|
1 October 2014
(Wednesday) – Waiting
My mobile rang at 5.30am this morning. "Daddies Little Angel TM"'s
waters had broken. I thought this was all rather exciting, but with a "been
there, done that" shrug "er
indoors TM" went back to kip for another hour or so. I got up, fed toast crusts to my dog and watched the next episode of
"Revolution". The series started well, but as time goes on I
find myself questioning the show's plausibility. Like any sci-fi show one can
go along with the patently unlikely scenarios if the characters are beleivable. But the leading protagonists have no
consistency. One moment they have a firm moral compass; the next they are carboard cut-outs doing whatever makes for a simplistic
plot. Having travelled miles to do right wrongs and stand up for the little
guys, today our main hero is trying to create anthrax-bombs to unleash on an
innocent public. Really? But with only four episodes to go I shall see it out till the end. Off to work... as I drove I tried to listen to the radio, but there
was hardly anything of note. I got petrol this morning; working on the
principle that with the littlun on the way I might
be better off with a full fuel tank rather than an empty one. I got to work, and did my bit. About mid morning I got the message
that "Team Maternity" had decamped to the hospital. Not the
one I was in; which was probably for the best. At lunchtime I got the message that the entire labour
process was on hold, and that "Team Maternity" was going
home until things started happening again. I didn't get much saxing done at lunch time; I spent much of the time
messaging here, there and thither This evening's walk with "Furry Face TM"
was interesting. We took his ball; and this time he wanted me to throw it for
him (a few times). Every time he chased it he got the ball fine when
it was still moving. When it stopped before he could get close he seemed to
have trouble finding it; even though it has an internal light and it glows.
I've often wondered if he has bad eyesight. And then I got a message from "er
indoors TM". Labour pains have
started again, and she is back off to the hospital with "Daddies
Little Angel TM". I am reliably informed there are sausages in the freezer... |
|
2 October 2014
(Thursday) - New Family Member
My phone beeped wih a message to wake me shortly
after 3.30am; the littlun was born at 3.12am. I
phoned my mother right away; I was under orders to do so as soon as I had
news, and I did so. She was wide awake and had been sitting up all night
waiting to hear. I messaged my brother and he replied right away; I guess he
was awake too. I did't get back to sleep after that, even
though I tried. I gave up trying to sleep and watched telly
until the first photos came through at 6am. As I drove to work I listened to the radio. . The Prime Minister has recently
announced that in the near future the general public will have access to GP
surgeries until 8pm every
night and at weekends too. There was an interview with one of the leading lights in the Royal
College of General Practitioners who explained that what with the
preponderance of GPs coming up to retirement and an inability to recruit, surgeries will be closing
due to lack of doctors rather than staying open later and longer. You'd think
the Prime Minister would talk to people before committing them to the
impossible, wouldn't you? There was also talk of the latest battles in the Middle East, and
about how the western world should negotioate
rather than fight. I must admit I didn't pay attention. My mind wandered
somewhat. Is it wrong of me to dismiss this news purely because it's not news
and there is *always* fighting in the Middle East? I got to work, parked up, and as I parked some prat wanted me to park
elsewhere so he could do some obscure horticultural thing on the grounds
nearby. I moved my car ten yards, and said prat wouldn't leave me alone; he
kept bothering me with explanations about what he was doing, and he followed
me for a couple of hundred yards making those explanations. On the morning of the birth of a grandchild I had several phone calls
to make. The last thing I needed was to be harangued by a gardener. After
smiling sweetly, making excuses, and finally flatly telling him to piss off I
just ignored him and made quite a few phone calls with this prat drivelling on in the background. From work I went to the hospital to meet
my new grandson.... |
|
3 October 2014
(Friday) - Forgetting the Late Shift
With all the excitement of the last day it's hardly surprising I slept
well last night. Over brekkie I watched "Revolution".
I've been somewhat disparaging about the show recently, but it's not bad
really. Off to work. It was a particularly foggy day today. As I drove I
listened to the radio. The burning issue of the day would seem to be the
Government's hopes to abolish
the Human Rights Act. Something which seriously boils my piss is the fact that more and more
these days I seem to be in agreement with the Government. Whilst in theory
the Human Rights Act is a vital and essential part of a decent society, in
practice it is being abused and is nothing more than a shield for the
despicable. There is something seriously wrong when murdering terrorists
cannot be brought to just ice because doing so contravenes their "human
rights". And one of the bosses of the John Lewis firm has made a rather savage
attack on the French; advising other businessmen not to invest in a country
where "nothing works" I'm no fan of the French, but even I though that was rather harsh. I stopped off at Morrisons for some
supplies. I bought their cheapo-jam which tastes exactly the same as their
normal jam but is half the price. I suppose some prefer the snob value of not
being seen to buy the cheapo-stuff. Me - I'm not proud. I also got a half-price bottle of Merlot; usually a tenner, this was a
fiver. I shall give it my sage opinion later. Whilst there I saw that Morrisons have
reduced their petrol prices since I got a tank-full yesterday. Mind you they
are still more expensive than Ashford. I got to work, and prepared to do my bit. But before I could do so I
was met with amazement by my colleague. What was I doing at work so early? I'd completely overlooked the fact I was on the late shift today. What
with the excitement of getting away promptly yesterday to see the baby I'd
not checked my shift. Woops. So with three hours spare I went off round Canterbury on a
geo-mission. There were three geocaches round Canterbury that I've looked for
before and have been unable to find. With little else to do and nothing
planned I thought I might try for these ones again. The first one was one I'd been given a little (great big) hint
about, and it wasn't where I was told it was supposed to be. I think it might
well have gone missing. They do that. The second was supposedly "inside a tree stump" but
there was only one tree stump in the vicinity and I couldn't find anything
inside that stump; nor could several previous searchers. Perhaps that one has
gone walkabout too. The third was one I'd twice before tried for; and this time it was
glaringly obvious. How could I have missed that? I was sure it wasn't there
last time. On opening the thing and reading the log inside it was clear I hadn't
missed it previously. With only one previous finder this cache had been
placed two weeks ago either by the C.O. or by the only other person to have
signed the log. But either way I've claimed it as a find. Flushed with success I then went to look for a fourth cache. I'd been
told this one was missing, and I would agree with that. I couldn't find it. So with a couple of hours productively wasted I set off to work where
I had a little sax practice before finally getting on with stuff rather later
than I'd intended. I did my bit, saxed some more at
lunch time, bit a bit more work, and came home some three hours later than
planned. Consequently I had no time at all for visiting baby. I wasn't very
pleased about that; but I have no one but myself to blame. Once home I put the lead onto "Furry Face TM"
and took him for a bit of a walk. As I walked I started to Ingress. Ingress
was (for a couple of months) a silly bit of fun. I would periodically
have a pop at what a local blue player was doing, and from time to time a
local blue player would have a pop back. There was balance, and it was fun. Not any more. I looked at the play-map this evening as we walked. What was once
green was now blue. Lots of blue. In fact hardly any green left at all. And
the ubiquitous blue was of such high level that I wouldn't have a hope trying
to play against it. I met a blue Ingresser kicking the last
dying breaths out of what I'd done over the last few weeks. Apparently there
is an organised bunch of higher level blue players
who delight in regularly meeting up and travelling to someone else's town to
smash up (in the game) and take over. Having ruined the fun of Ashfordians tonight
they are apparently off to Ramsgate and Maidstone en-masse
over the next week or so. It would seem that it's not enough that they should
win. Everyone else has to lose, and be seen to lose. I can remember teaching the cubs (aged eight) about good
sportsmanship... I've deleted the game from my phone. |
|
4 October 2014
(Saturday) - Wedding Anniversary
I was up with the lark this morning. As usual. But
for all that I seem to be in a routine of walking shortly after 5am these
days, it's a great improvement on 3am which once it was, so I'm not
complaining. I fussed my lttle dog and fed him my
toast crusts as I watched "Revolution". I had an email from Cotton Traders. Bearing in mind teh fiasco I had with their piss-poor walking shoes I'm
rather loathe to get anything from their mail order
service again. And looking at the email of bargains I have to admit that I
can get pretty much the same stuff (without the Cotton Traders logo)
cheaper from Matalan. I checked out social media. Facebook had wished me
well for my wedding anniversary today. That was nice of them. I also saw that
several people of my acquaintance were off to a "fun
run" today at Hever Castle. I say "fun run" because
that is the widely used phrase. But I have to question that phrase. Why do
people go running for sport or for a hobby. Have you
ever looked at any of these runners. They either
look miserable, knackered or in pain. I have *never* seen one who
actually appears to enjoy what they are doing. This was particularly brought home to me when I took
"Furry Face TM" for a walk round the park this
morning. There were dozens of joggers; all with faces like smacked arses. Not a single one looked as though they were in any
way remotely happy. My mummy and daddy called, and we drove down to Folkestone where the tribe gathered to spend the day
looking at the baby. The baby seemed pretty much oblivious of all the
attention he was getting; alternately feeding and sleeping. I suppose it's a
sign of the times that littlun had four
great-grandparents present. I only met one of mine. A few of us went for a quick walk to the harbour seafood stall; but it was raining and we got
soaked. With baby looked at we came home and had a rather
good bit of dinner as we caught up with stuff on the SkyPlus
box. And we had that bottle of plonk I'd got from Morrisons
yesterday. Not too shabby... |
|
5 October 2014
(Sunday) - A Walk, Sax Practice
After a bit of a late night last night I slept right through until aafter 6am this morning. "Furry Face TM"
was fast asleep as I watched the last episode of "Revolution".
