’ breakfasts (it can get heated), and I then took the dogs round
the park. The walk went rather well I suppose; Pogo was only called “a
horrible dog” once. Personally I think that (on this occasion) he
was the injured party. If some silly woman is going to let her little dog go
charging up to other dogs (barking and shouting), she really can’t
complain when the other dogs shout back. I came home, set my lap-top doing its weekly update, and watched an
episode of “Green Eggs and Ham”. It was rather fun. I was glad I’d set
my lap-top updating whist I was doing something else and not waiting for it;
it took nearly twenty minutes to sort itself out. I set off to work. Usually I'd get shopping and petrol in the Sainsbury's
at Aylesford, but just recently the traffic there has been too much like hard
work. So I went to the Ashford branch today where I very nearly smacked some
silly old fool round the ears. With the entire world to stand in and stare
into space for no good reason, why chose to do so right in the shop's
doorway? I got razor blades (not cheap!!) and then drove off up the
motorway. Usually I find a little adventure for the way to work, but not today.
I just went straight there. Unlike yesterday when I took an age to park,
today I parked my car within seconds of getting there. I went into the canteen (as I had time to do so today). Dinner
was good, but I made the mistake of having the spotted dick and custard. It
was rather good, but it sat heavy. It sat heavy for the entire late shift. And in closing today, it is now exactly a year since I got my Nectar
card. In that year I’ve accrued four thousand and sixteen Nectar points which
is worth twenty pounds and eight pence. Hardly a life-changing amount, but
looking back it is far better that the Morrisons card I used to use when I
worked in Canterbury. I only got a fiver a year with that. |
|
14 November 2019
(Thursday) - Razor Blades and Kebabs
I got up after
something of a restless night and had a shave with one of the new razor
blades I bought yesterday. I am incredibly mean with razor blades; when you
see the advert about buying them cheaply on-line I always laugh. According to
those who should know about these things, a razor blade should be good for a week or so. Having bought eight of the things
yesterday for twenty-four quid, that works out at a week’s shaving for three
quid (not counting shaving gel). Stuff that - I usually get about two
to three months from a razor blade. Mind you I could
feel the difference using a new blade. I watched another
episode of “Green Eggs and Ham”, then sparked up my lap-top. A couple of days
ago I read that a friend’s car had been stolen. Apparently last night it was
found burning. I’m rather confused here. The car was reported missing a
couple of days ago. It has been driven around roads where there are cameras
which supposedly are capable of number plate recognition. So why weren’t the
authorities able to locate the car whilst it was being driven about rather
than waiting until the fire brigade had to go and put out the fire started by
those who had stolen it? I had an email
from LinkedIn with connection requests from people I’ve never met. I had an
email from Amazon suggesting I bought that I’ve already bought. But perhaps
the most baffling email was one from the Lego corporation suggesting I might
customise a Christmas present for a friend by randomly searching their
catalogue until I found something they might like. How is that “customising
a Christmas present”? I set off to work
on a rather cold and dismal morning. As I went up the motorway the
pundits on the radio were interviewing that odious Nigel Farage. Having
announced that his Brexit Party isn't going to field any candidates for the
upcoming elections in three hundred constituencies where the
Conservatives look set to win, he's removed any chance of the Brexit party
ever actually getting any power. He wasn't at all happy when his party
was described as a "pressure group" rather than a "political
party", but he couldn't deny it. There was also a
lot of talk about the gender pay gap. In a lot of workplaces, men
are still being paid significantly more than women. Even though that has been
illegal for over forty years. So much for the rule of law (again!) I got to work; I
did my bit. At tea break "er indoors TM" sent a
message. She'd taken Treacle to the vet to sort out his coughing. I
thought the coughing was a *lot* less today than it had been
yesterday, but dogs are a worry. The vet couldn't find anything wrong, so
we're hoping for the best. I couldn't help but think she had a bit of fluff
stuck in her throat. A bit of fluff from something she shouldn't have eaten.
But this evening when walking the dogs round the road, Pogo seems to have
developed a cough.
I’ve now got stomach ache to go with my back
ache. |
|
15 November 2019
(Friday) - Bit Dull
I suppose I slept
well. I can’t help but think that had I not had an alarm set, rather than
waking at five o’clock I might well have slept through till ten. I got up, had
another good shave with that new razor blade then made myself some toast. I
scoffed it whilst watching another episode of “Green
Eggs and Ham” and listening to my stomach gurgle. Last
night’s kebab was still having things to say. As I had my morning
root around Facebook I saw something which made me think. A American company
has been persuaded to resume production of vincristine. Vincristine is an anti-cancer drug. It
is particularly useful in the treatment of childhood cancers and isn’t
particularly lucrative for those who make it. Here’s a
suggestion for the upcoming election. Either vote for a party which wants to
support the National Health Service, or only have illnesses from which the
pharmaceutical giants can make a tidy profit. I look at Facebook
every morning to see what my friends have been doing. I see less and less of
what friends are doing, and more and more of this sort of thing. It was a very wet
and dismal morning as I drove off to work. As I drove the pundits on the
radio were drivelling on trying to make news out of nothing as they so often
do. This morning much of the talk was of the Labour party’s plan to provide
free high-speed broadband to everyone. The theory goes that a decent
broadband is a necessity of life and so should be readily and freely
available. I can’t help but feel that much the same could be said of water,
electricity, gas and waste disposal to name but a few essentials. I got to work; I
did my bit. I had a good day, but… What with the vagaries of my shift system
I work nights and weekends and have rostered days off here and there. Having
worked for five consecutive days had taken its toll. I was rather glad when
it was time to go home. We had fish and
chips for tea. Very nice. I then ironed some shirts, and had a bag of
Brussels sprouts flavoured crisps. Have you ever tried them? If not, I
wouldn’t bother… You can tell when
a day is dull when a bag of crisps is the highlight. |
|
16 November 2019
(Saturday) - Challock
I slept well.
