Yesterday was something of a milestone. Yesterday 's witterings was my two thousand five hundredth blog entry. I've recorded history (as I see it) daily since 10 September 2006. That's over six and a half years. Not bad going really.
I gave Fudge some of his new mixer for his brekkie - he yummed it up. Maybe he'll be getting that stuff more often.
And so out for a walk. What else would we do on a Sunday? Originally the plan had been a walk round Ringmer, but Ringmer is a long way away, and it would be daft to go there when the Brighton contingent are deployed elsewhere. There was talk of going on a geocaching mission round Robertsbridge, but instead we went to Somerhill near Tonbridge.
It was a sunny day; perhaps a tad warm to be walking, but it was good to be out walking without being so cold that my nose was constantly running. We started off by walking a series of eighteen geocaches; Mole's Somerhill Stroll. Not a bad walk really. Billed as six miles it came out a shade under nine miles. One thing I have learned about series of geocaches is that the distances given are always seriously underestimated. Whilst we walked the dogs attempted to chase rabbits, we saw wrens and buzzards, and we caught the sun qite spectacularly.
Regular readers of this drivel may recall that a few days ago I was whinging about my knee hurting. It was getting better. I say *was* - I think today's stroll hasn't done it much good. It's rather tender again. On the way back to the car we found a geocache specialising in trackables - it had four. I've never seen so many in one cache before. There are some photos of our walk here.
We had planned to go on to pck up a puzzle cache on the way home, but we had a problem. Our planned solution involved answering questions about a nearby hospital to get some numbers. With those numbers we would do some sums to work out the co-ordinates of the hidden cache. My calculations had one of the digits as being minus two. Something was obviously wrong. I emailed the cache owner, but had no reply so we didn't bother with that cache. We might try again when we are next in the area.
We came home via Wateringbury; a new cache had gone live there during the day and there was just the outside chance of getting a "first to find". We didn't FTF; we were beaten to it. Mind you I had a result in another way. I say "result" - it wasn't really. Something negative is hardly a result. Some time ago I hid a geocache and submitted it for publication. It was turned down because it was too close to a nursery school. I would have thought that it was quite far enough away not to cause any problems, but I was over-ruled. Shortly after that I had another cache turned down because it was within sight of a play park. I suppose it was. If you had a rather powerful telescope.
Since then I've been keeping a little list of newly released geocaches with fail the "playground rule". I would suggest that the one we found today fails in that the suggested parking is in the car park of the local scout hut. Personally I couldn't help but feel that a recommended parking place should be near the cache, and it was rather annoying having parked half a kilometre from the cache to walk past several good parking places.
And so home. I am finding more and more that having walked for a few hours and then having been driven home I can hardly move when the car stops. Old age, perhaps? But it really hurt to get out of tha car and hobble the few yards to the front door. Daft really, as I'd walked nine miles earlier. With er indoors TM" of to a meeting of the Honourable Association of Candlemongers I spent much of the evening falling asleep in front on on-line psychology lectures. Tonight we were touching on hypnosis and childhood development. it seems that there are various stages of mental maturation that we all go through as we grow up. I'm not sure I've done quite as many of those stages as I might have done. Which would explain a lot...
Another good night's sleep, even if I was up with the lark. After a quick fix of BattleStar Galactica Steve and Sarah arrived and we popped round to the Foundry for a spot of brekkie. You really can't go wrong with a fry up.
And so to Shadoxhurst. The astro club had been asked to put on a stall to entertain the punters again, and we did. After an initial bit of to-ing and fro-ing with a rather officious twit in a hi-Vis jacket we were soon organised and ready for the punters. We had an array of scopes set up (including the solar scope), hand-outs and magazines on display, and we spent much of the day chatting with the normal people about things astronomical.
In between entertaining the masses we soaked up the ambiance. there were cake stalls and tat stalls. I bought a book from one of them - "How to Hypnotise a Chicken". There was a pet supplies stall who gave me some free samples and can deliver food to the door at half the price I at which get the stuff from Pets at Home. There was a home made ice cream stall. There was a beer tent. there was even a ditch in which you could tiddle - the event was let down by the lavatorial facilities.
"Daddies Little Angel TM" and the Rear Admiral and Sid came to visit our stall, and helped us out for a bit. In between astronomisng we watched the dog-related run. There was an entertaining five minutes in the agility event when a dog got stuck in the tunnel and a small child had to be sent in to retrieve said pup. There were also several CrackWatch opportunities in the tug'o'war; if only I'd been quicker with the camera. And we even had a visit from a llama. I took one or two photos of the day and have put them on-line.