I say "last episode"; it was the last episode on the SkyPlus box. There's a whole second season to be watched
somewhere. There's also a fourth season of "Game of Thrones"
somewhere that I'd like to see as well. With a little time on my hands I solved a geo-puzzle. This one is in
the general vicinity of where I plan to be walking in a few days time (weather permitting). I also failed to
solve half a dozen other geo-puzzles from the same area too. Maybe we might
see them as we walk by; it wouldn't be the first time I've found geocaches by
pot luck. I then fiddled about with AVG's PC tune-up
to see if I could get my lap-top to work a little better; the poor thing
wasn't top of the range when I got it, and it is struggling more and more
these days, with various windows freezing and not responding with annoying
regularity. AVG's PC tune-up found several thousand
problems which it offered to fix for me; and in a fit of foolish bravado I
let it do its thing. Let's hope for the best here. WIth laundry put
on the line I spent an entertaining few minutes listening to the neighbours arguing. I say "arguing"; she
was shrieking and he was shouting "I hate you". They do that
a lot. Mind you, for all that I sometimes wonder about the chap's state of
mind and don't really like the way she publically blanks me, the two of them
are a distinct improvement on the fundamentally evil pair who lived there
before. We then put the lead onto "Furry Face TM"
and went for a little walk. Parking the car in the general vicinity of
Bobbing (near Sittingbourne) we walked for
about five miles round the "Fruitcake's Follies" series of
geocaches. Some were easy to find, some tricky. One in particular was in an
"unusual container" ; from the previous
finder it was obvious what that container was. Interestingly the person
writing the spoiler in his log hadn't actually signed to say he'd actually
found the thing. As we walked "er indoors TM"
scoffed chestnuts; in fact she was so intent on scoffing chestnuts she didn't
realised she'd left her handbag at one of our
stops. It was a good little walk. I say "little"; at five
miles it's probably more than many people would consider little;
realistically me included at the moment. It's been several weeks since I last
did what I would call a "decent" walk. As always I took one
or two photos of our walk. We came home and had a cuppa. "My Boy
TM" visited with a present for his old Dad. He brought me
three French sticks. He'd found a bargain somewhere and remembered how much I
like the stuff. He's a good lad. I then had a little sax
practice. My dog didn't like it very much. And with a rather good bit of tea scoffed and "er indoors TM" off to lob bowling
balls at unsuspecting pins I ironed shirts whilst watching "Jeeves
and Wooster"... |
|
6 October 2014
(Monday) - Chairs, Surveys
Surprisingly on a day with no burning need
for me to be up early I managed to stay asleep until 7am. I may well have
slept longer had I not woken myself by getting tangled in the hose of my CPAP
device. Having watched all of “Revolution”,
over brekkie I watched “Extras” then took “Furry
Face TM “ for a walk. As we walked
through the park we found a few dining chairs arranged al-fresco. They were
broken and fit for the bin, but rather than putting them out for the dustmen,
someone had taken the trouble to carry them round to the park to leave them
there. We met Hannah from the astro
club as we walked by the lake; I reminded her that I was closing the astro club’s members’ survey this morning; she said she’d
better get on with offering an opinion and she pulled out her mobile. Five
minutes later my mobile pinged to tell me I’d received another survey
response. Presumably hers. I never fail to be amazed by the power of
these little mobile phones. As we reached the part of our walk furthest
from home so the rain started. We strolled across the Singleton Environment
Centre and it was there that we met another small dog. Fudge expressed his
friendship by brandishing his lipstick as only a small boy-dog can. I wish he
wouldn’t do that. We paid the vet good money to surgically stop that
nonsense. We came home through the top end of
Stanhope where a rather delightful gentleman (who *could* have been
mistaken for a scratter) was sitting on his
doorstep having a fag. This fellow was actually sitting on the doorstep in a
very loose dressing gown, with his “flowers and frolics” hanging out
for all to see. How charming. Once home “Furry Face TM “ took himself to his basket and went to sleep. I turned
on the PC and activated SurveyMonkey. In late July
I set up a survey to get people’s opinions about how the astro
club is going, and how we might improve. Our survey said…. Well, I won’t
publish the results here. I will say that in seventy days we had fifty
responses; most (pretty much all) of which were positive and
encouraging. Those who were less than gushing in their praise were those who
had only ever attended occasionally; which is what you might expect. I then took myself off to bed for the
afternoon, and slept like a log until I was woken by a phone call from some
twat whose records told him that I had a frozen pension. I told him that my
records told me that he should stick his records up his arse. I found it very
odd that I had to repeat this several times before he got the message. Now being awake I got up (taking care to
let a certain sleeping dog lie) and I went downstairs. I got out my sax;
thinking that I might get a quick toot in. Unfortunately “Furry Face TM
“ was also feeling musical and he
came and sang along. Having seen the video I posted yesterday I’m not sure
which of the two of us is worst. I’m off to work now. Night shift…. |
|
7 October 2014
(Tuesday) - After the Night Shift
I've not done a night shift for a while; I quite
liked doing the night shift last night. The only real disadvantage was that I
was coming home through the rush hour traffic. I might just have to look at
planning a different route home for next time. Once home I wasn't quite sure about how to organise my day, so faced with a rather enthusiastic dog
I put the collar and lead onto "Furry Face TM"
and took him for a little walk. We went down to Park Farm where I had a
little look-see to check that my "Park Farm Pootle"
series of geocaches were all OK. They were. Fortunately for my nerves today's walk was
relatively uneventful. Fudge tried to "do his lipstick" to a
boy dog ten times his size, we met a pug puppy, all very quiet really. Mind
you I did have a wry smile as we came through Park Farm. As we walked along a
pavement we heard a frantic shrieking. "Look out, look out"
screamed a woman being dragged along the path at a gallop by a dog which was
the size of the average Polar Bear. Why do people have dogs which are so
large that they cannot control them.
I got up; there's no denying I wasn't feeling
especially lively. So I watched a film about the family
life of a lesbian couple. It was billed as a comedy-drama. For all that
it was entertaining enough there was precious little comedy about it. One of the actors
looked incredibly familiar and I spent much of the film wondering what I'd
seen him in. Having looked him up on the Internet I can only think I'm
confusing him with someone else. Martin called round, and we walked round to Romney
Road where, once the clans had gathered, I stayed awake through another
episode of "The 100". With only about seventy still
surviving I have absolutely no idea what's going on. But an evening spent
with old muckers is always good. Our walk home brought us past the chip shop (by
some odd coincidence). I was rather miffed to find it was closed... |
|
8 October 2014
(Wednesday) - Wet, Broke...
I suppose its not
really surprising that I slept quite well last night; woken only once by "er indoors TM" snoring. Over brekkie I watched "The Last
Ship"; a post-apocalyptic drama about a microbiology lab on a US
naval ship trying to make a cure to a worldwide plague. The first episode
seemed watchable enough. I shall give it a go and see how it pans out. My Ham Street Lover called shortly after 8am and we took "Furry
Face TM" for a walk. Shorne Shenanigans is a series of forty geocaches
laid out on two loops over some eight miles. The weather wasn't looking too
good, but with the promise of it brightening up later we thought we might
walk the series in reverse order doing the smaller loop first. If the weather
didn't chirp up we could abandon the walk. We set off into a rather bright looking morning but... what can I say?
To cut a long story short the weather didn't chirp up. It chirped
down. I can't really remember ever having been wetter, and I've fallen in
ponds and rivers. We had a good laugh, we found all the geocaches we set out
to find, Steve even got one or two chestnuts, but there's no denying that the
weather could have been better. It wasn't long before we were soaked to the
skin. Even little "Furry Face TM" looked like a
seal, and he was actually whinging and crying
because he was so wet. As is always the case we didn't get to the point where we needed to abandon
until we were at the furthest point of the walk from the car. When we got
back to the car we were sodden. I poured the water out of my boots (literally
about a pint), wrapped a shivering dog in a towel, and we came home to
warm up. With "Furry Face TM" finally settled and
happy I drove down to Folkestone to spend an hour
or so with "Daddies Little Angel TM"
and the baby. We all of us dozed for some of that time. After a while I came
home; as I walked back to my car I was harangued for a fag by a passing scratter. Before I drove off to come home I plugged my phone into the car
charger to give it some juice; nothing happened. Once home I tried different
batteries and different chargers. It seems to have lost the ability to charge
its battery. I contacted the insurance people. The new phone arrives
tomorrow... We had a good bit of tea tonight, it was a
shame that in the process of boiling up the scran
the grill support in the cooker collapsed. I've had a go at bodging it back but whetever it
is inside the cooker that the screw fits in to has
gone. I shall see if I can get a slighttly fatter
screw (oo-er!) or a new cooker. Phone, cooker.. they
say these things come in threes. i
wonder what will be next. |
|
9 October 2014
(Thursday) – Waiting
Despite a decent night's sleep I woke feeling rather
restless; a nagging feeling that I had forgotten something important. I
watched "Family Guy" over brekkie
whilst my dog slept, and then I checked out the Internet. I had email. I have
an email alert set up to tell me when new geocaches go live within thirty
miles of home. Some had gone live this morning; but at twenty (ish) miles distant they were too far away to chase
First to Finds. But they were the first to go live this month, and its the ninth of October today. It wasn't that long ago
that it was unusual *not* to get one or more of these notification
emails every day. Either the general public is losing interest in stashing
sandwich boxes under rocks, or Kent is reaching saturation point. I would have put the lead onto "Furry Face TM"
and taken him for a walk right after brekkie, but I
had a delivery from which I had to sit in and wait. That wasn't something
that I could explain to a Patagonian Tripe-Hound, and as I watched the telly my little dog did whinge
a little. We watched all sorts of drivel from the SkyPlus
box. I washed laundry. I even put my collection of souvenir pint glasses (from
ten years of beer festivals) through the dishwasher. The delivery was due
at some stage between 9am and 1pm; the chap arrived with my new phone at
1.15pm, which was rather frustrating. On activating the new phone immediately wanted to
update all its on-board apps; all the ones I never use and don't want but
don't dare delete. By the time I'd then downloaded apps for GMX, NeonGeo, AVG, Red Alert Screensaver and the Kindle book I was
reading I really needed to get a bit of sleep prior to tonight's night shift.
I had to leave personalising
the phone properly until another time. In a change to what has gone before I set off to sax
lesson. On a Thursday (!) This is the new time for sax lessons; it suits both
me and teacher better. the lesson went well, and I
then set off to the night shift. Via Morrisons
where I found myself at the checkout behind someone who had bought twelve
packets of Haribo Fangtastic
and two bottles of whiskey... I wish I bought shopping like that. |
|
10 October 2014
(Friday) - Poorly Pup
I expect things will change, but at the moment I quite like doing
night shifts. I did my bit overnight, and with my bit done I then had my
orders. A geo-pal had some chests of drawers that were surplus to
requirements. The most recent fruit of my loins didn't have enough chests of
drawers. I had the wherewithal to chauffeur chests of drawers around the
county. From work it was a surprisingly short distance to Seasalter
where I loaded up the larger two chests of drawers. I activated Google maps
and was very surprised to find that Folkestone was
a lot closer than I thought it was; I didn't realise
that Seasalter is (almost) due north of Folkestone. I chauffered
furniture to "Daddies Little Angel TM",
got given brekkie, cuddled the littlun,
and went back to Seasalter for the second
consignment. I didn't take those to Folkestone; they are
in the back of my car still. For all that the journey from the north Kent
coast to the south Kent coast was shorter than I thought; I'd still driven
eighty miles more than I had been planning to do this morning. I came home and found a very subdued dog still wrapped in the blanket
that "er indoors TM"
had wrapped him in earlier. He didn't get up to see me, he just looked at me.