Partly because a five-day week had worn me out, and partly because the dogs
slept well. I got up and
tripped over Fudge who had made a nest out of an old duvet and had set
himself up at the bottom of the attic stairs. I twisted my (already dodgy)
back; he carried on snoring. I made some toast;
I had a look at Facebook. Unlike yesterday there wasn’t quite so much
political stuff. There were a few knob jokes, and one or two posts from the
works award ceremonies that took place last night. Every year NHS Trusts
around the country have award ceremonies in which they celebrate the best
people and teams, those who’ve gone the extra mile, those who’ve shown the
most outstanding devotion to duty. Personally I feel
that this is an incredibly bad thing. Where I used to work had these awards
and someone with whom I worked every day got an award for doing exactly the
same thing that all of us did every day. But she was rewarded and we weren’t.
By singling out one for praise, automatically all the others are sidelined. I
thought about commenting on today’s posts with a little rant, but I’ve done
so in the past to no avail. I also had an
email from the Geocaching Association of Great Britain. I was nominated for
their committee a few weeks ago. I asked around to find out what they
actually did and was totally unable to get an answer. This morning I was
asked to vote in their committee elections. There were twelve candidates and
I could vote for up to eight of them. I voted for one for the simple reason
that I knew the chap. I have no idea
what is expected of him or what he might do… but that is democracy for you. I activated my new
credit card (that took some doing!) and started getting ready for the
off. It wasn’t long before we met up with Karl, Tracey and Charlotte in
Challlock, We had a little walk following the series of geocaches I set out (in
a Wherigo) a couple of months ago. Despite the rather wet terrain we had
a good walk. Admittedly Fudge did disappear for a little while, and pulling
two-thirds of a dead mouse out of Pogo’s gullet wasn’t nice, but we rose
above such inconvenience. And with walk
walked we went back to the Red Lion at Badlesmere for lunch. "er
indoors TM" had missed out last week. Lunch there was rather
good. And I took a
few photos too. We came home,
settled the dogs, and popped out to visit "Daddy’s Little Angel TM".
We took her a McMilkShake, and after a little while came home. "er indoors TM" boiled up
omelettes; after a rather good dinner earlier neither of us were that hungry.
We scoffed whilst watching an episode of “Junior Bake-Off”. I do like
that show. So many talented children… The backache I got
when I fell over last week is still giving me gyp… |
|
17 November 2019
(Sunday) - Lazy Day
I often talk of
having an early night; I actually did so last night. Apart from a couple of
trips to the loo I slept for eleven hours. It has been a stressful week. I got up leaving "er
indoors TM" and the dogs asleep, had my morning ablutions and
made some toast. Fudge helped me with the crusts as I peered into the depths
of the Internet. For once people had posted photos of what they’d been doing.
Some friends had been canoeing in Larkfield
swimming pool. We really should get our canoe out… though maybe leave it
until spring. There had been a
geo-meet yesterday afternoon – what with one thing and another I’d forgotten
all about it. A friend’s band
had been playing in Ashford – I’ve not seen him in years and I’d forgotten
about that too. I saw quite a few adverts
for Lego sets on some of the Lego-related Facebook groups that I follow. Lego
is rather expensive; the stuff that I like (from the 1970s)
particularly so. The vintage Lego Facebook pages can be quite comical. Those
selling the stuff want a fortune for it. Those buying want it at bargain
basement prices. And (seemingly) never the two shall meet. I looked at a few
sets I quite fancied, and can’t help but think that I could probably make
something very similar out of my spares. We took the dogs
out for a little walk round the park. "er indoors TM" wanted to do
some Munzee maintenance. The walk went well… Pogo was puzzling. We’ve been
watching that “Dog Whisperer” TV show in an attempt to get an insight
into what goes through his head. We met two other dogs with whom he was fine
until they got too close to Fudge. Fudge didn’t care, but Pogo was being
protective. Shortly after he was having a serious shout at a passing dog when
another came past. He completely ignored the second dog. Why? If only I could figure out what goes through
his head. We got home to find that Cliff had popped
round. We’ve not seen him for ages; it was good to have a little catch-up. We then went on to
Matalan. I specifically wanted shirts for work. But none of them had a breast
pocket. I like a breast pocket as it gives me somewhere to put my phone. Oh
well… Whilst I was there I got new slippers, jim-jams and a pair of trousers.
Bearing in mind that not many people cater for the more rotund physique, I
buy stuff when the opportunity arises. We came home via
the co-op. They do a rather good Belgian bun. Belgian buns and coffee did us
for lunch. I wrote up some CPD
until "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction TM"
arrived with Sam. He seemed utterly disinterested in me; far more interested
in playing the game on Sam’s phone. They all set off on a mission leaving me
“Home Alone” with the dogs. I sparked up Netflix and watched (slept
through most of) the last episode of “Parade’s End”.
I then stayed awake through two episodes of “Green Eggs and Ham” after
which "er indoors TM" returned. She’s now boiling
up dinner, I’m sitting in front of the telly in my new jim-jams and slippers.
Despite an incredibly lazy day I’m wondering about having another early
night… |
|
18 November 2019
(Monday) - Rostered Day Off
I did have another
early night last night. I slept like a log until I was licked awake at
quarter past eight by one of my favourite ladies. It was a shame that the
licks were dog food flavoured, but you can’t have everything. I came downstairs
to find "er indoors TM" on the phone. She hurt her foot
a while back. It hasn’t got any better, and so a visit to the doc would be in
order. She had phoned them at one second to eight to find the place closed.
