28 November 2015 (Saturday) - A Booze Up
I was rather late to bed last night. I managed about four hours sleep. After having been wide awake for seemingly ages I got up to find it was only 5.30am. But being wide awake I thought I'd get some laundry on then watch some telly. "You, Me and the Apocalypse" was rather good; only eight hours till the apocalypse now.
I had a little look-see on social media. Having seemingly offended the universe yesterday I would appear to have managed not to have wound anyone up overnight. Mind you I must admit to being somewhat offended myself. Over the years I've inadvertently caused offence on-line several times. Why is it that those who are so quick to take offence at what I see as humourous whilst they themselves and their nearest and dearest post racist and sexist claptrap? Why is it acceptable to poke fun at me because I am fat, bald and always falling asleep? (three things I *really* don't like)
Perhaps I'm just a little over-sensitive? Bearing that in mind I had a little cull of my Facebook list. It would seem that one of those who wouldn't have survived the cull had already blocked me. Oh dear.
With brekkie scoffed I popped the lead onto "Furry Face TM" and took him out. I’d had reports that one of my Bethersden geocaches had gone missing so we drove out to Bethersden for a look-see. Sure enough it wasn’t there. Someone had trashed the hide I’d made for the cache, so I made a new hide and put out a new sandwich box.
As we walked back I saw the biggest buzzard you ever did see. I say “buzzard”; pterodactyl might have been closer to the actual fact of the matter.
We then popped up to Bethersden church to track down a geocache I’d failed to locate on several previous occasions. I finally found it today. I was pleased about that: today was a “calendar day”.
We came home to an empty house; "er indoors TM" had gone off to the candlemonger's winder extravaganza. A certain dog had a bath, and the washing machine worked its magic on my smalls as I did some dull household paperwork.
First of all I had a look at the household accounts. They’ve been worse. I did notice a payment of nine quid to Genes Reunited. I’ve not used that website for at least four quid so I asked the bank to stop payments. They’ve referred it to the “disputes team” who don’t work at weekends.
Then I had a go at the letter rack. I found a missing Ordnance Survey map of the Ashford area. I knew it would turn up eventually.
I found the renewal letter for the household building and contents insurance. It was as well it was set to automatically renew.
I found the renewal letter for the washing machine insurance cover. On the one hand I could pay out for a new washing machine. On the other hand for less than the price of a round of drinks once a month I can have the nice man come out to the house and fix whatever is wrong with the old machine. I shall stick with what I know.
I had yet another letter from the dentist telling me about the administrative changes they are making that won’t affect me in the slightest.
The power company sent me information about downloading their app. Heaven only knows why my gas meter needs an app.
I found my HCPC registration certificate. I might need that.
Virgin media had sent me a ton of rubbish despite my asking them not to do so.
There was a reminder that I needed to get my boiler serviced (from the chap who did it).
There was a newsletter from the Howletts Foundation which went straight in the bin.
There was also a newsletter from the RNIB which also went straight in the bin.
In fact probably the only thing worth having out of that letter rack was the Secret Santa gift I’d bought for next weekend’s geo-xmas-bash. I’d been wondering what I’d done with that pressie.
Having a few minutes spare I had a look on-line to see how my geo-trackables are doing. For those of my loyal readers who have better things to do with their lives a geo-trackable can be absolutely anything. You put them in a geocache and someone finds it and moves it on (and logs on-line that they have done so) and you can follow the progress of the things are they go round the world.
In practice I have eight of the things. I say “have”; there are eight that I have set loose into the wild. I now have no real involvement with them.
“The Homesick Alien” has completely vanished and is actually lost.
“The Brighton Kite Flier” is in a sandwich box near Folkestone.
“Mr Manky’s stunt double” looks to have run out of steam somewhere in north Kent.
“The World’s Sexiest Chip Fork” is currently in a sandwich box near Bristol.
“Oh Pooh” looks as if it is in Devon.
“Pisces-ed as a rat” seems to be in the vicinity of the amazingly named town of Gaylord Minnesota.
“Clowning Around The World” seems to be lost somewhere in Germany
In fact there is only “Adventures in Space (and time)” that seems to be currently active.
"Daddies Little Angel TM"phoned. Sam-I-Am doesn't seem to be too well after his accident yesterday. There was talk of his going back to hospital.
And then I took the train down to Folkestone. The train ride was fun. there was a rather attractive young lady (with legs all the way up to her bum and rather kinky boots) pontificating to an audience of admirers. She came out with some howlers: "I always wanted a dog. I wanted a polecat" and "if I don't persevere I will give up".
I'd arranged to have a weak shandy with Jimbo. We started off in the Firkin which is getting busier and busier. After two pints we made out way to the Pullman for a pint of "Mister Chubb". We had then planned to go to the British Lion but it was closed so the Guildhall (and smoked porter) is always a good back-up plan. Half an hour's catching up with an old friend in Kipps was then followed by an investigation into the Red Cow. I've walked past this place so many times over the last thirty years and had never gone in, I won't go in again. And then a farewell pint in the Park Inn before a kebab and the train home.
Things became rather vague as the afternoon wore on but I gave the Untappd app on my phone a good workout....