Home, and we took "Furry Face TM" for a walk round the park. He seemed to like it. After the walk and after tea I tried him on some of the free sample of dog food I'd got earlier in the day. He absolutely loved it. I'll see how he gets on with the rest of the stuff. I may well be going over to that stuff on a permanent basis.
And with er indoors TM" off out for the evening I settled down in front of the telly for a DVD-o-thon. Sometimes you can't beat a good slob-about.
As I scoffed my brekkie and watched DVDs I wondered if today was "Blue Box Friday". I checked the website and found that it was. I also found that there is an Ashford council recycling app. I downloaded it and shall fiddle with it later.
I set off early to the glazier to get the replacement shelf for the new wall unit. An small glass shelf cost seventeen quid (!) There was a minor mishap when I spent too long chatting and gassing with the people in the glaziers that I actually left without picking up the glass shelf, but it didn't take too long to go back and get it. Woops. Fortunately the thing fits nicely where it should.
"Daddies Little Angel TM" arrived. She was very excited about her latest money making scheme - "Extreme Couponing". She's been watching the Honey Boo Boo channel and had this theory that she could save a load of money by using money-off coupons when she goes shopping. She was rather vague about where these coupons would come from; but had some idea that you could get them by being pro-active. Personally I wish she's stop being pro-active and start being quiet, but what do I know.
I suggested that when the money-off coupons came through the letter box she might use the coupons in the shops and not use them to line her guinea pigs' cage. This idea came as something of a revelation, and she started looking at the clutter that had just come through the door with a view to saving on her next shopping bill.
We took the dogs for a wander and came home via Pets at Home. I'd phoned them to see if they had a starter unit for the fish tank light. They'd told me that they had the one I needed, and even quoted a price. When I got the the shop they were insistent that they didn't do starter units for fish tank lights. They were adamant that no one had spoken with me on the phone, and even showed me all the lighting section to prove that they had none.
And so home where I had more dealings with doombrains. I arrived home to find our new recycling bins were being delivered. For some reason we only had half the amount of bins that the neighbours had been given. I asked the chaps doing the delivering why this was. They didn't know and fetched the supervisor. This half-wit (and that is a kind description) told me that bins were allocated following a review of the amount of waste put out by each individual house. I asked said half-wit how such an analysis of rubbish output could be conducted, bearing in mind that on bin days we have been putting our rubbish in a pile with rubbish from several other houses. He had no answer, so I phoned the council and complained. Half-wit will be dispatched with more bins for us.
Interestingly these bins were put in our garden; somewhere that previously bin men have never dared to tread. Hopefully in this new world order of bin collections they will actually be able to collect the bins rather than just leaving them like they have done in the past.
I spent an afternoon doing dull washing and ironing and sorting undercrackers, and then set off to astro club. An interesting talk; a chance to meet up with friends. I won a voucher for the chip shop in the raffle. good times.
Mind you attendance at astro club is down on what it has been. I wonder why - I think it's every bit as good as it ever was.
Meanwhile, unlike trans-Atlantic knees, my knee seems to be on the mend. I shall be grateful for small mercies...
The first night for a week without the magic tablets and I slept well; waking just before getting up time. Let's hope this is the way of the future. Furry Face was sleeping too well to come and see me as I scoffed my toast, which was a shame. He's taken to helping me with the crusts. Oh well - his loss.
I had my brekkie and set off to work.
As I drove the talk on the radio was of "fracking" which I once thought was a swear word on the BattleStar Galactica. It turns out that "fracking" is a way of extracting natural gas from deep underground. In years gone by the NIMBYs would have opposed any drilling anywhere; nowadays communities are competing to have their fields drilled up as there are financial incentives to have drilling in your neighbourhood and getting your rocks fracked. I say "financial incentives" - you actually get a bung. They can frack my garden if they want to.
Mind you I'm rather amazed by the whole fracking thing. On the one hand there is (apparently) far more shale gas to be had from fracking than there was ever North Sea oil and gas to be had. Cheap fuel is always good. It will last my lifetime, so I'm all right (!) On the other hand in this high-tech twenty first century shouldn't we be using these irreplaceable reserves sensibly (and getting energy from renewable sources) rather than just burning gas?
And so to work where I did my bit whilst hobbling around. Somehow or other I did for my right knee yesterday. As the day wore on so my knee got progressively worse.
I don't know what I did to it; if I did know then I would be sure not to do it again. I hope it gets better soon. I have plans for walking dogs tomorrow, and plans for a rather ambitious hike over the weekend. I don't want to be mucking about with a gammy knee. It hurts.