She re-dialed, and in that short time they had turned on the phones and she
was twenty-third in the queue. By the time I’d got up she was down to
sixteenth in the queue. I was reminded of my old GP in Hastings. He had
appointments in the afternoons and evenings, but in the morning you just
turned up before eight o’clock. On the stroke of eight o’clock the doors were
opened, everyone walked in, and the doors were closed. He would then spend
the morning dealing with everyone who’d walked in at eight o’clock. And they try to make cuts to the NHS budget… I made toast and
had a look at the Internet. There was a lot of talk about last night’s
broadcast of the BBC’s remake of the classic “War of the Worlds”; most
of it being rather negative. I’ve recorded the show… I expect I shall watch
it at some stage. I tried to see more of what had happened on-line but
Treacle climbed on to the back of the sofa and dabbed at my head
continuously; telling me it was walkies time. Seeing that a new
geocache had gone live I drove out to Rodmersham to see if I might get the
First to Find. I was beaten by half an hour. As I was about to
do the secret geo-rituals a land rover pulled up and some bloke asked if he
could help me. I said he couldn’t. He demanded to know what I was doing; I
told him I was minding my own business on a public right of way. He wasn’t
happy with this at all, but he grudgingly accepted my lie that I’d stopped
for a tiddle. I suspect that if this bloke carries on watching passers-by,
then this cache’s life might not be that long. We drove on to
Kings Wood. I opened the boot to find one or more of the dogs had been sick.
There was a lot of dog vom. We had a good
walk; Kings Wood is a good place to walk. However there was a mild
frustration. We’d chosen to walk in Kings Wood as one of my geocaches hidden
there had a “Needs Maintenance” log on it. The paper log inside was
supposedly wet. If I’d found a wet log I’d have replaced it myself, but
that’s just me… As the crow flies,
that film pot was a mile from the car park. As the dog wanders, the round
trip from the car to the cache and back was probably close on three miles. We
got to the geocache to find there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Ho hum… We came home; I
washed the dogs, then washed the last of the dog sick out the back of my car.
Over a sandwich I then watched the first episode of the new series of “The
Crown” – it has “Gavin”
out of “Trollied” playing Harold Wilson. Seeing the dogs
were all snoring I slipped out to do some Christmas shopping. Bearing in mind
that "er indoors TM" has got seriously into crafting recently
I thought I might visit the craft shop on the road to Faversham to get some
pressies for her. We drive past it so often… I drove the ten-mile journey only to find it
doesn’t open on Mondays. But I took a circuitous route home and got a couple
of bits and bobs. I wasn’t home that
long before "er indoors TM" came home. She
boiled up a rather good bit of gammon and chips and then went bowling. I
sorted out the ironing whilst watching more of “The Crown” on Netflix. For a rostered day off, I haven’t stopped… |
|
19 November 2019
(Tuesday) - Tiny Toon Adventures
After a
particularly restless night I made myself some toast and watched another
episode of “Green Eggs and Ham” as I have done recently. I thought
there were only eight episodes of that show, but I’m now up to number nine. I then had a look
at the Internet. With absolutely nothing at all having happened overnight,
and with no emails at all, I downloaded a new e-book and I got myself ready
for work. It took over
quarter of an hour to scrape the ice off of the car (outside and inside). I set off for
work. Narrowly avoiding being splatted off of the motorway by a Polish lorry
I drove off in the general direction of Maidstone. As I drove I listened to
the pundits on the radio who were interviewing some chap from the Green
party. He had this revolutionary idea that people might want to use public
transport *if* it was more attractive than having your own car. He's
probably right. I spend about as much on petrol getting to work as I would on
train fare. But I can get to work quicker and in much more comfort in my car.
If it was cheaper to get a train and I didn’t have to stand about shivering
on cold platforms waiting for trains which were running late or had been
cancelled, I'd get the train. Mind you I might
need to get used to the idea of cold railway stations - the Green party
haven't ruled out the compulsory purchase of all old petrol cars in order to
save the planet. I got to work; I
did my bit. For much of the day I was humming the theme tune to "Tiny Toon Adventures" for
no reason that I could fathom. I came home and
walked the dogs round the block. Christmas decorations are starting to appear
in the local houses. With walk walked I
made a phone call. I’d had a letter about the house buildings and contents
insurance renewal. The insurance company were planning to charge over sixty
quid more for next year’s cover. I phoned them up, had a whinge, and got the
same deal for an increase of only eight quid. It pays to phone
them up. I phone them up every time they send a quote through, and every time
they reduce the quote by massive amounts of money. I put the
telly on and watched the live political debate between the Prime Minister and
the Leader of the Opposition. I shall be intrigued to hear what the informed
opinion about the debate will be tomorrow morning on the radio as it seemed
to my uneducated eye that Mr Corbyn ran rings round Mr Johnson (could you
believe it). "er indoors TM" came home.
She’d been visiting "My Boy TM" and Cheryl, and
came home with some home-made stew for me. It was rather good… |
|
20 November 2019
(Wednesday) - A Teenaged Granddaughter
The dogs slept
well last night, and consequently so did I. I had a shave, made toast, and
watched another episode of “Green Eggs and Ham” in which the plot has
taken a rather unexpected twist. As I watched, Fudge snored quietly on the
sofa; I tried not to disturb him. With absolutely
nothing happening on the Internet I got dressed. Seeing another cold morning
I popped out to the back garden and switched off the pond pump. The fish will
hibernate until the spring... I hope. They have done so in the past. The
ice got scraped off the car rather quicker this morning than it did
yesterday, and I headed off. As I drove
the pundits on the radio were interviewing someone from the Aston Martin
corporation. They've just launched a new car. Retailing at over
one hundred and fifty thousand pounds, I'm now convinced that my choice
of career as a professional blood tester was a bad idea. I'd love to
have that amount of money to squander on a car. Is it too late for
me to become a Double-0 agent? Mind you I'm not sure that my back would
be up to it. There was quite a
bit of talk on the radio about last night's debate between Mr Johnson and Mr
Corbyn. The view seemed to be that both had fared equally badly. They
probably had, but bearing in mind that one had come from a position of being
the Prime Minister, and the other from being widely regarded as something of
a joke, this must be a win for Mr Corbyn. Which is possibly something of a
worry for the nation. There was then a
lot of discussion about how politics is no longer safe ground for comedians.
