31 October 2025 (Friday) - A Walk, New Glasses, Geo-Meet

 

I woke in the small hours with a dilemma. I had plenty of bed space but needed the loo. I could either keep the bed space and be bursting for a tiddle for the rest of the night, or I could get up and lose the bed space to the dogs. I got up and when I came back where there had been space for everyone there was no longer space for anyone. I eventually secured a bit of space as half-asleep dogs grumbled about being shoved over.

 

I got up at eight o’clock and turned on the radio. The pundits on that radio were talking about how the King has declared that his brother is no longer a prince. Bearing in mind that there’s been no formal judgement on the allegations against Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (as he is now known), is the King just going with something that will make him popular with the masses? I’m not defending Andrew at all, but would the late Queen have done this? Not that I have any faith in the courts or the judicial system, but so much for the principle of “innocent until proven guilty”, eh?

Interestingly this very question appeared in a YouGov poll I did later today in which I found that only five per cent of the population feel that the King has been a tad hasty here. Eighty-nine per cent of those asked feel the King was right to take the “prince” title from him. Oh well… I’ve always known that I was in the minority.

I also saw that a blog entry from September had received a comment overnight. Clifford Esther had posted a load of claptrap about a spiritual herbalist who had casted all sorts of magical spells to his advantage. If any of my loyal readers would like to avail themselves of the services of a spell-casting spiritual herbalist then good luck to them. I’m not encouraging that sort of nonsense.

 

I Munzed, had two goes at Wordle and got stuck, got dressed and “er indoors ^TM” joined us for our walk in the woods today. And with her along we had no nonsense or shenanigans at all. No one rolled in anything, no one waded in anything. As we walked we saw that someone had put fairy doors at the bases of some of the trees, and we saw deer too.

We walked for four miles, and got back to the car just as the forecast rain started. We came home, had a Whitby bun for lunch then I popped into town to get my new glasses. I went to Boots, they spent a few minutes checking they fitted right, and I was on my way and home within an hour. I’m always a tad dubious with new glasses ever since one of the major optician chains gave me double vision a few years ago.

The new glasses don’t seem that much different to the old ones… I suppose that’s as it should be.

 

With a little time on my hands I wrote up some more CPD. For all that I have to keep a record of what I do to ensure I keep up to date with work-related matters (it’s the law!), sometimes I wonder if I overdo it. And other times I winder if I don’t do enough. I take the line of “little and often”. Other colleagues don’t do often, but when they do some CPD they write a full-blown essay. I suppose I’ll find if I’m doing it right if and when I get called up for formal audit of what I’ve done. Five per cent of us (registered biomedical scientists) get formally audited once every two years. Our audit time was last month, so I’m good until 2027, and anything might happen in the meantime. I might retire completely (unlikely). I might completely change career (unlikely). I might drop dead (best not, eh?) 

I’ll carry on doing CPD…

 

Once the rain eased up we drove down to Rye for a little geo-session. Last Sunday we went out hunting geocaches that qualified us for the “Plush Bird Watching” series of geo-Treasures. There’s some of those in Rye, and there was a geo-meet too.

We wandered here, there and thither getting the geocaches. Half way through we had a little rest and popped in to the Waterworks (a micro-pub in the old toilets) where we had toffee-apple cider, a very good porter, and pork scratchings, and then went up to The Mermaid where the geo-meet was taking place. I must admit to a degree of bias – up until now. I’ve not liked The Mermaid… widely billed as the best pub in Rye (by far), when I last visited the place, the staff knew that it was widely billed as the best pub in Rye (by far) and consequently were up their own arse about it. But things have clearly changed in the meantime.  We had a very good meet-up this evening, and having had a very good experience there I’d certainly go back to the place.

 

We came home. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner and we scoffed it whilst watching last night’s episode of “The Traitors”. There’s only one more episode to go… are the Traitors going to win?

 

And in closing today I’ve decided to do Movember (for the third time). Feel free to contribute by clicking here. I’ve randomly set a target of raising a hundred quid… I’m up to thirty quid already.

30 October 2025 (Thursday) - Not At Work

As I scoffed toast a friend of mine was posting to Facebook about the current situation in Sudan. Thousands of people were killed yesterday, the atrocities are horrible… why was there no mention of this in the news?

I listen to BBC Radio Four news on my drive to work and my drive home (on the days I work) – it’s probably about two hours a day,  There are those who accuse them of bias… both my seriously left wing and right wing friends hate the BBC so I assume they must be somewhere in the middle. They seem to cover the same sorts of things from one day to the next, which is pretty much the same sort of things that every other news outlet is covering… And there’s a lot that doesn’t get mentioned.

I find myself wondering just who decides what is newsworthy and what slant to put on it. Take the Prince Andrew debacle for example. Everyone wants him hoiked out of his rent-free mansion. A week or so ago there was an interview with a representative of the agency who agreed the arrangement for his lease. At the time they felt it was a good deal for them. Now they’ve changed their minds pretty much because that’s what the media feel. I suspect the Gaza war gets mentioned because this causes allegations of antisemitism which is a subject dear to many people’s hearts, and that makes for heated interviews and is entertaining.

There’s forty-five wars going on right now. I doubt the average person listening to any UK news agency has heard of more than two or three of them.

 

I Munzed, started having a go at Wordle, but got stuck after two goes so as “er indoors ^TM” gave the dogs their scran I got dressed.

I took the dogs up to the woods. As we drove there was a rather interesting program about bird migrations. How do they know where to go? Why do they go? Why don’t all birds go? Why do older and younger birds go at different times? The answer to all the questions was “don’t really know” but there were several interesting theories. The people being interviewed had been working on these questions for years. I would be crap at being a full-time academic. I would soon lose interest and start wondering about something else.

