21 July 2013 (Sunday) - Stuff
Some nights "Furry Face TM" sleeps on my bed. I wish he wouldn't; but I was reliably assured that last night I was fast asleep with my hand on his head. We (apparently) looked rather sweet. I can't see that somehow - I never wanted a dog (!)
Despite (or perhaps because of) the dog on my bed I was awake at 4.30am this morning, and was up and pootling before 5.30am. I had brekkie and a double helping of BattleStar Galactica. That show is going through a rather depressing phase at the moment.
I checked my emails. A new geocache had gone live only five miles north according to the morning's missives. The chance of an FTF would give me something to do on the way to work so I got ready quickly, checked the geo-map, and couldn't see any new caches. So I re-checked the email. Whoops(!)
Whilst away in Brighton last week I'd set up an email alert for any new caches within a few miles of where we were camping. And it would seem that message alert is still active. This new cache was in Burgess Hill; some fifty miles away. I'd better turn that alert off, hadn't I?
But filled with geo-enthusiasm I thought I'd pick up a cache on the way to work this morning. There was one I'd had my eye on for a couple of months. It was (and is) on my way to work, but involved parking the car along the A28 and walking cross country for half a mile or so (there and back). I parked up in the lay-by at Chartham by the caravan shop and walked down the clearly marked footpath. The footpath went past a house. As I came close to this house a grumpy-looking chap came out and asked if he could help me. I politely declined his offer and followed the footpath. This bloke folded his arms and watched me walk past. After a few seconds I could sense something; I turned to find I was being followed. When I stopped walking, grumpy-pants stopped walking. When I started walking, so did he. If I backtracked, he turned around as well. After a few minutes of playing silly beggars I stopped, stared at him and folded my arms. Eventually he mumbled and muttered and turned round and went off.
With him gone I soon found myself on the Route 18 cycle path which follows the river to Canterbury. Regular readers of this drivel may recall that a group of a dozen of us walked along this path earlier in the year. It's a rather beautiful place to walk. I soon found the cache, and having done the secret geo-ritual then made my way back to my car. As I walked past his house I sarcastically waved at Mr Grumpy-Pants who was glowering at me from his kitchen window.
I carried on with my journey. Being a Sunday the talk on the radio was on matters ecclesiastical. Today some bishop or other was attempting to appear modern and trendy by attempting to twist the meanings of certain obscure passages of the Bible to try to show that (in the eyes of his church) there is nothing wrong with being gay. I've mentioned this before so many times, but it always boils my piss. Personally I have no problem with anyone being gay, trans, intro, hyper or whatever. Whatever anyone wants to be, or is, is fine with me. but the Bible is crystal clear on the subject It says being gay is wrong. It actually says that very clearly in several places. Here's four of them for a start: Lev. 18:22, Lev. 20:13,1 Cor. 6:9-10, Rom. 1:26-28.
I do wish today's church wouldn't try to twist the meaning of the Bible to try to make themselves look politically correct. Totally ignoring their scriptures can only undermine their credibility.
The next chap on the radio drivelled about the sanctity and wonder of music in worship. To hear him speak was wonderful; he seemed so credible and articulate. It was a shame he chose some of the most dire organ music I've ever heard to fail to illustrate his point.
And so to work. I don't mind working at the weekends; it gives me time off in the week to do what I like. But I did have just the tiniest sulk today that for the second year running I'd missed the Pirate Day celebrations in Hastings.
And that got me thinking about the old home town. When I moved away from the place in 1984 it was going downhill fast. And now nearly thirty years later the place has changed beyond recognition. Earlier in the year I went back there for the Jack in the Green celebrations. Today I'm missing the Pirate Day. I always miss the pram race and the carnival. Later in the year I shall go back for the bonfire parade.
Talking of which, I really should start sorting out dates for bonfire parades...