Apparently a lot of professional comedians are losing audiences depending on
which politicians they attack. Back in the day everyone took the rise out of
Margaret Thatcher, and it was expected. Purely because there was no opposition
worth mentioning. Which is exactly like it is today, so I can't see what's
changed. They wheeled on
Alexei Sayle (of all people) who spoke rather eloquently on the
matter. He felt that he had not experienced any backlash from attacking
anyone;, to which a much younger professional comedienne replied "but
you're Alexei Sayle!!" He was somewhat
taken aback by that. It is somewhat
amazing that he is now seen as part of the establishment when I can remember
him singing "Hello John, Gotta New Motor?" and having the
gimmick of being a "fat bastard in a tight suit". I drove to
Sainsbury and got petrol (before the place became gridlocked), and
went in to work. I did my bit, and came home via "My Boy TM"’s
house where there was a little birthday tea for Lacey. She’s now thirteen!! |
|
21 November 2019
(Thursday) - Dull
"er indoors TM" got up at four
o’clock. She let the dogs out for a tiddle as their shouting woke me and
probably half the county. The dogs have this thing where going into the
garden is one big shout which is led by Fudge, and if he doesn’t want to go
out, the other two simply refuse to go out. After an hour or so I gave up trying to sleep
and watched another episode of “Green Eggs and Ham”. A colleague told
me yesterday that her (pre-school age) children quite like the show
too. Very little had happened on Facebook overnight,
but I had a few emails. Some people had been out hunting some of my Wherigos
over the last day or so. Some people like the things; some say they don’t but
won’t even try to do them. Some make a point of ignoring all instruction and
then try to complain when they do it wrong… Ho hum… I shall ignore what they say in their written
logs. It never fails to amaze me that those people who’ve not hidden a film
pot under a rock in over six years aren’t more encouraging to those that
have. It was rather cold
again this morning. As I drove to work the pundits on the radio were
talking about the Labour party's plans to go back to the good old days of
having local councils providing housing and social care and running the buses
and doing all the sorts of things that a local council really should be
doing. There is a school
of thought that these things can be done more efficiently by the private
sector, but after many years of this, it is no secret that the private sector
is doing all these things to make a profit, and making a profit entails doing
it on the cheap. On the one hand, having councils do the work of a council
will cost a small (large) fortune. On the other hand, no one uses the
buses because there aren't anywhere near enough, and no one can afford the
rents charged by private landlords. Some good may come
of the Labour party’s plans. Who knows? There was also
talk of the impeachment trial of President Trump. He's been accused of all
manner of wrongdoing. The expert opinion on the radio this morning was that
he is as guilty as sin, but because all those who get to decide his fate are
terrified of him, he will get off scot-free. Will he? Time will
tell; it always does. I got to work
whilst it was still dark and did my bit. And with my bit done I came home. An
early start made for an early finish, but by the time I’d been to Argos and
then made a phone call I found myself bogged down in the rush-hour traffic. Once home I walked
the dogs round the block. Three dogs is hard work. I fed the dogs, then "er
indoors TM" messaged with instructions on how to cook sausage
and chips. I had a go at boiling them up; fortunately "er indoors TM"
came home before I totally poggered them. Today was dull…
the highlight of the day was going to Argos… that’s pretty dull. |
|
22 November 2019
(Friday) - Before the Night Shift
As I looked at the internet this morning I
saw an advert for “Black Friday” deals. This “Black Friday”
thing was all the rage over the last few years but people have got so
over-excited about the thing
that it was to be somewhat scaled back this year. Which would probably be for
the best… but with a week to go the advert have started. I took the dogs out rather earlier than I
would usually do this morning. As we went Pogo barked at everything and
anything. I wish he wouldn’t. He doesn’t do *anything* wrong when "er
indoors TM" takes his lead, but he plays me up so much.
I’ve been watching the “Dog Whisperer” programs on the telly, but it’s
hard to try to do the special tricks with him when I’ve got two other dogs in
tow. Fudge was also less than angelic today;
enthusiastically humping several other passing dogs. We went round the park, and come home through
the co-op field. Realistically I should stop walking through there until the
spring; it is becoming quite a quagmire. I then drove up to the town centre. It’s
three weeks since I was at the hospital for the double vision. It has cleared
up (mostly) but still recurs after having been reading my Kindle app
for fifteen minutes or so. I thought I would give SpecSavers one last
chance to sort it out, and I very nearly walked out right away. I was seen by
someone who introduced herself as a trainee. But (to be fair) once she
realised my circumstances she went off and got the boss. Having checked the
glasses three weeks ago, today they checked my eyes today. Had the person who
tested me two months ago got the prescription right? It turned out she had,
and after quite a bit of fiddling about it turns out there is still some
residual weakness in my eye muscles from where they were strained when the
glasses weren’t fitted right. The optician assured me it would get better
with time, and to be fair to him they are improving. Mind you, to be fair to myself, my next eye
test will be with a proper optician. I came home. Earlier in the week I’d shut the
garden pond down for the winter. So this morning I cleaned out the filter so
that when I start it again in the spring it will be clean and fresh and not
full of fish dung that has sat there all winter. Cleaning out the pond filter sounds such an
easy thing to do. And it is. It just takes an age and smells of fish dung. I had a croissant and a cup of coffee, and
took myself off to bed for the afternoon. I didn’t sleep that well really.