 

We got to the woods where autumn has seriously hit the place with a vengeance. With fallen leaves everywhere it was very hard to see what was footpath and what wasn’t.

We walked a different route to any of our usual ones; I had reports of one of my geocaches to the south of the woods being missing. We got to where it was, and I could see it from five yards away. I hid it like it was supposed to be hidden, and we carried on with our walk. We waded in swamps, we chased squirrels, joggers and a buzzard, we bothered normal people and rolled in horse poo. A great time was had by all.

We were at the woods rather later than usual today, and the place was really busy. We must have met half a dozen other groups. Usually seeing two is a lot.

As we drove home the war in Sudan was the headline news at mid day…

 

We got home where the dogs had a bath. Treacle had been in the swamps. Morgan had been rolling in horse poo. And Bailey got a scrub just in case.

I then sat in front of the telly and watched some episodes of “Four In A Bed”. Four Bed & Breakfast establishments went into competition… the first was rather eco-friendly but pleasant enough. The second was run by a chap with a rather nasty assistant manager who tried to underpay everyone. The third was run by a chap who spent all his time on the golf course, trusting his business to inexperienced schoolgirl cleaners, and the fourth run by some new-age hippy who regularly had conversations with the rooms in her B&B (the actual rooms!). The first lot won for the simple reason that by going first they hadn’t had any chance to fall out with everyone else.

I then passed judgement on a trainee’s homework then wrote up a little CPD as I do. It’s amazing how long it took to just get all my useful links into one list… and then I managed to trash that list by mistake and had to re-write it all from scratch. It only took an hour or so to find all the links I needed. I saved all the information this time though; as I might have mentioned before, backups are what you do after you've lost all your data.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good bit of dinner. Back in the day I used to be rather disparaging about anything which might be described as “healthy”. Back in the day I was over three stones heavier and with blood pressure through the roof. And not knowing what I was missing; it was very tasty. We washed it down with a bottle of Liebfraumilch. At three quid a bottle it wasn’t too shabby at all. And I followed it up with port and cheesy biccies.

As we scoffed and swussed we watched last night’s episode of “Celebrity Traitors” which was rather good. I won’t give spoilers, but it strikes me that it must be very different to play the game than it is to watch it.

Today has been a rather good day off… even if I did spend an hour marking a trainee’s essay.

29 October 2025 (Wednesday) - Still Dull

I slept better last night than I had done for some time, but was still up before five o’clock. I watched an episode of “The Comic Strip Presents”, then seeing nothing had happened on-line I set off to work.

 

As I drove to work so the pundits on the radio were talking about the new Home Secretary who has announced that the Home Office is not fit for purpose. There’s no denying there’s been a lot of Home Office balls ups over the last few months and years. Illegal immigrant sex offenders being released from prison, the Windrush and Horizon scandals… the new Home Secretary has a golden opportunity to sort it all out.

Bet she won’t.

And then there was a lot of talk about artificial intelligence. But no one was talking about whether it was a boon to humanity, whether it would take over the world… all anyone could talk about was how much money could be made from it.

A.I. could quite easily take over the world by whispering weasel words of profit into the right ears.

 

Pausing only briefly to get a sandwich from Tesco I went in to work for the early shift. Work was rather good today; but being at Pembury the journey there wasn’t the best,  and I drove home through failing light and heavy rain. I’ve often remarked that whilst I quite like working at Pembury I hate going there.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up dinner for me, and went off out with her mates. I settled in front of the telly and watched a film on Netflix. “I Am Mother” is billed on Wikipedia as an “Australian Cyberpunk thriller film“. Personally I’d describe it as a load of old tripe. 

Another load of tripe was the new series of Alan Partridge… Perhaps I’m being unfair to it? It reminded me of the Fawlty Towers play or the last six seasons of Red Dwarf in that whilst it was entertaining enough, there was nothing new in it at all.

 

Today has been dull… 

28 October 2025 (Tuesday) - Bit Dull Really

It was a shame that “er indoors ^TM” chose to have quite such an argument with the dogs on the first night that I’d managed a decent sleep for ages, but there it was.

Once woken I can rarely get back to sleep. I made toast, watched an episode of “The Comic Strip Presents” and had a look at the Internet. Overnight my godson’s father had posted one or two more comments. I first met my godson’s father in 1975 when we were at the Boys Brigade together. He lived next door to my future mother-in-law, and his sister was the best friend of “er indoors ^TM”. He’s not had much luck over the years. His sister died in 2005 aged only thirty-eight after a very protracted illness. His wife died very suddenly a couple of years ago. His brother was taken very ill over the summer and now needs continual nursing. Some people seem to get all the bad luck.

And I had an email from geocaching dot com in response to the whinge I’d sent them about the trackable debacle. They’d clearly read the first word and just sent a generic reply. I replied to that with “I would thank you for your reply, but instead I feel I should make the observation that over the last twelve years I have had cause to communicate with your office on several occasions. You have never once actually answered what I have asked“. Sadly that will be the end of the matter. They never engage in correspondence.

 

I got dressed; putting on a winter shirt. I have “summer” and “winter” shirts and as the clocks went back an hour on Sunday so the summer shirts went away and the winter shirts came out.

 

As I drove home yesterday my car had asked for some petrol, so I popped round to Sainsburys this morning to get it some. I could probably have saved myself a quid if I'd filled up at Aylesford, but probably didn't have enough petrol to get there.

Sainsbury's filling station was much the same as ever. It usually is.

 

As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio were talking about Jamaica where Hurricane Melissa was about to hit with wind speeds of over a hundred and seventy five miles per hour. Some local dignitary was on the radio making great show of only having five words to say: "Almighty father, please save us". You'd think that any god that was able to save anyone from the hurricane would never have sent the hurricane in the first place, wouldn't you? Mind you I can remember a religious crackpot of my acquaintance saying that god sends these tribulations as it likes us to ask it for help.