I fussed him a little, and took myself off to bed. I slept for several hours, got up and thought I'd take "Furry
Face TM" for a walk. Usually he goes mental at the sight
of the lead, jumping and squeaking. He didn't this time; he just trudged over
to me. As we walked he didn't pull once which is rather unlike him. He showed
absolutely no interest in chasing his ball; when I threw it he sat down and
looked at me. I noticed that despite being very warm he was shivering. We went round to the vets. His temperature is OK, the vet says he is
walking OK and there is nothing palpable in his tummy or his joints. There is
nothing to which the vet can assign a malady name at the moment. He is eating and drinking which is a good sign, especially in a dog
which is very fussy about what he will eat. But he is periodically shivering
and is clearly under the weather. Vet says it might be just a viral thing (the
dog equivalent of a cold) or it might be the start of something else. Vet
says to keep an eye on him. Vet didn't actually say I was over-reacting and
clucking like a mother hen, but I got the impression he was thinking that. Over a rather good bit of tea (mostly spent fussing a poorly dog) we caught up with more stuff recorded onto
the SkyPlus box. Downton Abbey and the Great
British Bake-Off. It was only a shame I'd already heard who won the bake-off
on the radio last night... |
|
11 October 2014
(Saturday) - Still Poorly
The night shift had taken its toll, and I slept like a log; finally
waking shortly after 8am. I came down to find my dog
in his basket. He was still shivering and when he saw me he started crying. I
offerd him some milk; he had a little. I sent him
outside for a tiddle; he went slowly. I phoned the
vets and got an appointment for 9.45am. Fudge clearly wanted to walk when he
saw his collar and lead, but he walked oh-so-slowly. When I tried to hurry
him (as he dawdled across the zebra crossing) he cried. We didn't have long to wait at the vets. If anyone saw me blubbing in
the waitng area as I cuddled my dog they didn't say
anything. We saw a young girl vet who looked young enough to be my daughter.
She was excellent - she gave "Furry Face TM" a
good once-over. He seemed OK, but for the shivering and panting. But the vet
soon found that he whimpered whenever she manipulated his mid-back; just at
the base of his ribs. It's apparently quite common that longer dogs get bad
backs in that region. My dog's got a bad back. Just like his Grandad. It all fits now. It's been a while since he
jumped up onto our bed at night. He whinges for
cuddles but struggles to jump up onto my lap. He won't jump over stiles when
we are walking any more. He *really* has trouble getting into the car. The vet gave him a shot of anti-inflammatory drugs and a shot of
morphine to releive the pain. We have some stuff to
give him after meals, and he has a follow-up appointment booked on Wednesday.
As we came out of the vets I could see torrential rain so I carried my little
dog home. Once home I towelled him off and he ate
his brekkie (which was a good sign), curled
up in his basket and was soon snoring like a train. I sat on the sofa and blubbed. Did I ever
mention that I never wanted a dog? We left the little pup snoring as we set off to the monthly meet-up of
the county's tupperware hunters. My initial plan
was a flying visit to the meet and then to actually go hunting tupperware with anyone who was up for a hunt. But the
weather was against us. The day's weather was very deceptive; glorious
sunshine was always followed (within five minutes) by torrential rain.
So instead we stayed inside and chatted with like-minded people. Talking tupperware hunting is always good, and I was really
touched by the number of people who asked after my little dog. I explained to young Harry that rather than politely selling raffle
tickets he would make far more money by demanding money with menaces, and
then having won a decent haul at his raffle we set off for home. We did find one geocache on the way home, and we came home to find
"Furry Face TM" was still under the weather. I
say "under the weather"; I'm not convinced he wasn't still morphined. Mind you he wasn't too zoned out that he let
me practice my saxophone; he had quite a howl when I started tooting. "Furry Face TM" ate some of his tea; I
opened a tin of sardines for him, and he ate half of the tin; specifically
the half which I fed him by hand; piece by piece. "er indoors TM" went off to film night, and I put on the telly. "Big Bang Theory" and "The
Last Ship" made for good viewing. Whilst I watched telly I kept an eye on my little dog. He slept for much
of the evening, but did have the occasional whinge. I hope he gets better soon... |
|
12 October 2014
(Sunday) - The Pants of Death
A decent night's sleep was rudely interrupted at 6.30am when I had a
phone call from someone in Rye who announced that they were a wrong number
and hung up. I came down to see my little dog was wandering round the living
room. I let him out for a tiddle; he came back in,
and for all that overnight he'd eaten the tea he hadn't eaten yesterday, he
didn't seem at all interested in his brekkie. He
turned his nose up at the crusts of my toast too. Being wide awake some hours earlier than I needed to be, and being at
something of a loose end I got the ironing board out and ironed for an hour
or so. Periodically "Furry Face TM" whimpered.
I'm not sure if he was actually still in pain, or if he's doing it for
attention. If he is attention-seeking, it's certainly working. As I ironed I watched the telly. "Carry
on Again Doctor" was on. Forty five years ago (when it was made)
Sid James slapping young ladies (and laughing) on the arse was seen as harmless fun. Nowadays people are going
to prison for doing that. I found myself watching the film not for
entertainment, but as an example of how much social
attitudes have changed in the last few years. With ironing done I was soon going stir-crazy. Little pup was not
allowed to go for a walk (vet's orders) and by the time "er indoors TM" got up I was bored
senseless. Eventually we set off to Follkestone to
deliver the last of the furniture I collected on Friday and to see the baby.
We weren't alone in going to visit the littlun; we
had quite a convocation of the family. We had gone
to Folkestone via Tesco, and as we saw the littlun we had coffee and doughnuts of three flavours; jam, cheese & onion and salt & vinegar
(really!) We had a little stroll to the harbour for
cockles; I wound up larger grand-children by defeating them with my pants of
death. A good time was had by all. (Except for those defeated by the pants
of death) On the way home we stoped off at the coastal
park to get the final bits of info needed for the Earthcache
there for International Earthcache Day (it's a
geocaching thing), and came home. I'd hoped my dog had had a quiet day. I
supose he had, but he was excited to see us, and
being an "immediate" kind of dog he charged to see us and
put his back out some more. Silly pup. And with "er indoors TM"
off bowling (and all my ironing already done) I settled in front of
the telly to watch "Jeeves and Wooster".
What else does one do on a Sunday evening? |
|
13 October 2014
(Monday) - Off to Birmingham
I came down to find my little dog had had a little accident on the
carpet overnight. He also seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. He
seemed to be chirping up last night; this morning he seemed rather ill. He
was struggling to hobble about. I went off to work with a heavy heart and
spent the morning worrying about the little pup. I would have come home for him at lunch time, but I was under orders
to go to a course in Birmingham tomorrow. Rather than rushing up i nthe morning I'd arranged to
go up this afternoon and take my time. The fact that there were two webcam
caches on the way was neither here nor there(!) The first webcam cache was in Banbury. I'd
never been there before, and was rather dubious about the place. A Welshman I
once met had told me that he's been to Banbury on a
day trip and had been beaten up by the locals. I arrived, parked up, and was
told by the parking attendant that no parking fees were applicable that late
in the day. I thought that was very nice, pootled
off to do the webcam thing, and came back to find my car had been imprisoned
inside a load of parking barriers. This same parking attendant then started
blustering about the car park space being needed for a fun fair. I ignored
him and dragged enough barriers out of the way so that I could drive out, and
I drove out; giving the chap the "V" sign as I went. The next webcam cache was at the Student Union at Warwick University.
Other than students swarming and torrential rain, this one went mostly
uneventfully. I then made my way to the guest house I had booked some months ago. In
all honesty these two webcam caches had only added half an hour to my
journey, but despite road works and delays a journey billed as being one of
three hours took just over five hours. I got to the Highworth Guest House, What can I
say.... It's rather basic, but I knew that before I started. What I didn't
know was that the promised dedicated parking simply doesn't exist. The
advertised Sky TV features a range of satellite channels but not the Sky
ones. The (rather small) towel in my room was still damp from the
room's previous occupant. The wi-fi's functioning
was was sporadic at best. Despite a rather poor grasp of spoken English the landlady offered to
cook me up an evening meal, and I scoffed a rather good plate of home made curry. I then went for a little stroll despite
the rain. There was a geocache not two hundred yards from the guest house,
and it would be daft not to have gone for it. "er indoors TM" phoned. She had taken a very ill little dog
to the vets. The bad back was much worse than they thought as he seems to
have lost the use of his back legs. The vet was now suspecting a slipped
disc, and this meant referral to a specialist vet in Surrey. "My Boy TM"
drove "er indoors TM"
and "Furry Face TM" to this vet whilst I was
stuck in Birmingham watching the latest new thing on the telly;
"Gotham". I've only seen the first episode so far, but "Gotham"
seems quite good so far. It does seem rather overloaded with references thatt may well fly over the heads of people who haven't
read every single Batman comic book, but perhaps that's why I liked it With Gotham watched the phone rang. The dog spinal specialist had
given "Furry Face TM" a
once-over. He has a grade two spinal injury but given rest there is an
eighty-five percent chance of recovery without surgery. Mind you "rest"
means enforced rest. And lots of it. The poor pup is to be locked in a
dog-crate for six weeks and only allowed out for tiddles,
poops, scof and cuddles. He'll go stir-crazy.. |
|
14 October 2014
(Tuesday) - Back Home Now
Yesterday evening I mentally prepared myself for a bad night's sleep.