Pogo came up and slept on the bed with me, but Fudge and Treacle spent the
afternoon shouting at passers-by. I gave up trying to sleep, and then
binge-watched the entire series of the new UK Gold comedy “The Cockfields”.
It was better than I thought it would be; I expect it will be on a continuous
loop on the telly from now on. I’m off to the night shift in a bit… |
|
23 November 2019
(Saturday) - Geo Meet
During a lull in the proceedings last night (on
the night shift) I had a look at Facebook via my phone. There was a
posting on the "Old Boys of the Hastings Academy for Budding Geniuses"
page. There had been a school reunion yesterday evening. People who'd been at
the Hastings Academy for Budding Geniuses over thirty years ago had
got together to reminisce and pretend that the good old days had
actually been "good" and not "rather crappy"
as they really were. I'd forgotten it was on, but had no intention of
going anyway. Of the one hundred and twenty boys in my year, I was close to
maybe a dozen, and most of those are already on my Facebook friends list.
With a couple of notable exceptions I didn't really have anything to do
with anyone who wasn't in my year. I certainly wasn't going to travel thirty
miles to make polite conversation with people I probably had never met. Interestingly there was a video (on the
Facebook page) of the attendees singing the School Song. The School Song
of the Hastings Academy for Budding Geniuses is an odd one. During my six
years there I never heard it sung. In fact before seeing the video today, the
only time I had ever heard it sung was by my mother (of all people)
who seemed surprised that I'd never heard it. Judging by the video I saw last
night I'm rather glad that I never got to sing it. As songs go, it is (was?)
rather dire. Thinking about it, my mother also used to
sing a song about "Shrimps and Leopards" which she claimed
was the School Song of another seat of learning in Hastings. Years later
I found out that the song was actually about "Nymphs and Shepherds". With the shift done I came home on a rather
wet morning. As I drove the pundits on the radio were interviewing the Health
Secretary. The chap wasn’t really answering any of the questions put to him;
instead he was taking the line “we’re not as bad as Jeremy Corbyn”.
Possibly true, possibly not, but hardly a plausible political position. I got home to find "Daddy’s Little
Angel TM" in residence. She was tidying up. I wasn’t
getting involved, and went to bed. I woke up to find here and her mother both
gone, and that one of the dogs had eaten all the fish food. I got the dogs organised and drove out to
Quex Barn. This is somewhere that I’ve driven past a few times but have never
visited. We met up with Karl, Tracey and Charlotte and had a walk round
(managing to avoid the rain). Quite frankly I was rather disappointed.
I thought the place was a rather posh country estate; it is more of a series
of industrial and commercial units. But we had a good (if rather short)
walk. We then went inside to the geo-meet. Stilton
ploughman’s made for a rather good lunch, and it was good to catch up with
friends. I took a brief diversion for fish food on the
way home, and once home set the washing machine loose on the laundry. I
ironed trousers whilst watching an episode of “The Crown”. I think an early night might be a plan… it
usually is after a night shift. |
|
24 November 2019
(Sunday) - Family Meal
After a couple of hours asleep I was woken by
Fudge’s whining. Having refused to go out for a tiddle at a sensible time, he
was bursting for a wee at midnight. I sent him out, and the other two
followed; not for lavatorial purposes, but for a a quick bout of their
favourite game of “silly beggars”. Fudge tiddled, Treacle and Pogo ran
round the garden snarling at each other. After five minutes we all went back to bed. I got up eight hours later. I made some toast and had a look at Facebook.
A friend was talking politics and was questioning the Green party’s stance on
nuclear power. On the one hand we all lead a lifestyle which needs rather
large amounts of power, and nuclear is (currently) pretty much the
only credible way to provide it. On the other hand when it goes bang, it goes
bang big-time. When Chernobyl went bang in 1986, part of my job was to
monitor radiation levels in the air conditioning filters at work as we used
very small amounts of radio isotopes (for measuring vitamin B12 in human
blood). A month or so after the accident the levels
of radiation we were detecting were *way* above reportable levels. Nowhere is safe when these things go up. Seeing that it was dry I put the leads on to
the dogs and we went out. I drove down to Orlestone woods. The dogs can run
off the leads for much longer there than when walking round the park. There
are far fewer other people there, and those that are there seem to be far
more understanding of the peculiarities of the canine mind. We had a good walk. We only met two other dog
walkers, and we had no “episodes” Bearing in mind I’d need money later we came
home via the cash machine in the co-op and got stuck in the car park for
fifteen minutes whilst a lorry tried to get into a space which everyone (but
the driver) could see it was never going to fit. We came home; the dogs had a bath to try to
shift the mud they’d accumulated. And with mud hosed off they had breakfast.
I had this plan that a walk would work up the appetites of those that can be
fussy feeders, and those that can be travel-sick would be better eating after
the drive. It was a plan that seemed to work. I ran round with
the Hoover, wrote up some CPD, played
a little Mahjongg, and got my glad rags on. "My Boy TM" and
Cheryl came round and drove us all down to the Queens Head in Icklesham where
we met more family and had a rather good dinner. It was good to catch up; I
scoffed far too much. I
took a few photos; perhaps I might have taken a few more. We skipped dessert; we said our goodbyes and
came home. I went back with "My Boy TM" and
Cheryl. They’d had a little disco party for Lacey last night, and having
spent a couple of hundred quid on food, not a single child had eaten a thing.