That's a bit odd, isn't it?

And there was talk about a disused army base near Inverness being repurposed to house asylum seekers. Apparently this wasn't a popular move as the average asylum seeker doesn't want to be housed in Scotland, and asylum seekers don’t stay in Scotland. They make their way to England.

At the risk of appearing to be heartless, they should be grateful that with the public's current attitude they are being allowed to stay at all. I must admit their being free to move came as something of a surprise to me. I naively thought that they stayed where they were put as though imprisoned. If they are free to go where they like, then it’s hardly surprising the country’s got a problem, is it? Or am I just being nasty?

And there was an interview with one of Reform UK's MPs who seemed to think that the Reform MPs and councillors who got into power at the last elections need longer to get to grips with being in power. He wouldn't hear a word against Kent County Council, but pretended he knew nothing about the Reform councillors there who've been thrown out of the party.

Mind you they made no secret that when (not if) they take over, asylum seekers will stay where they are put.

 

The motorway very busy this morning, but was so much easier to navigate than the country lanes to Pembury I've been taking recently.

I got to work and did my bit, and by home time it was completely dark.

 

I came home to find “er indoors ^TM” had been rummaging in the freezer and had found some liver and chicken breasts. She claimed they had gone off. Does frozen stuff go off? I thought that the whole point of a freezer was that stuff didn’t go off in there. She fried it all up for the dogs, and if it has gone off she can throw a bucket of water over any sloppy turds in the morning.

 

We had fish and chips for dinner and scoffed it whilst catching up with the current season of “Hunted” which is worth watching if only to laugh as “er indoors ^TM” gets progressively more and more wound up at the stupidity of the contestants. It would be so easy to do well at that show. You just set up a tent in the arse end of nowhere… where we are most likely to see the deer in Kings Wood, or Bailey’s rabbit hole at Orlestone would be ideal locations.

You arrange for friends of friends of friends to come past every couple of days with supplies.

And then you just keep your head down.

I could do it… if I could take my dogs. I would miss them.

27 October 2025 (Monday) - Intimations of Mortality

Again with this clocks going back nonsense I was once more wide awake far too early. If I lay in bed wide awake for any length of time my arms go numb and my legs hurt, which rather sucks.

I eventually got up and had a look at a rather dull Internet. Three friends on Facebook were having a birthday today. One I see quite regularly, one with whom I work, and one I’ve not seen in probably fifteen years. There were a few photos of the Koi that people were trying to sell on some of the pond-related Facebook groups. As I said on Saturday, pure-bred Koi don’t seem to be the prettiest of fish. Back when we dug the pond I only wanted Koi in it, but in the meantime ornamental goldfish, shubunkins and comets have become far prettier. Or Koi less pretty…

Other than that not a lot else had happened on the social media that I follow.

 

“Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” and Pogo had come up for a sleepover last night; Pogo came to the woods with us for our walk this morning. We went to Orlestone and had a good (if dull) walk. The highlight was Pogo screaming at the normal people, I wish he wouldn’t.

We came home and I sent a complaint to geocaching dot com. For years they’ve been selling “trackables”; a tag which you attach to something or other and you can then log its visit to every geocache you find. Each of the dogs has a trackable tag and from that you can tell that (for example) Bailey has travelled thirteen thousand three hundred miles between the geocaches she’s been to. However some people have been abusing the system and logging (literally) thousands of the things every time they find a film pot under a rock and the servers at geocaching dot com can’t cope. So to sort this, the “IT experts” at geocaching dot com have poggered the system so that you can only log twenty trackables every fifteen minutes, which makes my telling the world that I’ve found a film pot under a rock take far longer than it needs to if I find more than half a dozen.

I’ve complained to them in the past about similarly petty triviality. In the past they’ve not cared: I doubt they will be bothered by this one either.

I Munzed, got Wordle (fetid) on the third attempt and then drove “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” and Pogo home.

 

Once home I had some sad news. My godson has died. He was only thirty-four. His father had been on Facebook earlier saying he’d had a bad night with him. He went in to see him at eight o’clock this morning and that was it…

Over the years we’d never kept in touch as much as we should have done. I suppose it’s some small consolation that they came over for a few afternoons in the garden over the last couple of summers.

 

I went into the garden and pootled. Dog dung doesn’t gather itself. I mowed the lawn. Seeing how the grass seeds I planted a while ago had sprouted I planted some more. I say “planted”; I poked a hole in the bare soil with a tent peg and shoved one of the bird seeds into it. But after a while my back started hurting so I stopped and came inside.

I spent a little while looking at the house building and contents insurance. It runs out at the end of November so I can’t actually get the policy for a few days yet, but I thought I might as well start having a look. My current insurer wants nearly nine hundred quid for the next year and flatly refuses to go any cheaper. Hastings Direct want a few pence under five hundred quid. It’s a no-brainer, isn’t it?

 

I then dozed in front of the telly watching episodes of “The Comic Strip Presents” until “er indoors ^TM” boiled up sausages and chips before going bowling. I watched more Comic Strip while pondering today’s sad news. I’ve pondered little else for most of the day.

Death comes to us all. But at thirty-four?

 

And today marks my seven thousandth blog entry… 

26 October 2025 (Sunday) - Geo-Meet, Scenic Views, Treasures

The clocks went back an hour last night so I was wide awake an hour earlier than usual and spent far longer than I usually do laying awake, hurting every time I moved, and desperately wishing I hadn’t spent so much of yesterday evening fast asleep in front of the telly.

 

I put several clocks right, made coffee (but not toast this morning) and had a look at the Internet.