And in closing here's something to make you think. Two new burger chains are on their way to the UK from the USA. Shake Shack and Five Guys are about to open. Featuring burgers that cost a tenner they are looking to cater to the sort of punter who likes paying way over the odds for their shopping. For no adequately explored reason the words "Sainsburys" and "Waitrose" spring to mind.
I shall be sticking to Maccy D... unless I can persuade the Man with No Alias (patent pending) to go out for dinner...
5-hydroxy-tryptophan worked its wonders again last night - six hours unbroken sleep. I wonder if that will be my last good night's sleep. I've run out of the small supply that I had and am wondering about whether or not to continue with it. I have a serious aversion to taking any kind of medicine on a long term basis; if I did have any deficiency, this little course of tablets should have corrected it. At thirty quid for a rather small bottle, the stuff isn't cheap. And for all that I sleep well, I have been waking still feeling tired.
In the interests of long-term health (and short term economy) I shall give up with the stuff for the time being.
I spent the morning productively (for a change). An hour's homework, then a psychology lecture. Last week I wrote an essay for that course - today I had to mark the essays of six other students. Some had made a good effort; some had made piss-poor attempts. And then the door bell rang. Our new wall unit was being delivered. Oh how I laughed.
The two delivery chaps were pleasant enough, but thick. The unit came with removable glass shelves. Neither of them had thought to remove the glass shelves and so were surprised to find one had shattered when they dropped it. We arranged for me to get some sort of a discount, and they drove off. "Daddies Little Angel TM" helped me get the new unit in place. Firstly we removed the old unit. In fragments. Oh, the clutter we found on it. Six tins of hot dog sausages and four tins of soup all seven years past their expiry dates. Countless baseball hats. Fishing rod bags. The Guinness Book of Records 1998. The Top Ten of Everything (1996 edition). My bronze swimming badge from 1975. Countless sets of luminous flashing rabbit ears, eight tiggers, All manner of tat. And when we had finally made a space for the new unit we had a surprise. The unit was too big. Eventually through forcing, heaving, straining and pure brute force we got the new thing in place. But it gouged a lump out of the ceiling as it went in. And it is now permanently in place. It will not be coming out again in this life.
After a spot of lunch "Daddies Little Angel TM" went up to town to get her new phone. her old one had been somewhat problematical since she dropped it in the sea last weekend. I went to the glazier to sort out a new glass shelf for my wall unit. Thee new glass shelf cost a quarter of the amount I spent on the wall unit. I am undecided what to do about the bill for this shelf. On the one hand it was clearly the fault of the delivery people; they admitted as such. On the other hand I bought the thing from a charity shop. I feel guilty asking for them to stump up for the shelf.
Once we'd done our respective chores we plugged "Daddies Little Angel TM" new phone in to charge and whilst we waited for PUK codes to do their thing we took the dogs round the park. We struck up a conversation with some nice ladies who were playing with their dog in the river. Fudge and Sid would paddle, but weren't keen on going in too deep. So "Daddies Little Angel TM" hoiked Fudge into the deep bit to prove he could swim. He'd been rolling in fox poo, so it was river or bath for him.
On the way home we met up with some geo-pals who were off to find the latest cache that I'd hidden. We exchanged pleasantries, then made our way home where I intended to do more on-line psychology, but actually played Bubble Witch and Candy Crush Sagas.
The plan for the evening had originally been to go on a walk with the arky-ologee club. But the house was such a mess following the aftermath of the new unit;s installation so we stayed home and er indoors TM" sorted out some of the stuff. If nothing else I have found my "Kiss Me Quick" hat and a false beard. Whilst she sorted stuff that really should have gone in a bin ten years ago I fed hot dogs from ten years ago to "Furry Face TM". Inn the meantime next door clanged scales out of their piano. you would think that after all these years they would be showing some improvement on the thing. But sadly not.
As they clanged I got my recent eBay purchases together and assembled my lego train track. It's almost there - I just need a few more sleepers to build a second loop, then I can measure up and see if I can't make space for a table somewhere.
Meanwhile my dog is really farting badly now. I wonder why...
The night before last wasn't a triumph for 5-hydroxy-tryptophan; last night was better. I slept until ten minutes before the alarm was dur to go off. I got up and over a spot of brekkie I checked my emails. Frustration. there is a puzzle-geocache beased in the general vicinity of Dungeness Power Station. the puzzle is based on the fact that one TV channel has featured link pieces based on footage from the area. I *think* I know what the channel is, but I'm having problems solving other parts of the puzzle. So I emailed the cache owner to check that my initial assumption was right. he emailed back to say he wasn't telling.
