4 December 2010 (Saturday) - BKF Xmas Bash
I was slightly later getting to bed than I’d planned last night. But next door was having a row. It was quite a good one, as rows go. I couldn’t make out the main thrust of the argument, but there was quite a bit of shrieking at one point. I eventually nodded off, but was left wondering what all the fuss was about. We’ve had a stormy relationship with next door over the years and I can’t help but wonder if any perceived failing on my part has set them off (again).
And so to work. Bearing in mind last night’s sub-zero temperatures I was dreading this morning’s drive to work. But I needn’t have worried. An overnight thaw combined with very heavy rain meant that a lot of the snow had been washed away, and so I got to work easily. Work was dull, and then back home where I took a spade to the remaining ice on the path outside my house. With the surface of the ice cracked, the rain could get into the ice and melt it. That was my plan, and it seemed to work.
With the arrival of the Rear Admiral and “Daddies Little Angel TM ” we set off to Great Chart for a spot of lunch. There are two pubs in Great Chart. One has a dozen assorted thugs and thuggettes in the garden who shout abuse at passers by. One does not. It doesn’t take a genius to work out which pub I went into. A plate of ham, egg and chips went down well with two pints, and then home again. Via Lidls for some beer for the evening and some silly prizes for the evening.
The idea was that we’d put up the house’s Xmas decorations this afternoon, but as it turned out we had less than an hour between getting home and needing to set off again. So I wrapped the pressies for the silly pressie game, changed my T-shirt and then the Bat arrived. We piled into the Batmobile and set off for Horley. Google maps told me the journey would take two hours. We were approaching
Clackett Lane services with plenty of time, so we stopped for coffee. Only to find out that the party started at 6pm, not 7pm. Pausing only to throw molten chocolate all over the Rear Admiral, we piled through the slush back into the Bat-Mobile and arrived in some housing estate twenty minutes later. The Sat-Nav announced we were at our destination. We weren’t convinced, but we soon found the scout hut where we were supposed to be.
We met up with quite a few old friends and had a good laugh and chat. It was good to meet up with so many friends I see so infrequently. It was a shame the event wasn’t better attended: a lot of the kite fliers weren’t there. I suppose the bad weather had put people off. To be honest we only went as a last minute decision. Yesterday we’d decided that the weather was too bad.
We sat down to a super bit of dinner, then played pass the parcel together with forfeits. I got a forfeit… Then we had the pressie game in which… it’s too complicated to explain. The basic premise is that you take along a load of old tat which you want rid of. You gift wrap the tat and put it into the game, and then play the game on the understanding that whilst you may get rid of your tat, you’ll probably get back someone else’s tat. I got back quite a bit of tat.
Then we did the raffle. I did reasonably well, getting a kite, some wine and a rather nice (!) butter dish. ‘er indoors TM had a decent haul of prizes, and Rear Admiral and “Daddies Little Angel TM ” both had acquired far too much tat too. Then a shock – it was announced that the Bat had won the Drawing a snowman contest. I thought my snow-misery should have won, and the Rear Admiral thought his snowman should have got a mention, if only for the fact it was smoking a fag.
And then, all too soon the evening was over. Goodbyes were said, tat loaded into cars, and then home we all went. Yesterday I’d been very dubious about getting to the BKF Xmas bash (because of the bad weather). I was wrong – getting there turned out to be very easy. We were on the way home when I was just about to remark to that effect when all the power to the Bat-Mobile went. We then spent a nerve-wracking five minutes on the junction of the M3 and M25 before the engine struggled back to life.
But it didn’t stay alive for long, finally giving up the ghost about a mile or so along the M26. It was at this point that I suggested we used the Rear Admiral’s emergency tent. He’d won an “emergency tent” in the raffle. Bearing in mind we were stranded on the hard shoulder of a motorway, after midnight, with snow on the ground I thought I was justified in thinking I was having an emergency. The Rear Admiral begged to differ. Personally I don’t think his tent would have been up to the challenge, but what do I know?
The Highways Authority people arrived on the scene to ask if we were all right, and they gave “Daddies Little Angel TM ” a rather large piece of tin foil to wrap around herself until the recovery van arrived. I must admit that I was amazed by the responses of the various people we phoned for help. My immediate phone call was to friends who lived locally, who immediately put themselves onto standby in case they could help. The Rear Admiral phoned his bank (HSBC) who sorted out the recovery vehicle. The recovery chap was brilliant, arriving in less than twenty minutes after having been called. The people from the Highways Authority were really helpful. The AA were worse than useless, but they probably could have been more unhelpful if they’d tried.
We were back at the Bat-Farm before too much longer, and home before 2am. If nothing else, this will be something to laugh about in years to come.
Meanwhile the chav has pranged his skateboard into a strange looking object. If anyone has any idea what the strange looking object is, please don’t hesitate to let us know.