As I pootled on-line so I listened to the radio. As it does on Sunday mornings the radio was talking about religious stuff. It started off by trying to bridge the gap between churches trying to welcome in the gay community, and the Bible quite clearly saying that gay is wrong. Various windbags wittered on at length in the hope that if they blathered on long enough people would stop listening (it works with most sermons that most vicars make, doesn’t it?). It speaks volumes that no official representative of the Church of England and no bishops replied to the formal invitations to come on the show and speak.

And there was an interview with some Catholic or other who seemed to think that the Church of England have appointed a female Archbishop of Canterbury purely to spite them.

This was followed by a live broadcast from some church or other. Back in the day I was very religious, but it is some time since I saw the darkness. As I listened to the service I found myself again questioning the basic tenets of Christianity. Why did Jesus have to die? Because humanity didn’t follow God’s (frankly strange) rules? Couldn’t God have made those rules a tad more obvious to humanity? And why does the creator of the universe need to be told how wonderful it is all the time? Is it *really* that insecure?

In all my time in the church (I ended up a Steward in the Methodist Church you know) I never found any two people who actually agreed on what the Church was all about.

I don’t know the meaning of life or what life is all about, but from experience and observation I’m pretty sure that the Christian Church has got it wrong.

 

The Internet was much the same as ever. My social media feed was alternating between adverts for ornaments celebrating dead pets and people mourning the death of June Lockhart (Maureen Robinson in the 1960s TV show “Lost in Space”)

I had an email telling me that someone wanted to comment on this diary. Yesterday I mentioned that Florence and Stacy both thought they might try to get me to advertise their scam; overnight Arnold tried to get me to advertise the same one.

I Munzed and got Wordle (plump) on the last attempt, then walked up to town.

 

The monthly geo-meet-up was a breakfast meet in Wetherspoons this morning. Being spread over a couple of hours it’s quite possible I missed several friends, but I got there for the start and had the medium breakfast and chatted with a dozen friends until I got the message that “er indoors ^TM” was outside with the dogs. I took over dog duty and she came in for a bit.

Can you believe Wetherspoons don’t allow dogs in?

 

We then drove up to Sevenoaks. Bryan and CA had acquired a load of jigsaw puzzles that were surplus to requirements and wondered if “er indoors ^TM” might like them. It was good to catch up; for years we would meet up at kiting events but over the last few years we’ve hardly seen each other at all. We really must do something about that. We didn’t stay anywhere near as long as we might, but Treacle was getting very fractious and shouty.

 

From Sevenoaks we drove a few miles south to Leigh for the first of our dog walks. The latest “Treasures” thing on geocaching involves hunting out a particular sort of geocache with particular attributes, and there were thirteen of the things in Leigh. We had a very good walk; the terrain was flat, there weren’t any animals in the fields. It was a very good walk. Treacle had a good run, but Morgan and Bailey stayed on their leads. We didn’t really know the area, there were a lot of fences Bailey could have run through, and they had the red mist up having seen several squirrels.

The walk was called “The Sixty Minute Stroll”; it took us an hour and three quarters. From there we headed home, but took a little diversion at Sissinghurst where we parked in Digdog Lane and walked half a mile down to Sissinghurst Castle and back again as there were three more of those geocaches along that path.

The footpath from Digdog Lane to Sissinghurst Castle was perhaps one of the busiest footpaths I have ever seen; there were dozens of normal people wandering up and down. None of them saw us doing our geo-nonsense, but we did have to wait quite a while for the normal people to pass. Having Bailey in a bit of a barky mood helped to chivvy them away.

We set off with sixteen of these particular geocaches in our sights; we found fifteen. We had a rather good day today.

 

We came home for a rather late lunch of a cuppa with scones and jam and cream, and after a little slobbing about we had a very good dinner which we scoffed whilst watching “Canal Boat Diaries”. It’s a good show which follows the adventures of some chap sailing round the canals of the Midlands on his narrow boat.

I for one wonder how he finances this…

25 October 2025 (Saturday) - Dog Club, Fish Shop Open Day

I had a reasonable night I suppose, but was still awake too early, and was worrying if the dogs were warm enough. A strange thing to worry about – they seemed fine.

I made toast and had a little look at the Internet. As I sparked up my lap-top the anti-virus told me that it had upgraded its opinion of our home network to “trusted”… It’s had long enough to decide.

I saw my brother was off to watch football in Manchester. A round trip of over ten hours and five hundred miles. He and so many others clearly love it. I *really* wish I could see the attraction of football.

I saw a post from our MP on Facebook. He was grinning at the camera from the local hospice. I must admit to having great disappointment in our local MP. The last chap would go to the opening of an envelope to get his photo taken, and would manage to somehow take all the credit for everyone else’s efforts without actually saying or doing anything himself. And the new chap is doing much the same. I had such high hopes for him… my first ever Labour MP has turned out to be something of a let down.

I had an email from one of the people who walked round Kings Wood a month ago finding over a hundred geocaches in eight hours thanking me for the time and effort I put into the game. That was decent of him… So many people go charging off hunting for film pots under rocks without a thought for who puts the things out, and certainly with no intentions of hiding any themselves.

I also had a couple of comments to this blog overnight. Florence and Stacy both thought they might try to get me to advertise their scams. They thought wrong…

 

Steve was on the radio doing the Guess the Lyrics competition. “I want to tell you the things I know you’ve been waiting to hear”. No – me neither. Steve later told me it was Showaddywaddy - Under the Moon of Love.

As we listened so Treacle ran round the living room with a carrier bag. Knowing she wasn’t supposed to have it she made a point of running up to me and “er indoors ^TM”, proudly showing her treasure, and running off again.

 

We went round to Dog Club where we had a mostly good session. It was a shame that Morgan disgraced himself, but that’s the sort of dog he is.