On reflection I suppose that it is his right to do that. However it's not as though I just gave up and asked him to tell me where the cache was; all I wanted was one small hint. He says he's looking forward to seeing my "Found It" log. I suspect he's going to have a long wait. I've wasted enough time on this cache; there's plenty of others out there I shall go for instead.
The news seriously bioled my piss this morning. Twenty years after the Stephen Lawrence affair teh establishment is waking up to the fact that there was (just possibly) institutional racism in the police of the 1980s.
The pundits on the radio were calling for independent investigations to review the policing of the time. Are they serious. A friend of mine resigned from the Met in 1983 because he didn't like the fact that black lad were regularly beaten up in the police cells. Another friend of mine saw the same happening in the cells in Sussex police stations at the same time. The chaps of afro-Caribbean origin with whom I went to college were no friends of the police having had first hand experience of what the police of the time were like. It's well established that if you were a young black lad in the 1980s the police would have given you a slap.
It's no secret that I'm no fan of the Boys in Blue, but I'm pretty sure that this institutional racism is firmly a thing of the past. It happened, but after various riots it stopped. There's plenty of things wrong with the current police force for independent tribunals to investigate. Why bother wasting time investigating that which we all knew happened and have now stopped?
Being Tuesday the clans gathered; today at Arden Drive. Insults bandied, telly watched. I missed last week's meeting; it was good to get along tonight.
And in closing today spare a thought for the family of Professor Mick - he died today...
Following three successes for 5-hydroxy-tryptophan, last night wasn't quite such a victory for the stuff. I woke at 3am, but got back to sleep only to wake again at 5.30. Mind you I did have an alarm set, and I've mentioned before that having an alarm set does stuff up my chances of sleeping. Still, I shall persevere with the 5HT for a little longer and see what happens.
Fudge sat with me as I scoffed my brekkie. I was still aching from yesterday's walk, and he seemed to be aching too. Perhaps he might benefit from cod liver oil? I shall speak to the vet. Talking of which we got a text from the vet yesterday saying that we hadn't collected his anti-flea treatment, and would we collect it urgently. I collected it only the other day. I phoned them to see what was going on; the nice lady at the vet's said she was fed up with people phoning because they'd got a text from them. Apparently their computer system takes it upon itself to randomly text people all sorts of messages. The nice lady told me that she wished that the computer would ask her first.
And so to work. Today wasn't a bad day really. It was in many ways a good day. But after the really good and eventful last three days I really wasn't feeling the entire "work thing" today. I wonder just how early an early retirement I can get away with? I did my bit, and came home listening to the radio as ever. The latest celebrity to have been supposedly abusing children is none other than the Italian premier. He's been sentenced to prison for seven years. He denies the allegations, as one would expect him to. Interestingly the girl he supposedly paid to podger also denies the allegations as well. If the alleged injured party is denying all knowledge one can't help but wonder what is going on.
Something else to winder about is the latest discovery of our old friend science. It turns out that there is a correlation between lowering of pollution levels and the advent of increasingly worse hurricanes. Perhaps it's time to throw the rubbish back in the river...?
Another success for 5-hydroxy-tryptophan as I had another good night's sleep, not waking till nearly 6am. Perhaps a lie-in one Sunday might be nice, but laying about in bed is really only any use if you want to waste your life that way (!) So a spot of brekkie was scoffed, and then we went out promptly.
We'd arranged to do the "May Bank Holiday Weekend" series of geocaches; we'd arranged this a couple of weeks ago. But what with one thing and another I hadn't really done my homework. I'd downloaded all the caches to my phone, but it wasn't till we were within a few miles of the start that I realised my mistake. It was only then that I realised where we were going. These caches were around the Haywards Heath area. I should have rallied the Sussex chapter along. By the time I had realised this, it was too late. Next time I will be more organised.
We parked up and set off on our walk. To begin with I think it's fair to say we struggled a little. GPS kit was thrown by overhead power cables. And we never seem to have much urgency when we are out. With a series of seventy caches (plus five others along the way) we should really have been much further on than cache #11 by mid day. But even if it is all about the numbers, it's not about rushing. We had a great time. We saw deer and foxes. We had a picnic by the river. I shouted abuse at the steam trains (I *hate* steam trains) The forecast rain never came. Suzy Woo was off of her lead a lot - she's getting really good at that now.
The cache hides were good. Relatively easy; but then that is what one wants when there's lots to be found. Mind you I did think some of the hides were a bit cheeky. We'd walked the area two months ago, and quite a few of the caches we'd found then had been archived. The caches we were hunting today had been released a week or so after we'd last been there. I recognised several of today's hides as being exactly the same as ones we'd found last time. The old archived hides had been resurrected. It certainly made the last part of the afternoon easier when we were running short of time.