I had a cuppa and ate far too much pudding, then came home. I *really*
don’t like leaving the dogs for long (even though they just sleep) I spent the
evening in front of the telly with a stomach ache… |
|
25 November 2019
(Monday) - Bit Dull
I woke half an hour
before the alarm was due to go off. A combination of a night shift a couple
of days ago and having eaten far too much yesterday had me feeling a tad
rough. I got up, made brekkie and shared the crusts with Fudge. In the past
the vet has told me off about that, but he’s lost so much weight that I’m
sure it’s not that much of a bad thing for him. As we scoffed
toast together I watched the last episode of “Green Eggs and Ham” in
which everything turned out for the best (like we thought it would),
then I had a quick look at the Internet. (My morning routine is so
predictable) I saw that my
cousin (and some of her branch of the family) were off to EuroDisney.
I’ve been there a couple of times (when I was a cub scout leader), I’d
like to go back sometime myself. I also saw there
was a formal geo-meet being planned for this Saturday as a prelude to
actually going off hunting Tupperware even though this is specifically
prohibited in the rules. Ho hum… With no emails of
note I got dressed and set off for work. It was wet and
yukky as I drove to work this morning. Things weren't helped by slow moving
traffic on the motorway. I say "slow moving"; the traffic
was at a standstill for fifteen minutes then started again for no apparent
reason. As I drove (and
sat and waited) the pundits on the radio were interviewing some scientist
or other who was part of the British Antarctic survey team. I'm always
interested in them... thirty years ago I nearly took a year out to go and
work with them. Sometimes I wonder if I should have actually done it. There was also a
lot of talk about the recently released Conservative party manifesto.
Yesterday as I drove to Orlestone woods the people who'd written manifesto
for the three main parties were being interviewed on the radio. Apparently
not one of them was actually a member of the political party for which they
worked. That speaks
volumes, doesn't it? I stopped off at
Aldi to get supplies. In their "tat aisle" they had a
christmassy light projector thingy for a tenner. I seriously considered
getting it. Eventually I realised it would be a total waste of money. I might go back
for it tomorrow. I got to work and
did my bit. It was a rather busy day today; I was glad to come home. I came
home via the vet’s. Fudge’s new tablets were ready to be collected. Once home "er
indoors TM" and I waked the dogs through the rain. They didn’t
mind getting wet. I suppose I didn’t really mind that much. It goes with
having dogs really (not that I ever wanted any). With "er indoors TM"
of bowling I watched a couple of episodes of “The Crown”. I can’t help
but wonder just how realistic the show is… mind you I think I would have got
on better with Harold Wilson than I ever wold have got on with Edward Heath. Today was another of those dull days… |
|
26 November 2019
(Tuesday) - Christmassy Light Projector Thingy
I slept well. As
time goes on I find I am going to bed earlier and earlier… but still waking
far earlier than I would like. Over brekkie I
watched more of “The Crown” on Netflix. Some of this morning’s episode
had been filmed in Rye and Winchelsea. I do like seeing places I know on the
telly; it somehow makes the show more believable. Mind you seeing what was
supposedly Princess Anne “doing the dirty deed” wasn’t believable for
the simple reason that she’d kept her undercrackers on. I’m no expert on the
matter, but usually removing undercrackers is a prerequisite for “doing
the dirty deed”. I had a look at
the Internet. A few weeks ago I mentioned that I’d turned down a nomination
for the committee of the Geocaching Association of Great Britain for the
simple reason that no one was able to tell me what they actually did. I saw
that the results of their election were announced yesterday. A friend has
been elected – he assures me he’ll tell me what they do… when he finds out
himself. I had one email
this morning. Amazon were selling science-fiction and fantasy e-books for a
quid each. I clicked on the link and was presented with a myriad of books;
thrillers and mysteries… Bearing in mind
the amount of time I sat stationary on the motorway yesterday morning I
checked the Google Traffic thingy before setting off for work. It claimed
there were no delays on the way to Maidstone. It had lied. The Google Traffic
thingy had totally missed a major traffic jam at the cows roundabout (not
five minutes' drive from home), and by the time I'd got to Maidstone the
motorway was so gridlocked that I came off of it early and took a diversion
through Aylesford.
Interesting times. As I was driving
past I popped into Aldi. Yesterday I'd forgotten to get any jam, and as I was
back in there I bought that Christmassy light projector thingy that I'd seen
yesterday. I was wondering if they might have sold out. I don't think they'd sold
any. Perhaps I might have thought about that before I shelled out my
hard-earned money?
That's a kind
thing to do. Some colleagues
went running at lunch time. Apparently they ran for over two and a half
miles. I commented that if we were supposed to run, then God would never have
made buses, but my sage advice fell on deaf ears. I also got my
shift pattern for January through to March. I've got to work a few weekends
and a few nights, but I'm not complaining. I was a tad late
getting out of work. I got home just as "er indoors TM" was taking the
dogs out. We had a drier walk than yesterday evening, and I even got a “First
to Munz” too. You can’t beat a Munzee. Once home I tried out the Christmassy light
projector thingy. I think it’s pretty sexy, but there is one major drawback.
Billed for indoor use only, it comes with a ground stake for spiking it into
the ground. There’s no way to stand it on a shelf. I’ve had a genius idea to
put it in a flowerpot. I must admit that
I’m rather disappointed that the dogs have completely ignored it. So far… |
|
27 November 2019
(Wednesday) – Stuff
Over brekkie I
watched the last episode in Netflix’s current series of “The Queen”.
One bit made me think. Her Majesty was in bed asleep. One lackey came in and
opened the curtains, another delivered the morning cup of tea, others were
busying about in the background. I suppose the Queen is used to that; for
myself I like getting up quietly (whilst everyone else is still asleep)
and having some time to myself before I have to be civil. Now that the
series is over I wonder what I might watch next. I sparked up my
lap-top to see if I’d missed much overnight. I don’t think I had really. The
on-line Lego community were very excited because the Lego corporation had
bought out what had been a fan-run Lego website on which you could get
designs of old Lego kits. Some saw this as a good thing, others saw it as a
bad thing. But (as is the case with most hobbies) very few realised
that their hobby is someone else’s business. I had a dozen
emails this morning. But not one that had actually been worth sending. I
deleted the lot and got ready for work. As I drove to work
the pundits on the radio were interviewing the Labour Shadow Secretary for
Justice. He seemed to take reports that Jeremy Corbyn had (last
night) given the worst political interview in history as something of a challenge.