With Dog Club done we came home. “er indoors ^TM” went off to craft club. I took the dogs home listening to the mystery year competition on the radio. Enola Gay by OMD, Robert Runcie becoming archbishop… 1980.

 

Once home I listened to Steve on the radio for a bit, then cracked on with the ironing whilst watching the last of The Forsyte Saga. It has to be said there were some thoroughly dislikable people in that show.

 

I had a little doze until “er indoors ^TM” came home, and then leaving her in charge of the dogs I drove round to the Ellingham estate. A few weeks ago I saw a sign as I drove home pointing the way to the “Koi Open Day”. A little looking on-line took me to a new fish shop… A little more looking on-line told me it wasn’t really a fish shop. They are more of a mail-order service that has open days for the public from time to time. Today was one of their open days. I’d been looking forward to it, and as is always the case when you look forward to something it is a disappointment. The place operated from behind secure fencing topped with barbed wire.

There was one frankly huge pond with various fish that were about the size of the ones in my pond and which (to my uneducated eye) were nowhere near as pretty. The prices of these ranged from three hundred pounds upwards.

There were half a dozen paddling pools containing fish smaller than those in my pond (and again nothing special to look at) all billed as “open day specials” and up for sale at prices between fifty and a hundred quid.

I gave it two minutes (certainly no longer) and moved on. I was reminded of my Uncle Terry who used to breed fancy canaries. He had a huge shed in his garden with hundreds of birds in it. He would breed them for shows and the shapes of wings, beaks, bodies, feet etc. had to be exactly just so. However if you just wanted a pet, any bird would do. I suspect this pond shop is much the same. They specialize in the fancy stuff. If you want a pure-bred hara-kiri-nagasaki then that is the place to go. If you want a pretty fish then go to the garden centre to get a prettier fish cheaper.

 

I then drove round to the garden centre. I’ve mentioned a few times recently how the fish tank light has been taking an age to stop flashing and start up. This morning it simply didn’t start up at all. I got a new LED light… thirty quid. Thirty quid !! I was thinking it would be about half of that. It was only when I got home and looked on Amazon I saw that I could have got one for half of that.

And as I was in the area I popped into Sainsburys for a bottle of port. There’s some blue cheese in the fridge that might go nicely with that later,

 

Once home I plumbed in the new fish tank light, and prepared “Hannah” for tomorrow’s adventure. I shall have a shower in a minute, and the quicker “er indoors ^TM” boils up dinner the quicker I can set about that port…

24 October 2025 (Friday) - Early Shift

I hadn’t been asleep long last night when I was woken by Morgan shoving his nose in my face to say hello. Once he was sure I was awake he then settled. I eventually nodded off only to have Bailey licking my hand until I fussed her. She eventually settled, and I then slept through till four o’clock. I lay awake for a while, gave up trying to sleep, got up and watched half an episode of “The Forsyte Saga” in which Irene-ey went on a holiday to Paris and was particularly popular with the barman.

 

I sparked up my lap-top which told me that Facebook has a new policy. I can use it without adverts if I pay three quid a month. I decided to carry on with the free version for now. I sent out birthday wishes, and seeing not a lot had changed overnight I got ready for work.

 

It was dark as I left home. Very dark, and the motorway was surprisingly busy. A combination of being pitch black and so much traffic going far too fast had me effectively stuck in the slow lane all the way to Maidstone.

As I drove there was a lot of talk about yesterday's by-election in Wales in which the Welsh Nationalists won what had been a safe Labour seat for over a hundred years. Reform UK did quite well as well and as is always the case the pundits on the radio were making great show about how this was a vote of no confidence for the Westminster government. And as is always the case everyone ignored that this is what happens in any by-election relatively early in the term of a government. One of the many troubles with democracy is that any government of any party has to make hard decisions, but still have to suck up to a (frankly) thick electorate who will hand power to anyone who tells them what they want to hear rather than what they need to hear. As Oliver Hardy once remarked, "twas ever thus".

And there was talk about Donald Trump who has broken off all trade negotiations with Canada after someone or other in Canada said rude things about the tariffs that Trump loves so much. 

Some expert being interviewed was quite open that everyone needs to realise that Donald Trump is "erratic" and this is the sort of behaviour that the world should expect from him. It was quite clear that expecting “presidential” behaviour from him was a waste of time.

I can't help but wonder if he *really* was the best candidate the Republican party could come up with... or is this just another case of a gullible electorate being too thick to realise that politicians will say that sh*t is sugar in order to get your vote. Democracy, eh?

 

I stopped off at Sainsburys to get lunch. There was a lot of shelf filling going on, and I had to chuckle at the supervisor who was bossing the shelf fillers about in much the same way that I used to chivvy recalcitrant cub scouts. I tried not to laugh out loud.

 

And then it was on to work for the early shift.  Yesterday when I wasn’t working it hosed hard all day. Today was a lovely bright day, and I spent much of the day sulking about it.

At tea break one of my colleagues was having a minor whinge about management. Everyone does that, but with varying degrees of justification. Bearing in mind the thirty-third Rule of Acquisition my current colleagues have absolutely nothing to complain about compared to where I was twenty-five years ago. Hearing today’s whinge I found myself thinking back to the night shifts of the late nineties. As I did the night work so the boss of the time would be in his office (sometimes until after two o’clock in the morning) doing all his paperwork. He never did paperwork when the bulk of the staff were in; he would spend that time continually walking round and round the department (like a security guard) and pounce on anyone he felt wasn’t working to their utmost. No one dared speak or even smile when he was on patrol.

I’m so glad I don’t have that any more.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good dinner this evening which we scoffed whilst watching another episode of “Celebrity Traitors” in which Jethro Palmer (out of Viz magazine) got rather gobby. I would have voted him out just for being that gobby. And I would have voted him out for his silly haircut… does anyone over fifteen years of age *really* have a Mohican?