We started walking at 10.30am, and according to the wonders of the technology we carried it would seem that we walked for about six hours, and we were still for three hours. That seems to be the going rate for caching hikes - two thirds of the time is spent walking and one third hunting and doing secret geocaching rituals. We covered nearly seventeen miles; which is probably the longest walk I've done for some time.
I *really* ache now...
5-hydroxy-tryptophan came up trumps last night. Six hours of unbroken sleep. That is unheard of. I was well pleased with that, and felt quite smug as I watched my morning's fix of BattleStar Galacticaa over toast and coffee. I wasn't quite so smug about the weather though - mid summer and torrential rain.
We drove down to Folkestone to see the birthday boy, and then went shopping. A gas barbecue from Tesco, and we ordered a new wall unit from the hospice's charity shop. It will (hopefully) be delivered on Wednesday.
Home for a spot of lunch. We bandied insults with "Daddies Little Angel TM" and the Rear Admiral, and then took "Furry Face TM" round the block. He likes that. Once home er indoors TM" prepared for the new wall unit by shifting the clutter from the old broken one whilst I did more on-line psychology. Apparently 5-hydroxy-tryptophan is a precursor to serotonin, low levels of which are common in people with depression. So as well as sleeping better I might stop being such a mardy old git (!) And then I played silly on-line games until it was time to go out.
The Bat arrived, and we went to the County Hotel where everyone gathered for a belated birthday meal. Two pints of very black beer, and an "all you can eat" buffet before going to Queen Street (oo-er!) for coffee and cake. Wonderful food with wonderful friends. Mind you, the problem with an "all you can eat" buffet is that it encourages you to see just how much you can eat. I felt rather bloated as I lay down to sleep...
Last night was something of a test for 5-hydroxy-tryptophan. Did the stuff do the trick? Difficult to say, really. I woke at 3am, and several times after that/ but I got proper sleep, with some rather vivid dreams. The experiment was rather messed up by the shop over the road having a very noisy delivery at 4.30am. I shall try again tonight and see what happens.
After a spot of brekkie I took "Furry Face TM" for aa walk. This morning's constitutional was quite eventful. Fudge had a serious woofing fit at a vagrant in his sleeping bag in Bowen's Field wetland park. And I had a serious woofing fit at the fit (in more ways than one) young mother who came jogging past with a push chair. As well as transporting the littlun, she was using the push chair as some sort of exercise device. Periodically she would stop running with the push chair and start pulling various contortions over and about it. It was quite entertaining.
And so home, where I did my homework for the on-line psychology course. i had to choose a topic about how mankind interacts with animals and write a short piece on it. I chose "zoos - good or bad". I have a couple of days until the thing is to be handed in, so if any of my loyal readers would like to offer any comments or advice I'd be very grateful.
I then took the seats out of the car in readiness for the evening's plans. The seats are heavy - I weighed one. It weighed two and a half stone. That's a lot. And then I realised that in the last two years the amount of weight I have lost is equivalent to two car seats. That really is a lot to be lugging about.
After a spot of lunch I put the lead on "Furry Face TM" and took him ffor another walk. It's odd - no matter how little or how far we walk in the morning, in the afternoon he's still desperate for a walk. But when we go he is obviously aching and seems like he can hardly move. I wonder if some cod liver oil in his food might help him?
Whilst out we met a colleague who is hoping to move to the area. I replaced one of my geoccaches which I found had gone missing a few days ago, and we made our way home via the Bowens Field Wetland Park. "Furry Face TM" went straight into the swampy bit and came out smelling as though something had died. I'm not sure what it was that had died, but something had. My dog had found one of its bones. Recapturing the pup was then quite tricky as he seemed convinced I was after his bone.
And so to Smarden (via four geocaches) to collect the camping gear. We don't need it for a little while, but I was at a loose end today so together with the Bat, er indoors TM" and the Rear Admiral we got some of the gear together. I need to go through the shed to see what else we have, and what we need. Once home we put the gear away, and put the top box onto the car for the summer.
And with all the jobs done a lot earlier than expected we went out for a little drive. One of my geocaches had been reported to have a wet log so we went out and replaced one dry log with another. And then we went on to three more caches.
Home for a curry, and more 5-hydroxy-tryptophan...
I went to bed last night still feeling icky. I slept till 2.20am, then dozed fitfully for the rest of the night. I finally got up just after 6am still not feeling one hundred per cent. I came downstairs to find that Fudge also seemed under the weather. Poor pup.