He appeared to be determined to outdo his leader. The chap flatly
refused to answer any question put to him, and tried to deny facts which have
long been established. This upcoming
election is really going to be all about choosing the least worst
option. I was rather
amazed at the "Thought for the Day" section which started
off as a sensible and reasoned discourse, but after a couple of minutes (when
most people would have stopped listening) the vicar presenting this bit
just started repeating "blah blah Jesus". It’s the sort of
thing that most vicars do. I came off the
motorway early again this morning. As I drove through Aylesford I saw that
petrol prices there were six pence a litre more expensive than what I'd
paid last week. I got to Sainsburys where the prices were two pence a litre
cheaper than last week. But that was eight pence more expensive than just a
mile down the road. It pays to shop
around. Amazingly when I
came to pay I was asked for my Nectar card. That happens very rarely.
When you are next shopping in Sainsburys, watch the till operatives. They
always ask women shoppers about Nectar cards, but rarely (if ever) ask
the men. I got to work, and
I had a rather paranoid day. It is no secret that if I make a mistake in what
I do I could kill someone. That’s why I’m very picky in what I do, and if
ever you hear that the hospital lab has rejected your blood sample, there is
probably a very good reason for it. We’d heard of a case in a hospital in
America where two people with identical names and rather similar dates of
both had been confused, and one had received a kidney transplant by mistake. Whoops!! I’ve made mistakes
before. I hope I never make one on that scale. I came home; "er
indoors TM" and I took the dogs out (despite the rain).
We all got rather wet. "er indoors TM" then boiled up
a rather good bit of scran which we devoured whilst watching an episode of “Junior
Bake Off”. I do like that show; the children on it are incredibly
talented. But it upsets me at the end of each episode when one gets knocked
out (but it doesn’t upset me as much as it upsets them). I then had a look at the monthly accounts.
I’m far from skint… I’m just nowhere near as rich as I’d like to be… |
|
28 November 2019
(Thursday) - Santa Shoots an Elf
Unfortunately the
dogs had a restless night, and when they are restless, so is everyone else. Over brekkie I
watched an episode of “Man Down”. Originally broadcast some six years ago
it was entertaining, and featured the late Rik Mayall. I sparked up the
lap-top and peered into the Internet. Not a lot was happening on Facebook
really. There was quite a lot of political rubbish being posted. But for
every post about how terrible the Conservatives are, there was another post
about how awful Labour are. Both of the main parties seem to have as their
election catch-phrase “vote for us – we aren’t as bad as them…” LinkedIn had
emailed me (yet again) asking if I knew random strangers. As I drove to work
the pundits on the radio were talking about the latest poll about the
upcoming General Election. Our old friend Science has devised a really
super-doper way of finding out how the general public are going to vote and
has predicted that the Conservatives will win with a majority of about
sixty-eight seat in the House of Commons. That struck me as a rather
frightening prospect until it was pointed out that the margin of error in
this prediction was so large that it was equally possible that the
Conservatives wouldn't even win at all. So why bother with
the prediction in the first place? There was then
talk about Mr Corbyn's latest revelation. He's obtained over four hundred
pages of secret documents which (he claims) prove that the Government
are going to sell off the NHS. Interestingly every single expert who's *not*
a member of the Labour party feel that these documents prove no such thing. There was a lot of
petty bickering on the issue. A Rabbi was
then wheeled on to give the "Thought for the Day" in which
he suggested that the world might be a better place without all the petty
bickering. I got to work with
no hold ups or delays today. Work was much the same as ever, but I did get to
spend a little time with one of the trainees explaining to her the
intricacies of human red cell metabolism and white cell function. I
used to do that all the time... do I miss it? I miss the teaching bit. I
certainly don't miss the paperwork that goes with it. With my bit done I
came home along roads which were nowhere near as busy as they were last
night. I took the dogs round the roads for a walk. Some houses have had
Christmas decorations up inside for some time; this evening I saw the first
full-blown garden Christmas display with illuminated snowman, inflatable
Santa, reindeer, lights and pressies. Don’t these people
realise that Santa shoots an elf for every Christmas decoration that goes up
in November? We came home, and
it wasn’t that long before "er indoors TM" came home.
She’d been Christmas shopping. A good bit of tea, and episode of “Junior
Bake Off”… I need an early night. |
|
29 November 2019
(Friday) - Healthcare, Penguins...
I was fast asleep when
my phone went off in the small hours. Someone had dialled the wrong number. Oh how I laughed. I shared my toast
crusts with Fudge as I watched another episode of “Man Down”. It’s
only the second episode, but I’m quite getting into the show. As I watched it
I sorted the socks and undercrackers that I’d tumble-dried last night. As
most of the world was still snoring I was organising my pants. There’s never
a dull moment in my life! Mind you the small
part of the world near my house didn’t snore long this morning. Friday is bin
day. The dustbin men *could* have been noisier if they’d tried, but it
would have taken some doing. With telly watched
I turned on my lap-top to see what had happened overnight. As I read Facebook
this morning I saw something which made me sit up and take notice. On
one of the work-related Facebook groups I follow were some photographs of
blood cells. Quite often there are such photographs of blood cells which are
malignant or dysplastic (manky) or just “odd”. The idea is that
by sharing such unusual cases we can all gain experience. The blood cells I
saw this morning were characteristic of acute leukaemia, but the patient in
question hadn’t presented at the GP as is usually the case. They had been
brought into a trauma centre with massive gunshot wounds (which turned out
to be self-inflicted). This case was one
from America. In the UK if you
are diagnosed with leukaemia there is often a reasonable chance of a recovery
(look at Clive James and Timothy Spall) because although the treatment
is very expensive, we have a national health service. Free health care. In America you pay
for your healthcare if you can afford it. And if you don’t you die.