And in tonight’s episode the hostess (Claudia Winkleman) would seem to have gone a rather strange colour.

And then I had a look at the monthly accounts. I had rather hoped that by this stage of my life I would be a whole lot better off… or am I just being greedy?

 

And despite being at work today I walked three thousand steps more today than I did yesterday…

 

23 October 2025 (Thursday) - Still Raining

I had a better night last night. I’d been expecting the rain to be noisy against the window but it wasn’t, which was a result. I got up shortly before eight o’clock and in a novel break with tradition put the radio on in the living room.

Apparently someone is looking for a private tutor for their child. Currently only one year old, the parents want to end up with a child with a received pronunciation, “reasonable” music theory; an understanding of cricket, tennis, rugby, polo and rowing, good hand-eye coordination, good manners and a place at Eton. They are offering a hundred and eighty thousand quid a year to anyone who will take the child in hand.

I’ve only met one person with a received pronunciation… and that person was widely ridiculed for it.

And there was a lot of consternation about the chap who came to the UK on a small boat, was returned to France under the latest one-in-one-out scheme, and came straight back a couple of weeks later. It was claimed that the French aren’t doing enough to stop the boats… Of course they aren’t. Why would they? The French have got a potential problem in that if they stop all the people trying to get to the UK then what will they do with them? The obvious answer is to let them go on their way and wave them off with a smile.

Ten years ago the EU had a problem with migrants wanting to get to one of their member states. Now the EU’s only problem is the migrants passing through to get to a non-EU state, and the problem is solved by letting them go. Did no one else see this coming? It’s a bit late to pretend to be surprised.

 

The dogs had their brekkie, and seeing that the forecast storm was actually just a bit of drizzle I thought we might try a walk in the woods. After all I had geo-business up there. As we drove I carried on listening to the radio and found myself wondering. Yesterday I had a little rant that Prince Andrew has been crucified in the media recently, and how much the media shapes public opinion. As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how today the King was meeting with Pope Leo I, and how the UK doesn’t have an ambassador to the Vatican any more as the post was discontinued some years ago. This was all announced as we drove down Brookfield Road. As we drove past the motorway (a mile later) there was an apology – the King can’t possibly be meeting with Pope Leo I as he croaked about one thousand five hundred years ago. The King was actually meeting Pope Leo XIV. And as we drove through Kennington (another mile further on) there was another apology; the UK *does* have an ambassador to the Vatican.

Trivial points perhaps, but our opinion is only ever as good as that which we are told so that we can form that opinion.

 

We got to the woods where the drizzle had got rather heavier. I thought we might attempt a walk, but after a couple of hundred yards it was obvious it would have been daft to try to continue. You know it is too wet when (despite not having had an accident) your pants are wet. We went back to the car… and I had some defiance. Morgan never wants to go back to the car unless we’ve walked four miles or more. He was defiant yesterday after only two miles, and he *seriously* wasn’t having it this morning. He looked me in the eye and ran off on the route we usually take. After a couple of hundred yards he stopped, and looked back at me as though to say “come on then”.

He was easily captured though, and we went home.

There was a minor delay as we drove home – the road at the bottom of Challock Hill was flooded – there was a water board lorry there trying to pump the water away.

 

We came home, put on dry clothes, hung out wet coats and leads, put wet clothes into the washing machine, and settled down for a dull day.

I wrote the cache page for the geocache we’d hidden this morning. Many years ago someone else had put a few caches in Kings Wood, and they are slowly falling into disrepair. As the geo-feds archive them so I’m replacing them.

I Munzed, got Wordle (drill) on the fourth attempt, updated my diary with the leave I’ve booked from work, and then spent over half an hour fighting with my bank accounts to work out why I was worse off than I thought I should be. I eventually found I’d written down one payment twice. Woops. Still, I’m now fifty quid better off than I thought I might be.

I wrote up some CPD, and solved some geo-puzzles. Look at this one. I solved it. Go me!!

 

I’ve cracked open a bottle of plonk. We can swill that down with dinner…

There’s so much I could have done if it hadn’t been raining today… I’ve been saying that a lot lately.

22 October 2025 (Wednesday) - Late Shift

I had a bit of a restless night. Is a good night’s sleep so much to ask for? I got up and put some apricot jam on my toast. I can’t say I’m overly keen on that stuff. And as the dogs all slept I had a little look at the Internet.

There was quite a bit about Prince (at the moment) Andrew and how he’s living in a mansion rent-free. The masses are up in arms about this… but the truth of the matter is slightly different. He paid a million quid up-front when he moved in, then spent a further seven and a half million quid doing the place up. There was an interview with the people who look after crown estates on the radio yesterday when they said that when they drew up the arrangement they felt that they had the best side of the deal… but admitted that that was before he turned out to be a sex offender. If he is. Don’t get me wrong… be might well be, but I don’t know for sure. According to British justice an individual is innocent until proven guilty. On the one hand there’s allegations against Prince Andrew, on the other he claims he didn’t do it. Obviously (as Mandy Rice-Davies once said) “Well, he would, wouldn’t he”, but this is today’s justice isn’t it? The rights and the wrongs are secondary to the picture painted by a media keen to increase its circulation to increase its profits. And the masses just go along with what they are told.

After all look at all those postmasters who went to prison for supposedly fiddling the Horizon computer system (which they didn’t). Initially everyone hated them because the papers told them to… until the papers all said they’d done no wrong, then everyone loved them.

 

And then the fish tank light came on. Eventually. It’s on a timer and more and more the thing has a few minutes flickering before doing what it should. I suppose I should bite the bullet and get a new one, but I am nothing if not incredibly mean.