The rather noisy young lovers upstairs finally gave up fornicatiing
shortly before 11pm, and soon after that the dreadful Bollywood music came to
an end. And the noisy neighbours stopped shouting
at each other well before midnight. I got a few hours sleep, but it was amazing
how much nocturnal noise was generated in a rather small guest house in the early
hours. People were crashing and clumping about from 4am onwards. And after
experiencing the melodious farting fanfare from the communal lavatory just
down the landing (at 5.30am) I gave up trying to sleep and got up. I'd been asked what time I wanted my full English breakfast; I'd said
7am. Bearing in mind my experiences so far I walked into the dining room at
7am expecting the worst. There were three sugar bowls round the dining room;
all empty. The breakfast... wasn't overly generous and it did give me guts
ache. It is possible I have been just the teensiest bit harsh on the Highworth Guest House. After all is said and done,
the place isn't especialy bad; the room I was in
was comfortable enough. I can't really complain when I only paid forty quid.
What I got was fine; it was just rather disappointing that they made a lot of
promises that they didn't keep. And bearing in mind the incredibly bad standard of spoken English demostrated by the landlady there was absolutely no point
in trying to quibble about FreeView being different
to Sky TV, or about a sink not constiuting "en-suite" or about the non-existant off-street parking or about the wet used towel
or about the rather rubbish wi-fi. From the guest house to my meeting was only a short drive; but bearing
in mind the meeting was at the confluence of several motorways I thought the
traffic might be bad. So pausing only briefly to pick up a Midlands geocache
I arrived at the National Motorbike Museum a little earlier than I might have
got there. Once at the meeting I met up with a couple of old muckers
and we spent most of the day together. I will blog elsewhere about the
specifics of the meeting; suffice it to say that I stayed awake for most of
it. I got away from the meeting at 4.30pm; the Sat-Nav
told me that it would take three hours (and five minutes) to get home.
Including a geo-stop at the M40 services the journey took nearly five hours.
There's no denying that this meeting has been rather hard work. Or, to be
specific, the meeting was fine; the journey was hard work. But then I had allieviated much of the pain
of the journey by making it into a geo-mission. With caches found in four new
counties, two webcam caches done, and a new "furthest north"
find, the hours spent in traffic queues on various motorways were far more
bearable. I came home, bandied a few insults with the gathered clans, and then
made a fuss of my little dog. We have acquired a cage in which he will (mostly)
live for the next two months until his back gets better. He seems quite
settled in there. I'm not settled about him being in there though... |
|
15 October 2014
(Wednesday) - The Brown Note
I suppose the road trip to the West Midlands had
taken its toll. I slept like a log last night; not waking till gone 6am. I
came downstairs quietly and found my little dog soundly asleep in his cage. I
let him out over brekkie, and he sat on my lap
where he scoffed the crusts off of my toast. I should really stop letting him
do that; during this forced inactivity he's going to put on weight. As I drove to work I listened to the news. The ebola pandemic is getting to be a serious concern now
that the western world seems to be being threatened.Perhaps next
time those of us who could actually help might do so sooner? But (as is so often the case) one of the most
important issues went mostly un-noticed. There are moves afoot to have smoking banned in
all London parks. There was an interview with one of the leading
lights in the campaign to get smoking banned. The same bunch
are also campaigning to have fast food establishments banned from
being allowed to set up in the general vicinity of schools. The chap on the
radio actually said that they are hoping to have no fast food outlet within
four hundred metres of any school because (apparently)
it is an established fact that the average schoolchild does not walk more
than four hundred metres from their school. When I was a lad I used to walk three miles to
school every morning, and three miles back home again in the evening. Perhaps
reinstating walking to school might go a long way to combat childhood obesity
and would be easier and simpler for the government than fighting with big
businesses. Once at work I chased up the ENT
secretaries about my proposed nasal re-bore. Finally I have a date for the
operation; November 4th. A little more notice to re-arrange shifts would have
been nice; and wouldn't have been too unreasonable for them to arrange
bearing in mind they've known about this operation being pending for some
months; but what do I know. At lunchtime I had a sax practice; what with trips
to Brum, visiting baby and ill pups I've let my saxing slip recently. I really need to get back on the
case there. Today's practice was somewhat iffy. Rather than playing low C I
think I nearly (but not quite) got the Brown Note. (For those of my loyal readers who don't watch
South Park the Brown Note is a musical note so low in pitch that when anyone
hears it they involuntarily sh*t themselves to
death) This evening I really should have gone to the astro club committee meeting. But I was rather late home
yesterday evening, and wasn't home at all on Monday evening. I really wanted
to sit with my poorly dog tonight; and that's what I
did. With "er indoors TM"
off out to one of the meetings of the association of certified candlemongers I tried to explain to a sulking Patagonian
Tripe-Hound exactly why he's been imprisoned for the next six weeks. I don't think he understood... |
|
16 October 2014
(Thursday) - In A Dress
"Furry Face TM" seemed marginally more sprightly when I let him out of his cage this
morning. He pootled round the garden but didn't
seem to do much in the way of things that little dogs are supposed to do when
they are taken outside. Over brekkie I watched the latest South Park
episode; in order to get better lavatorial
facilities today's episode featured Eric Cartman
announcing that he was becoming transgender. Interestingly the morning's radio news also featured an interview with
a transgender person who had become a lawyer. This person was discussing the
allegations about a radio presenter having left his job after announcing that
he was changing from
one flavour to another. Personally I can't really say it bothers me one way or another what
someone is or what they want to be. But it does bother me that the
pro-transgender brigade really can't understand why the general public cannot
help but be surprised when confronted with such a person. I can remember when
the first fruit of my loin met a transgender person for the first time. He
was five years old. What he encountered really did look like a twenty-stone navvie wearing a dress. Whilst I fully support anyone's right to appear as whatever gender
they want; that person must also understand that what they are doing isn't
"usual" and will initially attract stares. The radio also featured the news that the green lobby
are up in arms. Following the sacking of the ex-environment minister,
said ex-environment minister has now become an advocate against the climate
change lobbyists. He was on the radio rallying against what he called the
"wicked
green blob" and was hankering after a majority Conservative
government which would see the sense in putting personal financial gain ahead
of decency and common sense. If nothing else, having the Dribbling Democraps
in a coalition government has curbed the excesses of personal greed that have
historically characterised "another
political party". I got to work, did my bit on a rather busy day, blew my sax at lunch
time, and came home via the music school for sax lesson. Sax lesson went
well; I've got a couple of traditional tunes for this week's homework in
addition to one I've never heard before. I came home to find that "er indoors
TM" had let "Furry Face TM"
out of his cage. When he saw me he started to run toward me, managed two
steps and then yelped in pain. I wish I could explain to him that he needs to
take things easy... |
|
17 October 2014
(Friday) - Goose on the Razzle
Again I slept until 6am. I like this; for me this
really is a lie-in. I got up and my little dog was still asleep. He woke when
he saw me and I tried to shush him, but he would insist on leaping up. With
his bad back he should really be like me and get up slowly, but there is no
reasoning with him. I took him out to the garden where he did his thing;
fortunately (unlike last night) didn't try to chase any cats this time. It's been suggested that "Furry Face TM"
might benefit from seeing a canine chiropracter....
It's not that long since I would have ranted here about the entire concept of
a "canine chiropracter". But he
has an appointment with the vet tomorrow. We'll see what they say on the
subject. As I drove to work I noticed that petrol prices are
nearly two pence per litre cheaper than I paid on
Monday. A shame; I could have squandered that eighty pence I might have saved
on vet bills. It's unusual for Morrisons to be
beaten on petrol prices. Talking of which, supermarkets were very much in the
news today: a blind woman was ordered to get her guide dog
out of a branch of Tescos, whilst two amorous
young ladies have caused consternation (and complaints) by their snogging
(each
other)
in Sainsbury's Personally I wouldn't have a problem with either,
but given the choice I know which I would rather have in my supermarket. I got to work for the early shift, did my bit, and
then at lunchtime I had a go at the new tunes I've been given to learn for
this weeks saxophone homework. I can do a fair
rendition of "The Drunken Sailor" but it could be faster.
"Greensleeves" comes unstuck on
the sharps in several places. But the tune which is new to me - "Goose
on the Razzle" - really does sound like a goose which has been on
the razzle. I can't honestly say I'm entirely sure what the tune of "Goose
on the Razzle" should be, but I'm pretty sure I've not quite
mastered it yet. And finding myself home along (yet) again I
spent the evening firstly ironing shirts and then fussing a small pup.
Sometimes he seems to be perking up; other times he seems rather under the
weather. I'm wondering what six weeks enforced rest will do... |
|
18 October 2014
(Saturday) - Bit Dull
Having been gloating about how well I've been sleeoping I was wide awake from 3am this morning.