Realistically shooting yourself is a far quicker and cheaper way to treat
leukaemia than to suffer a protracted death from an insidious cancer. Bear this in mind
when you are voting for a political party which is advocating for an
American-style way of funding healthcare… As I drove to work
the pundits on the radio were again drivelling on about political issues
and the upcoming election. There was quite a bit of consternation being
expressed about some interview panel on Channel Four last night in which the
Prime Minister declined to take part, and so they use a melting block of ice
as his stunt double. There was also
talk about how ecologists in Antarctica are monitoring penguin numbers and
movements by satellites. This is far less invasive and disturbing for
the penguins than having someone wander out to bother them. And a sight warmer
for the penguin counters too I dare say. Compared to the
traffic jams of earlier in the week I made good time to Maidstone. I stopped
off at Aldi; yesterday we had our "Secret Santa" draw and
seeing how I won't get many more chances to call in at Aldi before
Christmas (I'm working at Tunbridge Wells for the next few weeks) I
thought I'd better get the pressie today. I wondered about buying a "Kevin
the Carrot" toy. They were selling three-feet tall "Kevin
the Carrot"s - but who on Earth wants a three-feet tall "Kevin
the Carrot"? I bought a
different pressie. I paid for it, and got it in a cheapo carrier bag. The
cheapo carrier bags in Aldi can be used as bags in the food waste bins. I
like that idea - that way I can re-use it. I don't tend to re-use the other
carrier bags I get in Aldi - they just get stuffed into my locker at work.
interestingly there are calls to increase the prices of carrier bags
substantially (to over seventy pence each) as apparently the average
family has already bought and used over fifty-five so-called "bags
for life" this year. I went into work. During
a lull in proceedings I phoned Halfords in Ashford. As I drove this morning I
saw the reflection of my car - it looked as though one of the headlight bulbs
had gone. The nice man on the phone said he'd got a replacement, and would
fit it for me on my way home this evening. They did. And they
only charged me eight quid for doing so. Result!! |
|
30 November 2019
(Saturday) - Clowes Wood
Over brekkie as I
peered into the Internet I saw that the astro club had had a meeting last
night. Back in the day there would have been adverts about the meeting on all
the local community Internet forums and websites during the week before the
meeting, and Facebook would have been alive with posts and photos after such
a meeting. This doesn’t happen any more; there were just a couple of mentions
after the event on the club’s own Facebook page. Does that mean that the club
is moribund, or just that no one there bothers with social media any more? There were also
whinges on one of the geocaching pages. Having found a film pot under a rock,
some people haven’t been telling the world about it until months later. This
is their right, but such late logging has
actually been a problem for me on several occasions. Given a cache with a few
“can’t find it – is it missing?” reports, I then got a “Found It”
log. So I’ve automatically thought that the thing was there all along.
However the “Found it” log was been dated from nine months previously
and the cache was still actually missing. With "er
indoors TM" off to visit "Daddy’s Little Angel TM"
I loaded the dogs into the car and set off to Clowes Wood. There is a series
of geocaches there (would you believe it!) that in order to locate you
first need to have solved a “Jigidi” on-line jigsaw puzzle. Over the
last few months several people have grumbled about the puzzles… I must admit
to a degree of frustration with the things. It wasn’t that long ago when I
tried to set a puzzle cache using one of these Jigidi thingies. The reviewer
at the time (now long gone) very rudely told me that Jigidi wasn’t
allowed as it went against the rules. Geocaching HQ confirmed this. In the
meantime the specific rule that they mentioned hasn’t changed, but loads of
these Jigidi puzzles have appeared anyway. Perhaps it’s just me who isn’t
allowed to use Jigidi? Still, mustn’t grumble. They make for more
caches to find, and with fewer and fewer people bothering to hide them,
that’s never a bad thing. We soon met up
with Karl, Tracey and Charlotte, and had a rather good walk. We’ve been to
Clowes Wood before; being Forestry Commission land the paths are rather good
all year long so we didn’t get *that* grubby. Pogo was amazingly well
behaved, only shouting at one other dog and either ignoring or playing nicely
with the other hounds. Fudge was a little bit shouty, but he didn’t do his
usual trick of disappearing in pursuit of pheasants and being missing for
half an hour, so that was a good thing. And Treacle was quite content all the
time Karl was throwing sticks for her. We had a good walk
hunting for our little pots; we found all of them even if at one point we’d
transposed our co-ordinates and got a six and a nine the wrong way round. I took a few photos as we walked. Interestingly if you look
at the photos, have a look at the geo-tagging on the first two photos. Taken
in exactly the same place, one is recognised as being in Whitstable, and one
as being in Canterbury. From Clowes Wood
we drove into Whitstable. In February we’d called in to “The Monument”
and had dinner in the garden. We thought we might go there again for food. It
was a tad too cold for the garden today, but we had a good dinner
nonetheless. As we scoffed we
listened to the pensioners on the next table quarrelling about politics.
Bless them. We said our
goodbyes, and came home. It was a shame that one of the dogs had been sick in
the back of the car on the way home, but they had had quite a few treats as
we’d walked, and when in the pub I had been slipping them chips, and some of
the steak from my baguette. It didn’t take
that long to clear up dog vom. I spent five
minutes fighting with a broken telly; finally fixing it by putting new
batteries into the remote control, then spent a couple of hours doing the
ironing until "er indoors TM" came home. We scoffed tea, then "My Boy TM"
and Cheryl came round. They brought cakes… |
