7 December 2010 (Tuesday) - Blackadder

I was up at silly o’clock this morning, watching the Xmas edition of “Porridge” whilst doing my ironing. My ironing and everyone else’s too. And then to work where the day was much the same as ever. Which was probably for the best.

And then home to more ironing. This evening the tribes gathered at Chip’s house where I acquired a fridge, and we watched the Xmas edition of Blackadder. I’d forgotten how good that episode was.

It was quite late before I got round to checking my emails this evening. There was a missive from the astro club – there’s a talk by a British astronaut in a few week’s time in Cranbrook. I may well go along to that. And then I had a quick surf of the Internet.

In previous years I’ve spent a lot of time and effort on the Beer in the Evening website. I’ve rather gone off this website recently. Here’s an example of why. They run an ever-updating top twenty pubs, based on the ever changing recommendations of subscribers to the website. The pub which was number twenty on that list this evening is a relatively local one, and one I’ve never been to. I could get there in less than an hour from my house on public transport. In fact, if any of my loyal readers fancy a trip to Canterbury over the Xmas break, do let me know and we’ll check the place out.

But I digress. This pub is ranked twentieth on a list which is being constantly updated. In the last six months this place has only garnered five reviews; the most recent of those being in August. The pub in twentieth place on the rankings last night has had thirteen reviews in the same time period. And my current favourite London pub has had dozens of reviews in the same time period. Or take this place for example. There’s a review of the place in August when the place was third in the list, having only had two reviews all year.

Talking of beer, I know the stuff has only been in the barrel for a day or so, but I’ve had a crafty sip of my second batch of stout. It’s already drinkable, and it’s rather good, even if I do say so myself. Which now gives me something of a dilemma. Will it last out the three weeks until Xmas? Let’s hope so.

Meanwhile it would seem I’m not the only one with a problematical neighbour. Having been told to get stuffed, “her next door” (and the cat) have got a keyboard and are constantly playing “I wish it could be a wombling merry Christmas every day” at full volume. They are now on their three hundred and forty eighth rendition.

It can only be a matter of time until Frosty’s nerves snap…

6 December 2010 (Monday) - Stuff

This morning I was pleased to find my wheat beer doing it’s thing. Yesterday I prepared the stuff and set it fermenting. But at the beer-making demonstration I went to a few weeks ago I was told that sometimes you can get duff batches of yeast that don’t actually work. So I was pleased to see the stuff bubbling away furiously this morning. Hopefully it will be ready for Xmas.

And then I checked out the on-line news over a bit of brekkie. In the past I’ve griped about the failings of the Dribbling Democraps. One of their number has exceeded the expectations of even their staunchest critics. One of the Dribbling Democrap MPs makes regular visits to Russia (one wonders why!). Whilst there he met up with a Russian bimbo who was about a third of his age, and he’s brought her home to be his parliamentary aide. She might be a spy. She might not. But having sidestepped all the security procedures he’s handed her access to all of Britain’s top-secret defence stuff. “One Westminster source said: ‘She would walk around in very short skirts and high heels with him and they would be seen having lunch together” “ If he wanted a floozie, surely there’s an unemployed British one somewhere he might hire? Surely he wasn’t that dumb to employ a spy?

Talking of dumb, Wikileaks have just released a list of possible terror targets. Whilst (this time) they haven’t given away any defence secrets like they stupidly did last time, surely it can’t be in the public interest to give terrorists a list of places they might like to blow up?

Mind you, not all that I found out on-line was doom and gloom. A week or so ago I mentioned about my old Boys Brigade. The chap who ran it was a bundle of energy. He organised and ran Boys Brigade events and activities most nights of the week; tirelessly and never complaining for years. He was an example to humanity at large. Facebook told me that it’s his birthday today. He’s eighty. Would you believe it? I should really have remembered – at the time I was in the Boys Brigade we had a dog who shared his birthday.

As well as being a birthday today, today was the day when the Human League came to play at Folkestone. I’d been planning to go to that, but the new boiler meant that economies had to be made, and I didn’t buy a ticket. I suppose it’s just coincidence that today I got a refund from the tax man that would easily have covered the cost of the tickets.

In another plane of reality the young chav’s drumming has got out of hand and he’s upset the neighbours. The nice lady next door has come to complain because her cat doesn’t like the noise. Frosty listens politely to her whinging for five minutes before telling her to get stuffed.

One week ago Frosty would never have been so rude, He wonders if the young chav is having an unwholesome influence on him.