Probably worrying about "Daddies
Little Angel TM" who's been poorly again. I got up at 6am and let "Furry Face TM"
out for his morning tiddle which today was
performed with a cocked leg (rather than as a squat). I am seeing that
as a very good sign. I then set off to work before dawn, and as I drove a
very red sky became rather evident as the sun rose. Remembering the old adage
"Red sky in morning, shepherd's warning" I can only imagine
that the red sky warns shepherds of coming good weather; I spent much of the
morning looking out of teh window at a lovely day. As I drove the pundits on the radio were being mean
about UKIP's latest (only) MP. Having left the
conservative party he was being lambasted about all the things he once said
as a tory that now he seems to have gone back on. I must admit that I can't
help but agree with the chap when he said that changing circumstances made
him change his mind. If only more people would admit when they think they've
made a mistake then the world might be a better place. I stopped off at Morrisons
for lunch. I paid for my stuff in the self service
tills. I didn't want to, buut I was turned away
from the attended tills; today they were being used by Morrison's staff who were getting their shopping. I can't helpp but wonder if using an attended till is a perk of
the job, or a sign that management doesn't trust its workers? And so to work. Usually I don't mind working at
weekends, but my heart wasn't in it today. Possibly because I was missing the
annual spectacle of Hastings bonfire parade. I came home to find the fmaily were all out at the bonfire. Mind you my little
dog was pleased to see me. He's been to the vet's today. He had his booster
shot and a quick once-over. The feeling is that a canine chiropracter
wouldn't be much help in his particular case. Rest remains to be the order of
the day. I let him out for his tiddle,
and he rushed off down the garden barking like a thing possessed. What a
difference a week makes... |
|
19 October 2014
(Sunday) – Hucking
What with all the excitement of working yesterday it was gone 9pm
before I got home last night. By the time I'd scoffed tea and fussed "Furry
Face TM" it was getting on for midnight. I did snigger
when "Furry Face TM" started chasing flies round
the kitchen. A week ago he literally couldn't move; now he's a lot more sprightly. Allowing for a quick nocturnal loo-trip I slept in until 9am, and was
just the teensiest bit disappointed to wake up to rain. But by the time I'd
got dressed the rain had stopped. I voomed up to
the corner shop to get a loaf (we'd run out) and I saw something
unusual. One of the normal people was walking his dog. Said dog had "dropped
its load" and the normal person was clearing up the mess. Just
lately I see so many people letting their dogs crap everywhere; it was good
to see someone not leaving bombs behind. We had brekkie, and then settled "Furry
Face TM" into his cage. He's getting better but we're
going to enforce his resting. We then rallied the troops and set off to Hucking for a short stroll. There was a minor hiccup when
some of the troops announced they were already at the start point; I'd been
rather vague about times; in retrospect I could have been rather more clear about the time we were leaving Ashford as
opposed to the time we were starting walking. But eventually we were all together for a little geo-stroll. Compared
to some of the extravaganzas we've done over the summer, today's walk was
rather tame. But it's been a little while since we've been out, and it never
hurts to break ourselves in slowly. We set off with eleven geo-targets and
hoped we might get one or two extras along the way. We ended up with
seventeen finds and no DNFs ("Did Not
Find" - it's a geo-thing). The Hucking estate is a great place for a
little stroll; leaving aside the wonderful name (it hucking
well is called "Hucking"!) there were
some wonderful views to be had. As we walked we found some rather good arty
wood carvings including a living log, a shepherd, and a herd of pigs. We also met some other geocachers too; Kim
and Andy had mentioned that they thought they'd spotted a likely looking
pair, and as we went round we met up (several times) with the "Otford Strollers". When you sign a
geo-log you sign with your geo-pseudonym. There are so many wonderful names
I've read over the years; it was good to finally put faces to one of the
names today. Interestingly they recognised me
immediately. Everyone always does; I wonder why? We'd been advised to wear wellies today; it was as well that we did.
The ground was *very* muddy. I was glad for the chance to test out my
boots. The last time I wore my wellies I ended up pouring a pint of water out
of them after that walk; today they didn't leak at all. I took some
photos whilst we were out. It's been a little while since I put up a
Facebook album. After a rather good bit of tea I settled down with my dog and we
watched the
League of Gentlemen film. In all honesty I was disappointed with it... |
|
20 October 2014
(Monday) - One Hundred FTFs
Having been gloating about how well I was sleeping last week I was
again wide awake far too early this morning. The insides of my sinuses had
swollen beyond belief; this promised surgical re-boring of my snout can't
come quickly enough. I came down and opened the gate of "Furry Face TM" 's cage; he carried on snoring. I did my morning
routine, and over a spot of brekkie I saw a series
of twenty-four geocaches had gone live quite near to work. With my dog still on the resting list I had no morning dog walk to do.
I did have a geo-plan already for the morning, but I scrapped that plan and
thought I'd go chase some First to Finds. (The sadder ones among the
geocaching community do that!) As I drove the pundits on the radio were crucifying some twit from the
Home Office. Anti-social behaviour orders (ASBSOs) are to be replaced with Criminal
Behaviour Orders (CRIMBOs) The experts being interviewed had very little confidence in the new CRIMBOs; they will be the same old piss in a different
shaped bottle (apparently) and held in contempt by the majority of scratters and scumbags who fell foul
of the old system and who currently feel it's actually clever to have an ASBO. The radio show then featured an interview
with Professor Brian Cox. Supposedly giving his views on the likelihood
of meeting aliens, foxy-Coxy wittered
on in a rather banal way without actually saying anything at all. He seems to
be rather good at that. Eventually I arrived in Harbledown. I popped
on my wellies and set off on a little stroll. For various geo-reasons I
needed to find seven geocaches today; having First to Finds was a rather nice
bonus. The first one I found was about twenty-five yards away from where the
GPS would have me believe, and the third one was
especially tricky, but I got the seven caches that I needed. As luck would
have it the last one was actually my one hundredth First to Find. Happy dance
indeed. I didn't really have enough time to do the entire series; and it's
only fair to give others the chance of an FTF or
two, so having gone entirely the wrong direction for half a mile or so I
retraced my steps back to the car. I'll go find the rest another time. Once de-booted I then set off to McDonalds for a celebratory McBrekkie, and then on to a surprisingly busy day at
work. Lunchtime sax practice went reasonably well. I'm quietly (noisily)
confident with "Greensleeves",
feel I can do something with "The Drunken Sailor" (oo-er!), and have all but given up with
"Goose on the Razzle"... I suspect most people give up with geese on the razzle. |
|
21 October 2014
(Tuesday) – 4000
What with working at nights and at weekends, new babies being born,
trips to Birmingham and dogs with slipped discs it's all been a bit much
recently. So today I took a day off work; I needed a rest. As always I woke
far too early and by the time "er indoors TM"
got up three hours later I was bored senseless. I surfed the net in boredom. I
discovered this. This Saturday there's a bus trip round some of the
better pubs in the Dover and Deal area. I'm rather tempted to join in; the organiser has said that everyone is welcome. If any of my
loyal readers fancy a pint or two this weekend why not come along... With "er indoors TM"
ready we set off on the mission of the day. One of my geo-goals is to find
more Wherigo geocaches than I've hidden. Wherigos take quite a bit of setting up, and they aren't
at all common. I've hidden five of the things, and today we set off in
pursuit of my fourth one to be found. We very nearly fell at the first hurdle
as the software would not work on Samsung Android phones (neither mine nor
that of "er indoors TM")
but in a novel break with tradition the iPhone came to the rescue. We Wheri-wandered around Faversham
for just over an hour discovering all sorts of places that I've never before
been to, and finding out all sorts of things about the place that I never
knew. We even got a couple of Munzees along the
way. But eventually we came to our goal; something of a milestone geocache
for me; my four thousandth find. Whilst in Faversham we visted
the home-brew shop and got the makings of some beer for Christmas, and then
having spectacularly failed to find two more geocaches we set off for home.
We stopped of in Badlesmere
to see what the pub there was like. I've heard bad things about the Red Lion in the
past, but I was very impressed with what we experienced today. Good ale, good
food... we may well just organise a mass trip out
there at some point. We came home via Eastwell church and Lidls, and then had coffee and cake as we watched an
episode of "Doctor Who" that we'd recorded onto the SkyPlus box a couple of weeks ago. It was rather good. Then, being Tuesday, the clans gathered. We drove round to Arden
Drive; usually we would walk, but today we'd seen the weather go from being
completely clear to torrential and back to clear in moments, and we didn't
want to get caught in a downpour. As is often the case insults were bandied, spell checkers were blamed,
and it would all have been a lot easier had some of us more respect for
algebra (!) I actually stayed awake for an episode of "The 100",
and there was a discussion about in which film(s) Stacey (of
"Gavin and Stacey") flopped them out. And in closing today I'd like to thank my loyal readers for all the
messages of support I've received recently. Over the last week or so I've
been really touched by all the kind words people have sent me about my little
dog. "Furry Face TM" would seem to be on the
mend now. After a tiddle-trip to the garden this
evening he jumped over the back door step when coming in; he leaped onto my
lap earlier, and he's even tackled the stairs for the first time in two
weeks. We're still enforcing rest by caging him when he's unsupervised (much
to his disgust) but I'm hoping that surgery is looking less and less
likely. Mind you both me and him are missing his
walks... |
|
22 October 2014
(Wednesday) - Boobs, Brushes, FTF
I slept for six or so hours last night; not bad at all. But I woke
with a sense of foreboding; I was sure bad news was in the offing. I wonder
what that was all about. I came downstairs and opened the gate to the dog cage. "Furry
Face TM" didn't stir. I wonder if keeping the dog cage
after he's completely better might be a good idea; when he sleeps in his
basket (or on my lap) the slightest noise would have him leaping up.
When he is sleeping his cage he is utterly sparko
and would sleep though anything. Over brekkie I watched an episode of "Jeeves
and Wooster" that I'd recorded onto the SkyPlus
box. It was the one with "Ask Dad" and Cyril Bassington Bassington; but it
was never revealed whether Cyril was a Shropshire,
Hampshire or Kent Bassington Bassington.
As Bertie says, the world is adequately stocked with Bassington
Bassingtons. Mind you I've lived in Kent for over
thirty years and have yet to encounter one. I do like "Jeeves and Wooster" but there is no
denying that I have seen every episode too many times. Yesterday I mentioned I'd bought the makings of some Christmas beer;
with a little time on my hands this morning I thought I might make a start on
getting the stuff going before work. I emptied the old sterilising
jollop out of my beer bucket and replaced it with
fresh stuff ready for later use; but then disaster struck. I hadn't cleaned
out the beer barrel since I last used it. It was a bit rank (!) so I
swilled it out, put some water in it to soak, and spent my spare time in
search of a bottle brush with which to scrub it. Bybrook Barn didn't have one, but they did have an unfound (by me)
geocache nearby. I then drove into Canterbury to see what I could find. As I
drove I realised that I was going past one of the
geocaches that went live on Monday. With the First to Find still waiting to
be had on that particular one I couldn't just drive past and leave it
unclaimed. So I stopped... FTF - happy dance. I got some sugar for my beer from Morrisons,
but they didn't have a bottle brush. The spotty assistant had never even
heard of the concept of a brush. Bless (!) Neither Argos nor Boots had
bottle brushes. The cheapo-bargains shop also let me down too, but I did have
a wry smile in there. "Daddies
Little Angel TM" has been struggling to maintain her
modesty whilst feeding littlun recently. In the
cheapo-bargains shop was a new mother who had no truck with modesty. Her left
boob was openly flopped out for all to behold, and a baby was being
brandished in the general vicinity of said boob. The baby would have a nibble
from time to time; otherwise it just stared into space whilst the boob
flopped around. As boobs are (sometimes) wont to do. I would have taken a photo, but I had a vague feeling that it wasn't
really the polite thing to do. Fortunately I eventually found a traditional hardware shop in Wincheap. Real old-school; it actually smelled like a
hardware shop should smell. They had the brush I needed. When I commented on the matter to a colleague she said that this was
typical; the thing you for which you are searching is always in the last
place to which you go. That expression boils my piss. Of course things you
look for are always in the last place you look. Who keeps searching for
something once they've found it? (Dur!) Work was much the same as work usually is; at lunchtime I had an
interesting interlude during sax practice. I was at the far end of the works
car park giving "Greensleves" a
tootle when a little old lady came marching across and wanted to know if I
was the bloke who usually plays his instrument in the car park at lunch
times. I toyed with asking if she'd seen any others, but instead I decided to
smile sweetly. This little old lady had a complaint. My heart sank. But it
wasn't bad news; her complaint was that I was playing too far away from the
hospital. It turned out that this little old lady was something to do with
the head
injury rehabilitation unit and apparently her patients had been asking to
listen to live music. They'd asked if I would give a recital. I must admit I'm not keen on the idea, but I suppose I must be
improving for her to come and ask... |
|
23 October 2014
(Thursday) - Various Rants
After a fairly decent
night's sleep I got up to find my little dog was still snoring. I abluted and gave the beer barrel
a bit of a scrub, then settled down to brekkie.