 

“Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” and Pogo arrived. “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” had an errand to run this morning and I’d suggested that Pogo might like to come on our morning walk.

We went down to Orlestone and walked for two miles. We did what used to be our standard walk back in the day when I used to take Pogo, Treacle and Fudge there, and Pogo remembered every twist and turn of the trail. As we walked Bailey was noticeably better than she often is. Admittedly she did wander further than any of the others, but she only once went what I thought was too far, and she immediately came back when I whistled.

Bearing in mind how much rain we’ve had lately and how that place is a swamp for much of the year, I was amazed at how relatively dry the place was. No one needed a bath when we got home.

 

The dogs all settled; I got changed and set off to work. I took a rather circuitous route to hunt out a geocache; I’m easily amused. The one I hunted today took some finding. What with a restless night, dog walk and geo-hunting I was worn out by the time I started work, but I had a good shift.

There was cake.

 

On the flip side there was torrential rain all the way home. The journey home from Pembury is bad enough on a bright summer evening. Let alone in the dark with the roads like rivers.

This rain is supposedly in for a couple of days. I’d been having high hopes for the weekend…

21 October 2025 (Tuesday) - Another Dull Day

Having spent much of the night wide awake and very restless I finally nodded off sometime after four o’clock, and woke at six o’clock feeling like death warmed up.

I made toast, opened the apricot jam, and watched another episode of “The Forsyte Saga” in which Soames’ daughter was quite openly trying to pork Irene’ey’s son, and Winifred’s paramour was doing the dirty deed with all and sundry. I then had a quick look at the Internet. It was much the same as it usually is. Nothing much seemed to have happened overnight, and I had no emails at all.

Taking care not to wake anyone I got ready for work.

 

As I walked out of the house I couldn't remember where I left my car, so in desperation I pressed the key button so see if any car indicator lights flashed. They did - over a hundred and fifty yards down the road by the dentist. I had no idea the key fob thingy had such a range.

I got to the car - it really smells musty. The carpets the dogs sit on need a good airing: I shall see to that when I get a minute.

 

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the ongoing situation in Gaza. As well as the Israelis and Palestinians still attacking each other, both sides were reported to be having something of a civil war in which no end of people on both sides were being accused of being collaborators.

There was yet more talk about Prince Andrew and his involvement with Jeffery Epstein. I can't help but wonder how much longer he will be before he's not a prince anymore. There's also talk about Elon Musk being involved as well, and hints in the media about President Trump. Why don't the judiciary just release all their files on the matter, formally accuse everyone against whom there is allegations and be get it all out in the open? Sadly, so many times in the past they've waited for the accused parties to be safely dead before doing anything. Am I being cynical in feeling that It's probably better that the public get to throw bricks at Prince (for now) Andrew and Stuart Hall which they never could with Cyril Smith and Jimmy Saville.

And Penguin and Club chocolate bars aren't chocolate bars any more.  They are "chocolate flavoured" as they don't have enough choccy.

I had a club bar the other day. Have you seen them recently? they've shrunk.

 

I drove in to Sainsburys in Aylesford where in a novel break with tradition I got a beef and horseradish sandwich, and had a minor altercation with the old bat who glares at the self-service tills. I went up to the only one which took cash. She wasn't happy as you supposedly have to have used a trolly to be able to use that particular machine. I told her I was going to use that machine as I was paying with cash. She told me that I could use another machine and pay by card. I smiled at her sweetly (!) and proceeded to put almost (but not quite) four quid into the machine in copper coins and five, ten and twenty pence pieces. She *really* wasn't happy about that.

 

I got to work and did my bit. As I worked I looked out of the window at the dry day. I'd been off yesterday and it had hossed down most of the day. I was at work today and there was so much I could have done at home. Was it wrong of me to have a perverse pleasure when the heavy rain started in the early afternoon, and then sulk when it stopped half an hour later?

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a rather good bit of scran which we scoffed whilst watching last night’s episode of “Hunted”. I quite like the show if only because “er indoors ^TM” is very entertaining when it is on. She gets so wound up with the stupidity of the contestants. To be honest once you evade the hunters at the very start, winning that show would be so easy. You just take a month’s worth of cash with you. You stay in the countryside. You don’t go anywhere urban where there’s loads of web cams. You don’t use a phone or a credit card or a card for a cash dispensing machine. And (most importantly) you don’t try to provoke the hunters. I’m convinced that the program makers either get the contestants to live dangerously, or only accept stupid contestants.

 

Today was dull… apricot jam was the highlight. And that was dull.

20 October 2025 (Monday) - It Rained (All Day)

I really should have gone to bed early last night. Instead I fell asleep on the sofa and woke with neck ache at midnight. I took myself off to bed, and spent far too long listening to the sound of the rain on the window.

I eventually got up, made toast, and had a look at the Internet as I do. Not much had really changed overnight. It rarely does.

I Munzed, got Wordle (limbo) on the fourth attempt, fed the dogs, put some washing in then got busy with the scrubbing brush. A couple of weeks ago we got loads of chestnuts from the woods. Some have been boiled, some pickled… and everything with which they have come into contact has been stained brown and the dishwasher isn’t touching that staining. A good soak and a good scrub went a long way to sorting it. Another soak and another go through the dishwasher should do the trick.

“Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” and Pogo arrived. She had an errand to run; Pogo came with me and the other dogs for a little walk.

 

As we drove the pundits on the radio were talking about Gaza. For all that the cease fire is still in place, both sides are still killing each other.

We drove down to Park Wood near Appledore this morning. A month or so ago I hid some geocaches in those woods and one of them had reports that someone couldn’t find it.

We got to the woods to see quite a bit of the car park was taken up by a French camper van. Much the same happens in Longbeech Woods near Charing. With no barrier across the car park, camper vans can get a free night before setting off to the cross-channel ferries.

