For those of my loyal readers who were wondering about “My Boy TM ” and his antics on the high seas yesterday, never fear – he is well. The lifeboat arrived to rescue him at 9.05pm last night, and deposited him and the crew of HMS “Pride of Beaver Road” on Whitstable beach shortly afterwards.
The fact that their cars were some ten miles away in Faversham is probably best seen as a piddling detail, bearing in mind that HMS “Pride of Beaver Road” is still floating at anchor some two miles off of Whitstable. One wonders how the vessel’s captain will retrieve the ship, or even if he intends to.
I had plans for this morning - to finish off making good the ceiling which was damaged by the leak. To put the top box back onto my car. To spend some time pootling round the garden. In the end I wasted the morning in NeverWinter.
The plan for the day was to visit the in-laws who were doing a boot fair in Icklesham. I quite enjoy looking at all the tat which is touted in boot fairs. For no adequately explored reason I felt the urge to buy something with maritime connotations – a life jacket perhaps? But leaving later than planned, together with serious traffic hold-ups in
With only two ales on the hand pump (Greene King IPA & Abbott) the ale selection isn't up to that of many other local pubs. (Only five minutes drive away is a pub with nine ales). The New Inn is a good enough pub. In some parts of the world it would be top banana. But in this part of
Together with my niece I ran riot in the beer garden, ripping holes in my new T-shirt and eventually scaring off the resident gang of kiddies who had been treating the place as their own private domain. As they left they gave me the pub’s cat, telling me that they’d had enough of said cat, that it was rubbish and that I could have it. The cat didn’t seem too bothered at being given away, and the daft animal was purring as I carried it around like a baby.
In-laws had to leave after dinner – boot fair tat doesn’t put itself back into the garage, you know. We then came home the scenic route along the coast. I had this plan to call in at the visitor centre at Dungeness lifeboat station to buy a souvenir. We missed their closing by ten minutes, and so contented ourselves with a tacky sailor ornament from Dymchurch tat shop.
I hope he’ll appreciate it. I somehow think he won’t.