Mind you I'm wondering if my dodgy innards were more to do with the chocolate limes I scoffed on the way home on Tuesday evening, or having had my evening meal at 11pm for two nights running. As for the cause of the dog's malady I expect he's eaten something else that he shouldn't have.
Fudge then helped me eat my morning's toast (he likes toast) as I watched my dose of BattleStar Galactica, and as DLA arrived, so I set off to work. I needed an apple to go with lunch, but I couldn't be doing with calling in at the farm shop. Supermarkets do apples which are of better quality than the ones at the farm shop, and are cheaper too. Sad, but true. Whilst in the supermarket I looked for a yo-yo (for geocaching purposes). I couldn't find one, so I asked an assistant for help. This request foxed her, and she called over some colleagues. None of them had ever heard of the concept of a supermarket selling any sort of toy (let alone a yo-yo), so I gave up. The nice lady in the cheapo bargains shop was insistent that they had yo-yos. She had no idea where they were, and she couldn't locate them, but she was sure that they had some somewhere. Perhaps they have.
And so to work. I was greeted by a colleague who looked stressed. She stopped me and asked me if I thought she looked stupid. I wasn't getting involved, so I told her I was taking the Fifth Amendment (the right to remain silent) and left her to it.
A little bit later I took the opportunity to fan the flames by asking her if she had got the answer to her question. Mind you, it turns out (so she told me) that she is extremely intelligent, but she hides her light under a bushel. I do much the same. It is best to conceal the fact that one is a genius; society expects much less from tattoo-ed bald thugs than it does from geniuses.
Talking of geniuses, I was asked today which animal was it that only had one leg. My inquisitor was sure that there was a species of fauna that only sported one leg. She maintained that there was a colony of whatever-they-weres at Blean bird park.
And so home, where I am hoping for a good night's sleep. A colleague swears by 5-hydroxy-tryptophan which he assures me gives him a good sleep every night. He's given me some of the stuff to try. It comes from Holland and Barrett so it must be good sh*t (!) According to the Internet as well as aiding sleep, 5-hydroxy-tryptophan has all sorts of other benefits including curbing the appetite, reducing the symptoms and complications of cerebellar ataxia, lessening the symptoms experienced during alcohol withdrawal and reducing symptoms of mania. That's a result.
Mind you the stuff isn't without it's down side. Reported side effects include heartburn, nausea, upset stomach, diarrhea, muscle cramps, gas, bloating, and lack of sexual desire (which is probably for the best!)
I've taken the tablets. Let's see what happens.
I slept reasonably well last night, but woke this morning feeling decidedly iffy. I then spent a rather unpleasant ten minutes in "trap one" trying to decide which end I should point at the porcelain. Gastro-intestinal difficulties are (in my experience) a subject of hilarity; albeit in rather bad taste. Unless (of course) it's me with the icky guts.
I had seen the weather forecast for the day - glorious sunshine. So I had planned on an early start. A long walk for "Furry Face TM" and home before the day got too hot. But overnight the weather forecast had changed. At 8am the sky was black and rain was predicted from 10am onwards. So with bad weather coming and my guts not being on top form I abandoned the idea of a long walk and we just went round the block.
As we came home so the sun came out. I put some washing into the washing machine and gardened for a bit. lawns don't mow themselves, nor do fish pond filters clean themselves. With gardening done I put the washing on the line, filled the toilet for the umpteenth time (yuk!) and took myself off to bed for an hour. When I woke Daddies Little Angel TM" was in residence. She was shouting into her mobile to "fams" and "bluds". I wish she wouldn't. I brought in dry washing, put more wet washing onto the line, filled the toilet again and went back to bed.
The afternoon was equally dull. I got the beer out of the bucket and into the barrel. I got a dozen shirts ironed and I watched a psychology lecture before going back to bed. er indoors TM" came home and we took "Furry Face TM" for a walk. We could have walked further but I wasn't feeling one hundred percent. We came home and I slept for an hour before tea.
I didn't eat as much as I would have liked to. "Furry Face TM" was also sick this evening...
A bit of a rant today, I'm afraid. But it does lead on from yesterday's witterings...
Yesterday I whinged that no one was at all interested in dealing with the feral horse that savagely attacked me the other day. There are those who mock my being savagely attacked by a feral horse; but what do they know? It's something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.... I've spent forty years mocking the equinophobic but now I'm conceding that they might possibly have a point, but I digress. Again.
Amongst those who couldn't give a stuff about feral horses are Kent Police. I shall rant about them (again) today...