We walked out to where the supposedly missing cache was. It was where it was supposed to be. We then walked a figure-of-eight round the woods back to the car. I let Bailey off the lead where I dared, but bearing in mind her previous episodes, she was on the lead whenever we were within fifty yards of any fence that I couldn’t cross without destroying. To be fair to her she was better behaved than she had been on previous trips to Park Wood. And Pogo was as good as gold.

 

We went out expecting rain; we were lucky. There was a bit, but the tree cover kept it off of us. But it rained hard as we drove home.

Once home we had bellies and paws washed, then I drove “Daddies’ Little Angel ^TM” and Pogo home through some frankly torrential rain. I had planned to mow the lawn when I got back, but that wasn’t going to happen with the weather alternating between bright sunshine and heavy showers every fifteen minutes for the rest of the day. So I sat and struggled with some geo-puzzles in the area where we will (hopefully) be going on holiday next year. I wrote up some CPD, and had a little think...

Yesterday had been rather dull. The highlight of the day had been listening to “Desert Island Discs” and that finished at quarter to seven in the morning. I suppose with pretty much nothing of note having happened yesterday or today that’s why I’ve been thinking of my own “Desert Island Discs” choices ever since. It’s two years since I last thought seriously about them, and I had a little update this afternoon. There’s now two Sparks cover versions in there… On closer inspection my choices are mostly cover versions… there’s only one original in my current eight songs.

I really should revisit my list of favourite books too…

 

And then I had an email. Over the last few months I’ve been emailing the local MP and the local councilor about the flooding at the Asda underpass. The MP has established that the flood defences (or lack of them) are the responsibility of Kent County Council. Kent County Council say they can’t afford to sort the issue; the issue being that the river needs dredging. I tried posting about the problem to one of the local Facebook pages. The solution to getting the underpass to stop flooding is so obvious. If enough people contact the local councilor then they will spend money on sorting the issue. After all, look at how much money they’ve got to squander on the Operation Brock stupidity. But (as ever) people have plenty of time to engage in petty bickering on-line, but not the two minutes it would take to send an email to a councilor.

Oh well… with the current torrential rain the underpass will be flooded by the morning. But why should I care? It’s not as though I need to go through there very often. In fact I only go through there once every six months when I walk to and from getting the car serviced. And at the last service I established that it’s a far shorter walk to avoid the underpass altogether.

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up quiche and chips which we scoffed whilst watching last night’s episode of “Hunted”. Are these contestants stupid? Have they never watched previous episodes of the show? Why go on the show if you have a visceral hatred of sleeping in a tent? Why go on the show if you aren’t prepared to go anywhere other than to the house of a friend?

And then we watched last week’s Bake Off. The more I watch that show the more I’m convinced I shouldn’t have given up professional cooking all those year ago.

 

It’s still raining…

19 October 2025 (Sunday) - Early Shift

I didn’t sleep that well. Having yet again woken far too early I then only dozed, looking at the clock seemingly every ten minutes.

I eventually got up, made toast and watched more of “The Forsyte Saga”. Half an episode… why do the makers of these programs make them an hour and a quarter long?

 

I had a quick look at the Internet in case I’d missed anything. For once I had - Last night was Hastings Bonfire Parade. Back in the day that was one of our regular annual fixtures. We used to go down to Hastings and meet up with family and friends some time in the early afternoon, set up in our favourite Hastings pub (the First In Last Out) and have a go at their beer list. By the time the procession came past the pub, I for one would be away with the fairies. We’d then all stagger off following the procession to the sea front to watch the bonfire and fireworks, losing each other as we walked through the tens of thousands of people swarming about the place. Eventually we’d find each other in time to say goodbye, and then walk over a mile uphill to where we’d left the car (as every other parking space closer had long since been parked in). And having tiddled over a hundred quid up a wall I’d then spend the next day with a headache.

Perhaps it was as well that I’d forgotten that last night was Hastings Bonfire Parade?

 

There was some utter tripe about farming in the Outer Hebrides on the radio as I drove to work, so I switched to a different radio station. I'd had a look at the schedules and saw that Desert Island Discs was on Radio Four Extra this morning. Clare Balding was the castaway. She's been in Celebrity Traitors recently  and was rather interesting. It was a shame that today’s program was a repeat from twelve years ago.  It was also a shame that the program was on DAB, and the reception for that is either excellent or nothing. On the FM radio the program can get a bit fizzy when the signal isn't good. With the DAB in my car there's either perfect reception or utter silence with nothing in between. As I drove so the radio would periodically just go silent.

I wish it wouldn't.

 

I'd left home earlier than I might. When I did the early shift on Friday the journey to Pembury took an hour and a half. This morning it took fifty minutes. I'd left home in the dark, and arrived at work in the dark.

I had a cuppa and then did my bit. As I always say I don’t mind working at the weekends when it is raining, and it was raining today.

 

It was raining as I came home. There was some alleged comedy on Radio Four Extra as I drove. Starring Bernard Cribbins and Frank Thornton it really was so dreadful that I found myself listening in disbelief that something quite so dire would warrant being on national radio. But fortunately for my nerves the reception was as bad as it had been this morning, and after five miles I turned over to Ivor Biggon on my memory stick.

It wasn’t that long ago that we would take the dogs to the woods after an early shift, but it was raining and already getting a bit dark when I got home, so I just announced that I was going to “FEED THE FISH”, and the usual mayhem ensued.

 

I then cracked on solving geo-puzzles. Simple ones that I could manage. As I puzzled “er indoors ^TM” boiled up a chicken dinner which we scoffed whilst watching “Taskmaster”.

I really should have an early night – I’m feeling all-in.