14 June 2014 (Saturday) - To Church

It sounds like some new people have moved in next door; I heard voices at 7am; then I went back to sleep for a bit. I finally got up shortlly after 9am and took "Furry Face TM" round the park where we played with his ball. He's still struggling to understand the concept of "fetch"; he either tries to eat the ball, or runs off chasing it until it stops bouncing at which point he looses interest and goes off sniffing after whatever else he can find.
On our walk today we attacked Bernie, played with Ralph, chased a squirrel up a tree, fought with another Patagonian Tripe-Hound, and scared a "duckie" who looked like he was "good with colours" and/or "baked a moist sponge".
This "duckie" was rather precious: every time Fudge (or any other dog) went near his dog (which looked somewhat like an effeminate feather duster) the "duckie" shrieked, picked his dog up and minced in circles until the offending pooches went away. I do hope this "delightful fellow" won't be a permanent fixture in the Viccie Park dog walking scene. There are enough "plums" there already; we don't need any more who feel that their pampered pooch should be the only dog allowed in the park.

I did have something of a sulk tooday; by rights we should have been camping this weekend. The second full weekend in June has traditionally been the first Teston kite festival of the year.
But for various reasons (which I have blogged to death in the past) June Teston doesn't happen any more; which is a shame.

Last night Jason gave me a cheque for the astro club; I thought I'd pay it into the bank so I drove to town. At the very last minute I remembered that I still had the roof box on the car. Woops. Haivng narrowly avoided smacking the box off of the car I went to a car park without height barriers which I could get into. I paid the money into the bank, I got a McBanana milk shake for lunch, and I got myself a sexy new hat too.
Whilst out and about I got petrol. For over two years I've been getting petrol in Canterbury as it's cheaper there than in Ashford. A new place has opened on Ashford's ring road doing the cheapest petrol for miles around. I coulnd't turn that down.

On to my sax lesson which went well. My intermittent squawkiness is due to my embrochure. Apparently. I'm not getting a consistent seal of my gob around my mouthpiece. Teacher's sax has a much flatter mouthpiece. She gave me a website of a place in Crowborough which does all sorts of saxohone bits and pieces. But nothing on their website is cheap. A new mouthpiece looks to cost more than my entire saxophone cost me in the first place. But Crowborough isn't *that* far away. I could go for a day out, if nothing else. Looking at the map it's not a million miles away from Telescope House; I might blag the asto club into a day trip.

"Daddies Little Angel TM" came to visit; she'd had a twenty-something week scan. Her and "Spudgun" (the baby's latest name) seem to be doing well. I played my sax at her until she said it sounded nice, then we drove her home.

And so to church. Enrique was being confirmed. The service was interesting; it was conducted by the Bishop's stunt double, the Bishop himself having recently croaked. His sermon was wonderful to hear. He started off with some serious sensible and reasonable propositions and slowly introduced aspects of religious uncertainty. So slowly and insiduously were they introduced that suddenly complete gibberish was being presented as plausible fact. Mind you I did have more than a passing snigger at the alter-boy who looked just like the TV detective Columbo.
However as easy as it wold be to ridicule the entire thing I found myself watching the priest and the lance-Bishop intently. No matter how nonsensical their propositions, from their expressions it was clear they fervently beleived in it.

Afterwards Maria had put on a buffet. Very tasty...

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