22 October 2014 (Wednesday) - Boobs, Brushes, FTF
I slept for six or so hours last night; not bad at all. But I woke with a sense of foreboding; I was sure bad news was in the offing. I wonder what that was all about.
I came downstairs and opened the gate to the dog cage. "Furry Face TM" didn't stir. I wonder if keeping the dog cage after he's completely better might be a good idea; when he sleeps in his basket (or on my lap) the slightest noise would have him leaping up. When he is sleeping his cage he is utterly sparko and would sleep though anything.
Over brekkie I watched an episode of "Jeeves and Wooster" that I'd recorded onto the SkyPlus box. It was the one with "Ask Dad" and Cyril Bassington Bassington; but it was never revealed whether Cyril was a Shropshire, Hampshire or Kent Bassington Bassington. As Bertie says, the world is adequately stocked with Bassington Bassingtons. Mind you I've lived in Kent for over thirty years and have yet to encounter one.
I do like "Jeeves and Wooster" but there is no denying that I have seen every episode too many times.
Yesterday I mentioned I'd bought the makings of some Christmas beer; with a little time on my hands this morning I thought I might make a start on getting the stuff going before work. I emptied the old sterilising jollop out of my beer bucket and replaced it with fresh stuff ready for later use; but then disaster struck. I hadn't cleaned out the beer barrel since I last used it. It was a bit rank (!) so I swilled it out, put some water in it to soak, and spent my spare time in search of a bottle brush with which to scrub it.
Bybrook Barn didn't have one, but they did have an unfound (by me) geocache nearby. I then drove into Canterbury to see what I could find. As I drove I realised that I was going past one of the geocaches that went live on Monday. With the First to Find still waiting to be had on that particular one I couldn't just drive past and leave it unclaimed. So I stopped... FTF - happy dance.
I got some sugar for my beer from Morrisons, but they didn't have a bottle brush. The spotty assistant had never even heard of the concept of a brush. Bless (!) Neither Argos nor Boots had bottle brushes. The cheapo-bargains shop also let me down too, but I did have a wry smile in there. "Daddies Little Angel TM" has been struggling to maintain her modesty whilst feeding littlun recently. In the cheapo-bargains shop was a new mother who had no truck with modesty. Her left boob was openly flopped out for all to behold, and a baby was being brandished in the general vicinity of said boob. The baby would have a nibble from time to time; otherwise it just stared into space whilst the boob flopped around. As boobs are (sometimes) wont to do.
I would have taken a photo, but I had a vague feeling that it wasn't really the polite thing to do.
Fortunately I eventually found a traditional hardware shop in Wincheap. Real old-school; it actually smelled like a hardware shop should smell. They had the brush I needed.
When I commented on the matter to a colleague she said that this was typical; the thing you for which you are searching is always in the last place to which you go. That expression boils my piss. Of course things you look for are always in the last place you look. Who keeps searching for something once they've found it? (Dur!)
Work was much the same as work usually is; at lunchtime I had an interesting interlude during sax practice. I was at the far end of the works car park giving "Greensleves" a tootle when a little old lady came marching across and wanted to know if I was the bloke who usually plays his instrument in the car park at lunch times. I toyed with asking if she'd seen any others, but instead I decided to smile sweetly. This little old lady had a complaint. My heart sank. But it wasn't bad news; her complaint was that I was playing too far away from the hospital. It turned out that this little old lady was something to do with the head injury rehabilitation unit and apparently her patients had been asking to listen to live music. They'd asked if I would give a recital.
I must admit I'm not keen on the idea, but I suppose I must be improving for her to come and ask...