Being able to say "I told you so" might be satisfying to the person saying it; but it is always something of a pyrrhic victory. Regular readers of this drivel may have worked out that I am not a fan of the local police force. Over the years they have made all sorts of blunders to which I can personally testify. They have wrongly arrested people dear to me; and then (having released them with no apology) made it clear that that wronged individual is not to make a complaint. They have refused to charge security staff at Ashford International Station who were recorded on closed circuit TV assaulting a member of my family. They have refused to investigate a break-in to a family friend's car, saying that CSI-style investigations is something they only do when they aren't busy elsewhere. They have cautioned people for trivial offences despite those people having plenty of witnesses to testify that they were miles away at the time of the alleged incident. They refuse to go take a look at a dangerous horse in a field near Biggin Hill (!)
When I have sent written complaints to the Chief Constable about these and other incidents I have had phone calls from the police telling me that they are the police, and I should learn my place and not complain.
For years I've publically run down the Boys in Blue, and now it seems I was right all along. They *are* rubbish. I heard on the radio this morning that finally their failings have been recognised publically.
H.M. Inspectorate of Constabulary has found that Kent Police wrongly classified a quarter of the crimes recorded on their books; among these mis-classified crimes being rapes and robberies.
This is terrible, but in Kent Police's defence (and it pains me to defend the 'bules) it would seem that they have been running an "institutional bias towards chasing numerical targets for solving crime". The media reported this as though it was some sort of revelation. This is the cause of the sorry state of our police force; needless paperwork.
It is far easier for a copper to nick a tramp for vagrancy or to nick some dopey students smoking kippers in the park than it is for them to catch burglars hours after the event. Because an easy nick is a quick nick and it looks better when counting the nicks. And in this age of league tables of course the police are going to go for the easy option to get to the top of the pile.
As a society we should realise that it is time to abandon scoring policing on crimes solved in this way. That way the police can stop fannying about on trivial incidents that don't warrant investigating (like formally investigating an allegation that I murdered someone's wife ten years before I ever met that person). The police might then be able to concentrate on the important stuff.
However I doubt this will happen. League tables are politically correct at the moment. Schools have been playing silly beggars to score well in league tables for years; even though everyone thinks they are a bad idea.
Meanwhile in more trivial circles my neck still hurts. Too much rounders I expect. Mind you the aching leg is getting better.
Not that I will be shutting up about that horse any time soon...
I got some petrol this morning on my way to work, and then popped in to Morrisons to get some shopping. As I was walking out something in the newspaper stands caught my eye.
In Ashford we are about to get a lot less dustbin collections and instead have a lot more recycling. We will have to separate recyclables from rubbish, and put our food waste in different bins from perishables. Blue rubbish will have to go into the yellow tub whilst red waste will have to go into the aquamarine receptive. And so on.
This kind of active sorting of waste has been going on for some time in Canterbury. And now it turns out that despite people's best efforts to sort refuse into its constituent rubbish, when the bin men collect it, they just chuck it all into the same skip.
Apparently three bin men are up for the sack because of this revelation. Personally I can't help but wonder if this is for their chucking the various flavours of tat all in together, or if this is because they got caught doing so.
And then my phone rang. Regular readers of this drivel may recall that I got hoofed (literally) by a horse a week ago. Last Monday I contacted "sue them dot com". Today the legal-eagles at "sue them dot com" phoned me back to say they weren't interested in my case, but wondered if I wanted to have a pop at my bank for mis-sold PPI insurance.
So, to recap... I was the victim of an unprovoked attack from an uncontrolled horse on a public right of way. Whilst I survived the incident, it was purely luck. Had the blow hit my shin then a bone would have been broken. Had the blow hit a child it could have killed them. The landowner doesn't care, nor does the owner of the horse. The police are utterly disinterested, as are "sue them dot com". The Ramblers Association don't want to get involved; they have referred me to the local council who have still to get back to me after a week's inactivity.
Perhaps I should go turn that horse into glue and/or dog food and then see if everyone is still unconcerned...
Over a spot of brekkie I reflected on the date. Today is the start of the coarse fishing season. In years gone by I would have been dashing out to go fishing. Fishing is something I've let slip recently. The coldblow syndicate would seem to have ended. A shame really; but I only used my coldblow membership once last year. Twenty quid for one afternoon is a bit steep. In fact I think I've only been fishing twice over the last three years.
And then Fudge started woofing. There was someone in the garden. A geocacher looking for the cache. I went out and had a chat, as you do. It was someone I've not seen at any of the meets, but a name I recognised, and it was good to chat.