I watched an "All New South Park" episode which didn't
feature any of Stan, Kyle, Cartman or Kenny, but did
have Dick Dastardly and Muttley. And there was a
Canadian version of Penelope Pitstop in the Queefmobile too. As I watched the
telly my dog watched me. Hopefully. He's not been up at brekkie
time much lately, but today he saw off the crusts from my toast before
settling onto my lap for some grooming. He likes being combed. I set off to work,
and my piss boiled as I listened to the radio. The NHS is having yet another radical shake-up
to save yet more billions of pounds. The pundits on the radio were
interviewing some NHS big-wig who was talking about the expensive mis-use of hospital services and was saying that it would
be a far better use of resources for many patients to be seen in the GP surgeries. It strikes me that
moving patients from one health care location to another isn't going to save
any money; the hospital bill might be less; the GP bill will be more. Perhaps
the "experts" might look at why people go to A&E departments rather than GP surgeries. Is it perhaps
because you can *always* get seen in an A&E
department? You might have to wait, but you will get medical attention. But
if you phone your GP, more often than not you will be told to bugger off and
try again tomorrow. Perhaps A&E departments could learn from GP surgeries? I stopped off on
the way to work in the hope of being first to find a new geocache. I'd had an
email yesterday saying that a cache would be placed at 5am this morning. It's
unusual to get prior notice of the things going out, but this one looked as
though it was going to be on my journey to work. It would be daft not to have
a look-see. Mind you I was expecting the worst when I read the cache's web
page: "This cache is special, so if you want to find it you
have to be accurate and act smart! A big surprise awaits the first one to
find it! The cache will be placed at 23/10/2014 5:00am.
Stand in the given coordinates and hear... To find it you'll have to follow
the music! The container is a small taper-ware well hidden. Be cautious! Good
luck." I'm not a fan of
caches with descriptions written in such poor English, but I thought I could
have a go at being accurate and acting smart... I soon found myself
at a communal rubbish tip where there was no music. All I could hear was the
noise of nearby traffic. After fifteen minutes the bin men arrived. I gave up. There is
only so much hunting "taper-ware" that one can do. I kept an eye on
that cache's web page - as the day went on others reported that they too had
had a listen (as well as a look) to no avail. This evening came the
news the thing hadn’t been put out at all…
I’ve squealed to the Geo-Feds. I did my bit at
work, and at lunch time I did my best with "The Drunken Sailor"
and "Greensleeves". I got a round
of applause from the schoolchildren walking along the nearby footpath. I
expect they intended it sarcastically, but I took a bow anyway. Being Thursday I
went from work straight to saxophone lesson. The lesson went well. I have
graduated from drunken sailors. This week (whilst still wrestling with “Goose
on the Razzle”) I have been assigned “Amazing Grace” and the
introduction to “Baker Street” And talking of
things musical, Alvin Stardust
died today... |
|
24 October 2014
(Friday) - College Hotties
Over brekkie I watched an
episode of "Family Guy". I've noticed that I've recorded too
many episodes of that show in HD. That takes up an awful lot of space on my SkyPlus box. Whilst trying to find BBC Three in standard
d (as opposed to HD) I discovered an amazing show. "College Hotties" features skimpily-lad vacuous
bimbos waggling their charms at the camera. It was on the FilmOn.TV channel (Sky
channel 237) at 6.30am. It passed an otherwise dull ten minutes but it
has to be said that the plot is rather simplistic. I set off to work a little earlier than I would
normally (even though I was on the early shift). There had been
developments on that geocache I'd whinged about
yesterday. Overnight the thing had actually been put out. Seeing as I would
be driving past it anyway I thought I'd have another go to try to find it. As I drove through a rather damp morning I listened
to the radio. Apparently an ex-tree hugger-hippie-ban-the-bomber has been
awarded forty thousand pounds in damages
from the Metropolitan Police. Over a two year period of spying on her and
informing the authorities of her every movement, an undercover copper even
had a child with this ex-animal rights activist to maintain his cover. I can
see how the authorities need to keep an eye on the extremist fringe, but
surely this was a bit excessive. Personally in his shoes I might have
stretched to a mucky weekend away, but that would have been as far as I would
have gone (given the chance) There was also an interview with the leader of Plaid Cymru (the Welsh Nationalist party). She
raised some quite interesting points. It would seem that in the aftermath of
the Scottish independence debacle the Scots have got rather a good deal from
the rest of the UK. In fact in many ways a better deal than the rest of the
UK have got. The Welsh aren't at all happy about why the Scots should be
treated better than the Welsh, English or Irish. She didn't *actually*
say that the Welsh now all hate the Scots, but that was pretty much the gist
of her rant. I thought that was rather an extreme position; just when we
though the Union was sorted, all sorts of constitutional aggro
would seem to be on the way. I got the Canterbury, parked up, and went to have
another look for that elusive geocache. According to the instructions I was
to go to the designated place and listen. The instructions were rather vague
about what I should be listening for, but I'm always game for this sort of
thing. I listened for fifteen minutes and heard the passing
traffic and the occasional seagull. With time pressing I gave up, and logged
on line that I'd drawn another blank. By the time I'd driven to the works car park (three
minutes) the chap who'd hidden that cache had logged that it "was
stollen". A couple of hours later the same
fellow archived it. What a complete waste of my time that had been. There are those who would say that about tupperware-hunting in general; but that would be rather
harsh. I did my thing at work; by my own admission today I
was "a blur of activity". I had to point that out to my
colleagues who otherwise might not have noticed. Lunch time sax practice was fun; in addition to
"Goose on the Razzle" I had two new tunes to learn. At the
moment "Amazing Grace" is just "Rather Mediocre
Grace", and "Baker Street" is something of a
disappointment. But I have a little while to work on them. An early start made for an early finish, and we
spent the evening feeding McDonalds to grandsons. Well, to the oldest one at
least. The littun is still too small for McScoff. Mind you, at three weeks of age he's put on over
a pound in weight since he was born... |
|
25 October 2014
(Saturday) - Hic(!)
Not including a nocturnal tiddle I slept
though until 7.30am this morning when backache finally forced me out of my
pit. I came downstairs to find a very sleepy dog still fast asleep. He didn't
stir even when I opened the cage door or even when I scoffed toast. He
finally staggered over and sat on my lap for morning soppiness which was when
I took a few
photos of him. In a fit of boredom I drafted a geo-whinge
to post on a geocaching forum. I was wondering what people want from the
hobby. Earthcache day was a couple of weeks ago and
I only had two logs on my three owned Earthcaches.
I put quite a bit of effort into making a new Wherigo
a little while back and after five finds in two weeks it's had no one near it
in a month. Last month I put a lot of effort into making a puzzle cache. It's
been found twice and at the last meet I was told (many times) that
said puzzle had gone onto the ignore list as people couldn't be bothered to
make the effort to solve it. Yet if I shove a film pot cache under a rock,
for all that everyone slags it off,dozens
of people actually go look for it. I did have half a plan to get involved in another rather involved
geo-project, but I have a dilemma. I can spend hours of time and effort only
to have two people say "well done Mr B",
or I can stick a magnetic key holder on the back of a roadside and have
swarms of people smiling. I drafted the geo-whinge and then deleted it
without posting it anywhere. It would only start an argument. "er indoors TM" emerged from her pit and we went round to Asda. She wanted a free flu jab. I'd been offered one but
had turned it down. Having been rather dragooned into having one last year I
felt rather ill afterwards and didn't fancy that again. I have a theory that
when I have the flu jab I am poorly, and when I don't have the flu jab I
don't get flu anyway. Once home I got the Christmas beer out of the tin and into the bucket,
I had a quick sax practice much to the disgust of "Furry Face TM",
and then we had a rather good bit of brekkie. Andy and kim came round, and "Furry
Face TM" got very over-excited, and when I picked him up
he yelped in pain. His back isn't quite right yet. So we settled him down and
got the train to Dover. The Rear Admiral and associate joined us half way,
and we spent a rather pleasent afternoon wandering
round Dover drinking ourselves silly. We found a micro brewery
at DeBradlei Wharf we never knew about. We found a new micro
pub that plans to start brewing soon. The Port of
Call was (finally) open and Kim had chilli
cider (yuk), and we finished off the Dover session by a Dinner in the Samuel Peto in Folkestone went
down very nicely, and the rest of the evening was something of a blur... |
|
26 October 2014
(Sunday) – Harbledown
I had a rather restless night, most of the night was spent wide awake
and I was up far too early; I blame excessive amounts of various ales. Most
people relish the clocks going back an hour; for me that just adds to the
tedium. Whilst vaguely making plans for next weekend I saw that there was to
be a themed mega-meet of geocachers. Hundreds of people getting together in
the Midlands for a Hallowe'en party. That looked to be a fun thing to do for
next weekend; I was just on the point of putting the word out and seeing if
there was any interest when I realised that this
event is not planned for next Saturday. It happened yesterday. Woops! Eventually the time passed, and over brekkie
an email popped up. A new geocache. Initially I thought I would leave it to
be something to do before tomorrow's late shift at work, but a relatively
easily solved puzzle and little else to do meant
that I was soon out of the house chasing a First to Find. I chased it; I got
it. Happy dance and smug mode. I came home, and after half an hour or so "er
indoors TM" emerged from her pit. After a little pootling we set off on the day's walk. I *so*
wanted to take my little dog, but for all that he seems to be on the mend he
seems to be sleeping a lot more and a lot deeper than he ever used to. He is
reluctant to go up the stairs, he won't jump onto sofas, and he yelped
yesterday when picked up. His back is still not better, and so the enforced
rest continues. In a novel break with tradition I drove today; and having rallied the
troops we drove out to Harbledown. Earlier in the
week a series of twenty-something geocaches had been put out in a circuit
round there, and today we went for a little stroll along that circuit and
found the lot despite a few minor queries as to which way was left and which
way was right. As we walked we went through orchards, alongside the river, through
swamps, underground, even into areas of low oxygen (!)... billed as about four miles we measured it to be five
miles. We even met another gaggle of hunters of tupperware
who recognised me. Everyone seems to recognise me; incognito doesn't seem to be something I
can do especially well. I remembered to
take some photos whilst we were out as well... We came home and made a fuss of "Furry Face TM".