5 December 2010 (Sunday) - Dull Sunday

Despite not getting to bed till 3.30am last night, I was wide awake and raring to go by 10am this morning. ‘er indoors ^TM   and  My Boy ^TM  were both fast asleep. So with no one under my feet I took the opportunity to get my latest batch of beer out of the fermentation vessel and into the barrel. The operation went mostly as planned, but it did take a while. I thought it would all be done in twenty minutes. How naïve of me! Clearing some space, sterilising the gear, siphoning five gallons of stout (Mark II) and then clearing up my mess took over an hour. But the stuff is now in the barrel. I’ve had a sip – it’s not too bad. Hopefully it will improve on storage.

With the last of the first batch of stout gone, I also took the opportunity to get the wheat beer going. I’ve re-used the bru-box for this. The instructions say the boxes can be re-used up to half a dozen times. We shall see about that.

Chip emailed – did we fancy going for a walk along the beach? Well, to be honest I did fancy it, but it’s rather cold outside, my foot’s still sore, and by the time I’d finished mucking about with the home-brew, the day was half gone. Maybe we’ll walk when it’s a bit warmer.

I didn’t go out at all today, but sat in. I had planned to get the Xmas decorations up, but we didn’t get that done. Having a vague feeling that I’d wasted the day, I made one or two plans for the future.

Do any of my loyal readers fancy a day out over the Xmas break? I’m hoping to go to Dover Castle on Monday December 27. Ideally we’d get there fairly early, have a look-see, and then go on somewhere for a pub lunch.

And does anyone fancy a pub crawl round Brighton on Saturday 12 March? I’ve been hankering after a crawl round Brighton for some time - we’ve a tame local who will act as our guide. I think a day at the seaside would see me right (!)

Last week the craze on Facebook was to change your profile picture to a cartoon character. I was during that time variously Rufus Roughcut, The Funky Phantom, Booby Bear (Hair Bear Bunch) and Dingdog (Houndcats). Quite a few people joined in; it was all for a laugh. Now the same thing is happening again. But this time I’m not joining in. And at first sight it appears I’m being an old sour-puss-grumpy-face. But am I? This time it’s not for fun – it’s to campaign against violence to children. An admirable concept, but how does changing a Facebook picture help in any way whatsoever. If everyone who was changing their picture donated 10p to the N.S.P.C.C. then maybe something would be achieved. But changing a Facebook picture? – That’s not going to do anything, is it?

And just as I was about to post tonight’s blog my cousin told me the whole thing was a scam perpetrated by kiddy-fiddlers; the idea being that if you have a cartoon as your profile, then kiddies are more likely to accept you as a friend. This sounds more plausible than an anti- kiddy violence campaign… But I can’t really see that one either. Surely a paedo stands more chance of venting its foul urges by lurking round a playground with a bag of sweeties than by trying to get on to the friends list of children who could live a hundred (or more) miles away.

Meanwhile in a playground in a better place… it transpires that the young chav wasn’t badly hurt when he pranged his skateboard yesterday. But to cheer him up, somebody has bought the young chav a drum set.

Frosty the Snowman looks on in horror. People only ever buy drum sets for the children of people they don’t like. Frosty wonders who he’s upset recently, and also wonders how he managed to become the guardian of a young chav.

4 December 2010 (Saturday) - BKF Xmas Bash

I was slightly later getting to bed than I’d planned last night. But next door was having a row. It was quite a good one, as rows go. I couldn’t make out the main thrust of the argument, but there was quite a bit of shrieking at one point. I eventually nodded off, but was left wondering what all the fuss was about. We’ve had a stormy relationship with next door over the years and I can’t help but wonder if any perceived failing on my part has set them off (again).

And so to work. Bearing in mind last night’s sub-zero temperatures I was dreading this morning’s drive to work. But I needn’t have worried. An overnight thaw combined with very heavy rain meant that a lot of the snow had been washed away, and so I got to work easily. Work was dull, and then back home where I took a spade to the remaining ice on the path outside my house. With the surface of the ice cracked, the rain could get into the ice and melt it.  That was my plan, and it seemed to work.

With the arrival of the Rear Admiral and “Daddies Little Angel ^TM ” we set off to Great Chart for a spot of lunch. There are two pubs in Great Chart. One has a dozen assorted thugs and thuggettes in the garden who shout abuse at passers by. One does not. It doesn’t take a genius to work out which pub I went into. A plate of ham, egg and chips went down well with two pints, and then home again. Via Lidls for some beer for the evening and some silly prizes for the evening.

The idea was that we’d put up the house’s Xmas decorations this afternoon, but as it turned out we had less than an hour between getting home and needing to set off again. So I wrapped the pressies for the silly pressie game, changed my T-shirt and then the Bat arrived. We piled into the Batmobile and set off for Horley. Google maps told me the journey would take two hours. We were approaching Clackett Lane services with plenty of time, so we stopped for coffee. Only to find out that the party started at 6pm, not 7pm. Pausing only to throw molten chocolate all over the Rear Admiral, we piled through the slush back into the Bat-Mobile and arrived in some housing estate twenty minutes later. The Sat-Nav announced we were at our destination. We weren’t convinced, but we soon found the scout hut where we were supposed to be.