"My Boy TM" called and we set off. There was a "Dad's Day" event organised for the fathers in the family. Over a dozen of us met up at Uncle Fred's yard and once the rain had passed the sun came out. We had a wonderful afternoon picniccing in the sunshine, flying power kites, playing rounders, having a barby. I particularly liked the barbecue which was cunningly made out of the drum of an old washing machine. I might just have to copy that idea for myself.
I fell asleep in the sunshine; and woke to find people saying their goodbyes. We went on to Dan-World where we watched Man vs Food and had take-out kebabs. Very nice,
I think I ricked my neck when I fell over playing rounders. It hurts to move my head...
I was really late to bed last night, and had no burning need to be up particlarly early. But still I woke at 4am. I pootled about for a bit and watched some DVDs until my beloved emerged from her pit.
The Lisa-mobile arrived and we set off to Dover. There is a geocache in the drop redoubt rated 5/5 - very difficult terrain; very difficult to find. Bearing in mind that the drop redoubt isn't open very often we thought we'd try for it today. 5/5 caches aren't common and we didn't want to turn down the chance to find it. It was actually a relatively easy cache to find.
We'd taken Furry Face with us. Dogs were allowed in. I've been there beefore so I knew what to expect. For some reason I didn't think they'd be doing re-enactments. They were. The bangs of the rifles terrified the poor pup. I took him out, but he was shivering in fear. I sat quietly with him, but he was inconsolable, actually having a tiddle acident when one particularly loud bang went off. Poor pup.
We soon left the drop redoublt and wandered the Western Heights looking for other caches. We found three more. One of which was particularly ingenious. I had hoped to do a bit of tunnel-ratting, but someone had securely fastened the entrance to the St Margarets deep shelter, which was a shame.
There were picnic tables at the car park and we watched the ferries coming and going before moving on to Samphire Hoe for a wander. Samphire Hoe is rather scenic, but it is also very windswept.
And so home. I mucked about ordering more lego on-line for a while, and then the clans gathered. We then wandered round to Denmark Road for an engagement party. Cans of spitfire were poured down necks along with lager and sambucca. There were rumours of mankinis, but only rumours.
We got the Singstar out. I lost comprehensively - even at Wizzard and Sparks when singing against someone who wasn't born until twenty years after Wizzard and Sparks heyday.
And so home. Leaving the womenfolk crashed on the sofas I tootled off to my pit, hoping that over a gallon of booze would have a soporific effect. It usually does.
I was up with the lark and watching the antics of Apollo and Starbuck at 5.30am today. It's only recently that I realised that the chap who played the part of Apollo in the original 1970s BattleStar Galactica played the part of the arch-nasty in the recent re-make.
And so to work. I say "work" - I was on a course today so I wasn't at my usual haunt, but in Margate instead. As a treat I arrived early and had a fry up. I have often thought about adding a page to this blog entitled "the Perfect Fry-up". I've had excellent frips (to coin a phrase) in all sorts of places. I'm afraid today's wouldn't rate highly though.
I did my course which was on the dull side. It finished at mid day, and I'd arranged to take the rest of the day as holiday. By an amazing stroke of luck the course was held just up the road from a shop in Ramsgate which sold geocaching supplies. I'd arranged to call in to see them. Firsttofind.co.uk was a rather impressive name for a web site. But as a shop - I was disappointed. Whilst their stock is good, they are really an on-line business. I had been hoping to have a mooch round a shop and have a good browse. Instead when I finally found the place (it took some finding) it was effectively just a counter. They probably had loads of stuff, but weren't geared up for passing trade, which was a shame. But I found the cache just down the road from the place.
Whilst I was in the area I picked up a puzzle cache I'd solved some time ago and was saving until such time as I was passing (like today)
The puzzle was reasonably straight forward, and (I think) that this cache will stay in my cacher-stats for some time as it is the most easterly cache in the UK for miles around. I had planned to go on to Ramsgate harbour to hunt out some caches there, but what looked like a short walk on the map looked a bit further in reality. So I contented myself with watching the kite surfer for a few minutes.
And so home to find my lego train tracks had arrived from eBay. I would have got the tracks out but "Daddies Little Angel TM" was in residence and Skinhead was visiting. Much as I enjoy embarrassing the fruits of my loin, I wouldn't want my Dad to get his lego out when my mates were about.
Once er indoors TM" came home we got "Furry Face TM"'s lead on him and went to Dungeness for a walk. It was a really good evening for a wander; we had the entire area to ourselves. "Furry Face TM"' did disgrace himself when he got a whiff of a rabbit, and there's no denying that I wish he hadn't been carrying a fish head around quite so much, but you can't have everything...