WIth a little time on my hands I organised a walk for next Sunday.
If any of my loyal readers fancy joining a stroll round North Kent and have
escaped a Facebook invite, just drop me a line and I'll send "when
and where" details. As I messed about on-line "The Grinch" was on the telly. Very unusually my little dog was watching the telly. He rarely shows any interest in the television,
but he seemed entralled by this film. With "er indoors TM"
off bowling I set about the laundry. Half way through ironing shirts there
was something of a disaster; my ironing board collapsed. After more years
than I can remember the welding on the thing has finally given out. This
ironing board is older than "My Boy TM" but has
finally thrown in the towel. I can't help but wonder from where it is that one purchases a new
ironing board... |
|
27 October 2014
(Monday) - New Ironing Board
After a decent night's kip I woke and turned awkwardly. Somehow I
managed to pull a muscle in my neck, and it's been aching ever since. Over brekkie I watched the episode of "Family Guy"
through which I slept yesterday. As I watched it I combed "Furry Face
TM"; his recovery is odd. He's rather reluctant to be
picked up, which makes me think his back still hurts. And then he chases
around the garden like a thing possessed which makes me think he's on the
mend. SInce he had been chasing around the garden like a thing possessed earlier,
I decided to take him for a little walk this morning before work. Comapred to our usual walks this wasn't much at all;
usually we would be out for over an hour; today we only went to the off-licence and back. It was a stroll of about two
hundred yards, and at the end he wanted to keep going. But we'll start
gently. Once home he started whinging at an empty
pop bottle; I gave it to him and he took it to the garden where he started
savaging it. With time on my hands I then sterilised the
kit for syphoning the beer I'm currently brewing and put some washing in to
wash and then to dry. Whilst my woolie-pullies were
on the spin cycle and my dog was outside I thought I'd have five minutes sax
practice. Despite slipped discs, "Furry Face TM"
was there as quick as a flash and was howling along. Eventually it was time to go to work. As I drove to work I listened to
the radio. I know I shouldn't. It seems the public are up
in arms about immigration again. The defence
secretary has gone on record as saying that "British towns are
"under siege" after being "swamped" by EU immigrants".
He might have a point, but why is that? When one advertises a vacancy and
there is not a single applicant from a UK resident, what should one do? There
are several firms locally with that problem. It's such a shame that such
xenophobia seems to be a vote-winner; look at how well UKIP
are doing in the polls despite having no policies at all and despite forming
alliances in Europe with racists
and holocaust-deniers. I took a detour to take the fragments of the old ironing board to the
tip; it was only when I got there that I remembered that I had a *lot* of
other rubbish I should have taken with me as well. And then I looked at getting myself a replacement ironing board.
Several people had suggested I try Dunelm Mill; I
drove there, and after fifteen minutes of wandering randomly around the place
I eventually discovered a disinterested assistant. I asked her about ironing
boards; she vaguely waved her hands in the general direction of some stairs.
She didn't *actually* say "get knotted baldy", but that was
definitely the vibe I picked up. I went up those stairs at which she had
waved, and, after having been mistaken for an assistant several times by
other customers (equally in need of assistance), I finally found
ironing boards priced at eighty quid each. Having scraped out my pants (the price had been something of a
shock) I drove to the nearby cheapo-bargains shop where I got
substantially the same ironing board for only fifteen quid. That saving of
sixty-five pounds will come in handy. I also got some jollop to un-bung the
drains; the bath has been taking too long to empty just lately. I went to work; I did my bit. Over lunchtime I blew my saxophone
unaccompanied by a certain small dog. I can now do the first two bits of
"Baker Street"; "Amazing Grace" is better
than it was, and I'm finally getting to grips with "Goose on the
Razzle". I've had some enquiries about this tune; I can now confidently
say that it goes "da-da-da-daaa, da-da-da-daa-a-a" then it goes a bit fancy, then some
more "da-da"s
and then I get stuck. But I think I'm good for the first two thirds of the
tune now. And then after what seemed a rather long day (I blame the clocks
going back) I came home and poured my unblocking jollop
down the plug hole in the bath. It didn't seem to do much good. And having got that new ironing board home it looks rather small... |
|
28 October 2014
(Tuesday) - Tablets, Petrol
Yesterday I did something to my right shoulder. I don't know what, but
it's still rather painful and it kept me awake for much of the night. Unlike my little dog who was snoring when I
opened his cage at 6am, and still hadn't stirred an hour later. Over brekkie I watched more "Family
Guy" and then started on a week's worth of medication prior to next
Tuesday's planned surgical re-bore of my nose. I've got a week's worth of
antibiotics to clear out any infections which might get a hold during the
surgery, and I've got a week's worth of prednisolone. The stuff
is a steroid; I wasn't keen on having it, but the surgeons think it will make
the operation easier. We shall see. Off to work a little earlier than usual; I needed petrol. As I drove
the radio spouted the drivel I've come to know and love in the morning. The
leading light behind the Space-X program likened potential artificial
intelligences to biblical demons. Demons - in this day and age (!) The chocolate manufacturer Cadbury announced they are stopping
making chocolate coins because other firms can make the same thing
cheaper. It's sad but true that the same can be said for pretty much
everything that Cadbury makes. I wonder how long it will be before Cadbury
goes the way of Rumbelows and Woolworths.: I pulled in to the cheapo petrol station, parked up, stuck the petrol
nozzle in my petrol tank, squeezed the trigger, and nothing happened. I
looked around and everyone else was similarly failing to get any petrol. The
woman behind the till in the kiosk was waving frantically at us punters. I
waved back. After a few minutes she stomped out to the forecourt and ranted (at
whoever was listening) about the till having crashed. One of my fellow
customers offered to pay for his petrol in cash if that would help. This was
a red rag to a bull as far as till-woman was concerned; she started raving
and frothing at the mouth about peak time demands and the failings of the
till's secure internet connection. I asked if the petrol station had any
petrol. She shrieked that they had loads. So we all stood like lemons for a
few minutes after which time till-woman coned off the entrance to the petrol
station. Before I could say anything another fellow customer sarcastically
suggested that if she was actually shutting up shop she might like to
actually tell us. As that chap and till-woman got into a fight I drove round
to Sainsburys. Although the petrol was 0.1p per litre more expensive, they were actually selling the
stuff. And despite having spent myself six pence more on petrol than I was
expecting, I set off to work. I did my bit at work, I blew into my
saxophone at lunch time. I exchanged pleasantries with a passing normal
person who seemed enthralled with the entire concept of playing saxophones in
car parks. I suppose that (for some unlucky souls) it's not an
everyday occurrence. And with my bit at work done I came home; turning down
the geo-chance of a First to Find. As I drove home along the A28 I passed
within a couple of hundred yards from a geocache which went live at 4.30pm.
But it was along a footpath, and I wasn't going to mess about in the dark.
It's bad enough walking "Furry Face TM" in the
dark, and tonight's walk was only one of five minutes along well-lit
pavements. Being Tuesday we gatherered (at the
Admiralty) to bandy insults and to watch the last episode of "The
100". It was watchable enough. I suspect the episode would have made
more sense had I not slept through so many of the preceding ones... |
|
29 October 2014
(Wednesday) – Stuff
Yesterday I mentioned that I'd started taking prednisolone. According
to wikipedia one of the major side effects is
insomnia... After one day my nasal polyps have noticeably shrunk. However I
saw every hour of the night last night and was up and watching "Family
Guy" before 6am. I set off to work through a rather damp morning. As I drove the talk
on the radio was on illegal immigration into the UK. Every day the Italian Navy sails the Mediterranean to look for (and
bring back to Italy) people
fleeing Africa. There's about four hundred of
these people rescued every month. (and an
estimated three hundred drowning in the attempt to get across the Med every
month as well). Once brought ashore these people give the Italian
authorities the slip, make their way straight to Calais (because there are
no European border controls any more), jump on the backs of lorries and
come to Britain. Why do they go to the furthest part of Europe from where
they landed illegally? Because the benefit hand outs
they will get are better than anywhere
else in the world. Or so says the Mayor of Calais. The Prime Minister is under attack because no one seems to have any
control on illegal
immigration into the UK however it seems to be easy enough to count the cost
to the UK taxpayer. Surely the answer to this problem is simple: Stop the Italians going out and fetching back the illegal immigrants.
Either by not sailing out looking for them in the first place,
or by taking those rescued back to the African coast. Beef up the security at Calais and Dover to stop these people getting
to the UK. Apprehend these people when they come to collect their dole and pack
everyone back to the strife-torn war zones from which they have fled. Quite
straight-forward really...(!) Mind you I can't help
but wonder what I would do if I was in fear for my life and was so desperate as to risk everything to try to get to the
UK... Yesterday I mentioned that a new geocache had gone live along my drive
to work. I wasn't going to play silly beggars in the dark last night, but as
I drove into Chartham this morning so the rain
abated. I parked up, and after a short walk along the cycle-path by the
riverside I soon had the cache in hand. A straight-forward find in a rather
idyllic spot. And First to Find into the bargain. Happy dance. I got to work for the early shift, and shifted. Lunch time was damp,
but I still ventured to the car park to practice my saxophone. Having got to
my car rain stopped play; I sat and dozed in the driver's seat whilst I
played various tunes stored on my phone. And then after a rather busy afternoon I drove home. Through the rain.
And once home I walked "Furry Face TM" through
the rain. Just a short walk of five minutes but he managed to woof at two
normal people and tried to fight with a taxi. He also managed to jump on and
off the sofa this evening too. I did have the offer of a wild night on the razzle this evening; "er indoors TM" was off to the arky-ologee club. Contrary to rumour
the thing was not moribund and hasn't packed up from chronic apathy. Tonight
they were presenting a stunning and fascinating lecture on the manky bits of broken pots that have been dug up locally
by those with nothing better to do. I've often thought that if manky bits of
broken pots were actually stunning and fascinating then they wouldn't have
been left in a ditch in the first place, but what do I know? Bearing in mind the terrible night's sleep I'd had last night I
decided I'd rather doze on my own sofa with my dog rather than snore in one
of the arky-ologee club's uncomfortable seats. I
watched a film I'd recorded a week or so ago. "Dog Pound"
is the story of life inside a young offender's institution. It was rather
dark, rather violent, and utterly predictable to anyone who'd seen the
British film "Scum"
which had been made some thirty years previously. |
|
30 October 2014
(Thursday) – Music
Yesterday I whinged about a bad night's
sleep. I slept marginally better last night; waking a little while before the
alarm having had a rather vivid dream. I had become a native American (red
indian) named "Talking Bullsheet" and was on a mission for the Ministry
of Defence having been sent to northern France to
rescue Mrs Bridges and the cast of the 1970s TV
show "Upstairs Downstairs" from what was apparently a war
zone. What was that all about? "Furry Face TM" then had much of my toast;
I scoffed my tablets, and then I watched my dog chase sparrows out of the
garden. For a dog who could barely move just three
weeks ago he's a lot more sprightly than he was. He's even jumping on and off
of the sofa without a thought. He doesn't seem to realise
he'd supposed to be resting. Off to work. As I drove the new leader of the Scottish Nationalists
was mentioned on the morning news. Having been told quite convincingly by the
Scottish electorate that the Scots aren't interested in her isolationist
policies she's now trying to say how unfair a referendum in which all of the
British decide en-masse about continued
membership of the European Union would be. How does that work? She wants Scotland out of the UK but to remain in
the larger political union.? In any event she's been
handed her arse on a plate by the electorate. You
have to admire the tenacity of the defeated politician. There was also talk about the recently released Government files dated
from thirty years ago when the threat of a nuclear attack on the UK was a rather serious concern.
It would seem that the government of the time had plans for the
post-apocalyptic UK; with a decimated population and a overly-stretched police force, martial law would
have been declared, and it was suggested that unfeeling psychopaths could be
enlisted to ruthlessly enforce law and order. Fortunately that plan never came to fruition, but it was plans like
this which make me think I was right to have been a member of the Campaign
for Nuclear Disarmament when these crackpot schemes were being hatched. As I drove up the A28 I was dangerously overtaken by a twat in a green
Transit van. As this chap sped up the wrong side of the road at the Wye
crossroads cars swerved in all directions to avoid him. Six miles later I
caught up with him at the Chartham junction where (as
soon as opportunity arose) the chap took a short cut by going the wrong
way up a one-way street. I wish I could remember his registration number... mind you from the
way he drove I can't help but wonder if he was one of the psychopaths who,
had the bombs dropped, would be laying down the law. Work was work; I got to scoff some home-make cake and then at lunch
time I blew my saxophone. After work I went for the weekly sax lesson. It's
rather apparent that for all I'm not that good at reading sheet music, I do
it better than trying to work out a tune from letters written in a sequence.
"D D# C B A B C# B" doesn't give you any
idea of the rhythm; if I say that "D D# C B A
B C# B" is the introduction sax solo to Baker Street you get to
understand my problem. I hope... Home for a quick bite to eat, and then I turned down the chance of a
meal out with my workmates because "Access all Areas" were
gigging at the Windmill. Being on the tablets (and consequently off the
beer) I was on driving duty and wouldn't have time to have a meal out and
do all the driving in time for the gig. Which was a shame, but in keeping
with the day's musical theme I was glad I got to see the band play. I generally don't like live music, but that's because usually it's not
done very well. Tonight's show was rather good. Or perhaps I'm just the
teensiest bit biased. Good music, good company.... ...the evening was only marred by seven quid for a bottle of cider and
a glass of pop finally served up when the barmaid could be bothered. |
|
31 October 2014
(Friday) - Feeling Particularly Miserable
I have insomnia because my right sinuses are full of polyps which
prevent me breathing when asleep. I have been given a course of prednisolone
to shrink the polyps. The drug *has* shrunk the polyps so I can breath at night. However the stuff has side effects. It
causes insomnia itself so I have trouble sleeping. And it is a diuretic (makes
you piss more) so as soon as I nod off I wake up needing to go to the
loo. Several times. As an added bonus I am experiencing many other side effects of the
stuff including having hot flushes, experiencing noticable
weight gain, and feeling particularly miserable pretty much of the time (even
more than usual!). It also suppresses the action of my immune system, so
I am on antibiotics to counteract that. Pills for my pills (!) So I am now in the position that my insomnia is worse and I am paying
for pills to make it so, and to also make me uncomfortable and disagreeable
into the bargain... only three more days of them. Over brekkie I watched "Family Guy"
and while trying to waste an hour or so before work I browsed the Internet. A
couple of years ago I did an on-line course about astro-biology.
The course provider emails me with matters of note from time to time. This
morning they sent a frankly
nonsensical article explaining why we haven't yet found any aliens. The
crux of the author's argument is that *if* life does advance and
proceed by natural selection, then biological life will be supseceded by artificial intelligences and life forms. An interesting premise until one gives it thirty seconds thought.
Leaving aside the fact that the author of the paper has (like everyone
else) avoided making any definition of what he means by "life",
his theory explains nothing. Rather than asking "where are the
aliens?" we should instead be asking "where are the robots?"
Fermi remains unanswered. Mind you it was rather apt for astro club
day... I was on an early start today, and set off to work shortly after dawn.
As I drove the pundits on the radio were discussing the pros and cons of
putting the calorific value of beers and wines onto the labelling
of bottles and cans of the stuff. Apparently people have been observed in
pubs and restaurants each consuming some four hundred calories less (on
average) per piss-up when menus giving out calorific contents are made
available to them. In these days of combating obesity, putting the calorie
content onto a label is demonstrably a sensible thing to do. But will the
drink industry do it? Apparently not because beer and wine is not "officially
a food stuff". I can't help but wonder how many faceless administrators have to be
given a back-hander to re-label a bottle of Spitfire. Perhaps equally nonsensical is the revelation (from our old friend
science) that dogs tend to align
the direction in which they are facing with the Earth's magnetic fields
when having a dump. However when it comes to having a tiddle,
only girl dogs point themselves in a north-south manner; boy dogs tiddle in all directions.
One lives and learns. I shall take a compass on my next dog walk and see if "Furry
Face TM" craps in a northerly or southerly way. Having
established this I can then use him as a makeshift compass should the need
arise when next out on a long walk.Who needs a
compass when one has a shitting dog? If nothing else it's another reason to
hurry his recovery. My lunchtime was (mostly) spent on another sax practice. I
managed to blag my way out of having to waste any
more time with "Goose on the Razzle" at last night's sax
lesson. I am now on "Hello Dolly" and a famous American
piece of music which everyone has heard, but of which no one knows the name.
It starts with a "da-da-da daa-daa"
in ascending note order kicking off from a G (I think). "Hello
Dolly" has promise, but the other one is still leaving a lot to be
desired. It don't help that he sax keeps going squawky. An early start made for an early finish, and as it was the last Friday
of the month I had an appointment in McDonalds with Luke Warm for McScoff before going round to the new-look new-format astro club. It's no secret that the attendance at the astro
club is noticably down on what it has been. A lot
of the once-regular members haven't been seen for months or years. We need to
do something to bring back the old hands and retain the new ones. So there's
been a change to the way the evenings will proceed.
The idea is that during the winter months we'll start with a quick welcome
and intro session. Then go out with telescopes, and then tea, coffee, raffle,
and end with the lecture. Now *perhaps* (!) I'm biased here. I admit I have no
interest whatsoever in looking through a telescope at a faint splodge of light that might be absolutely anything. (And
judging by the rather poor attendances at so many organised
observing sessions over the last five years, I would say that neither have more than half a dozen other past or present
club members). I'd rather have the talk earlier in the evening. Because
that's the bit I like, and for which I go along to the club. And when people
go out and shiver round telescopes later in the evening, make polite excuses
and go home five minutes later, that's when I put all the chairs away and
then go home myself. Leaving a few hardy souls to stand around shivering out
in the cold whilst I go home to where it's warmer. The whole plan hinges on the premise that people want to look through
telescopes. Personally I don't. And from experience I don't think many others
do either. Perhaps that's why I'm not keen on the idea. (And doesn't that little rant sound negative.... I wrote it this
morning over brekkie. I considered deleting it, but
I shall leave it as a reminder to myself and the world of the mood-altering
power of prednisolone.) There's no denying I went along tonight expecting the worst. But I
thought I'd give the idea a go before dismissing it out of hand. After all,
if nothing else, over the years this blog has catalogued many instances of me
being completely wrong. And was I wrong this time? On reflection I wasn't *entirely* wrong. The evening started
according to plan with a welcome and introduction session. But it wasn't
quick... with a lot of interesting news it went on for forty five minutes.
According to the schedule that only left fifteen minutes for stargazing, so
the schedule had to be rapidly re-vamped. The stargazing session went... I wouldn't say it didn't go well, but a
good quarter of the people present didn't go outside at all, and over half of
those that had gone out were back inside within twenty minutes. Mind you I do
sometimes feel that the first part of the evening involves too much sitting
about. And tea time can be something of a scrum; tonight's observing session
with people coming and going was much more relaxed so maybe having the
observing session earlier wasn't a bad thing. Completely contrary to what I had been expecting, pretty much everyone
stayed after tea when usually half the people present go home. People then
had the choice of carrying on with telescopes or listening to a lecture.
Exactly as I had thought, judging by how many seats were taken for the
lecture, I don't think more than half a dozen people could have stayed
outside telescoping (on the clearest night you could hope for). People
*do* go along to listen to the speakers. Mind you I was wrong in that I had gone along expecting the worst. For
all that we tried a radical departure from our usual plan,
it was a really good evening. With a couple of very minor tweaks this new
format might just work. Change isn't necessarily a bad thing... What a rant today has been.... did I mention that this Prednisolone
stuff I'm taking is a depressant...? |