We met up with quite a few old friends and had a good laugh and chat. It was good to meet up with so many friends I see so infrequently. It was a shame the event wasn’t better attended: a lot of the kite fliers weren’t there. I suppose the bad weather had put people off. To be honest we only went as a last minute decision. Yesterday we’d decided that the weather was too bad.

We sat down to a super bit of dinner, then played pass the parcel together with forfeits. I got a forfeit…  Then we had the pressie game in which… it’s too complicated to explain. The basic premise is that you take along a load of old tat which you want rid of. You gift wrap the tat and put it into the game, and then play the game on the understanding that whilst you may get rid of your tat, you’ll probably get back someone else’s tat. I got back quite a bit of tat.

Then we did the raffle. I did reasonably well, getting a kite, some wine and a rather nice (!) butter dish. ‘er indoors ^TM  had a decent haul of prizes, and Rear Admiral and “Daddies Little Angel ^TM ” both had acquired far too much tat too. Then a shock – it was announced that the Bat had won the Drawing a snowman contest. I thought my snow-misery should have won, and the Rear Admiral thought his snowman should have got a mention, if only for the fact it was smoking a fag.

And then, all too soon the evening was over. Goodbyes were said, tat loaded into cars, and then home we all went. Yesterday I’d been very dubious about getting to the BKF Xmas bash (because of the bad weather). I was wrong – getting there turned out to be very easy. We were on the way home when I was just about to remark to that effect when all the power to the Bat-Mobile went. We then spent a nerve-wracking five minutes on the junction of the M3 and M25 before the engine struggled back to life.

But it didn’t stay alive for long, finally giving up the ghost about a mile or so along the M26. It was at this point that I suggested we used the Rear Admiral’s emergency tent. He’d won an “emergency tent” in the raffle. Bearing in mind we were stranded on the hard shoulder of a motorway, after midnight, with snow on the ground I thought I was justified in thinking I was having an emergency. The Rear Admiral begged to differ. Personally I don’t think his tent would have been up to the challenge, but what do I know?

The Highways Authority people arrived on the scene to ask if we were all right, and they gave “Daddies Little Angel ^TM ” a rather large piece of tin foil to wrap around herself until the recovery van arrived. I must admit that I was amazed by the responses of the various people we phoned for help. My immediate phone call was to friends who lived locally, who immediately put themselves onto standby in case they could help. The Rear Admiral phoned his bank (HSBC) who sorted out the recovery vehicle. The recovery chap was brilliant, arriving in less than twenty minutes after having been called. The people from the Highways Authority were really helpful. The AA were worse than useless, but they probably could have been more unhelpful if they’d tried.

We were back at the Bat-Farm before too much longer, and home before 2am. If nothing else, this will be something to laugh about in years to come.

Meanwhile the chav has pranged his skateboard into a strange looking object. If anyone has any idea what the strange looking object is, please don’t hesitate to let us know.

3 December 2010 (Friday) - Cold

Today’s news makes interesting reading. As always, the trivial is the headline news. I see that England’s bid to host the World Cup (for football – there *are* other World Cups!) has failed. Good!

It’s not that I dislike football so much as I dislike the small-minded thuggery that football seems to encourage, despite the best efforts of the Football Association. There are those who feel that hosting the World (football) Cup would be a good thing for the country. I’ve met several people who feel this way. When I ask them why, I am told that I am being unpatriotic for not supporting the bid. However they are all unable to elaborate on this. It worries me that here in the UK, patriotism has become confused with being a football fan.

Apparently being a patriot isn’t about being British, or supporting the Monarchy, or buying British products. It’s about screaming “Eng-Ur-Lund” very loudly whilst waving a white flag with a red cross every time the word “football” is mentioned. You don’t need to know anything about this flag (and a lot of so-called “patriots” don’t), or even anything about the rules or history of football. You just have to wave the flag and shout whenever football is played.

And it helps if you terrorise anyone who looks less than 100% Caucasian every time the England football team lose. I point this out this because friends of mine whose skin is only slightly darker than mine tell me they dread walking the streets every time there is an England football match.

Interestingly the news of importance, the fact that a radical new form of biochemistry has been found that could have profound implications for the future of humanity, has been relegated to a footnote. Which is a shame, but probably a sign of our times.

Being on a late shift I had a lie in this morning, and when I finally hauled my carcass out of bed at 9am there was glorious sunshine. No snow had fallen overnight, but there was still snow everywhere. But bearing in mind the weather forecast says it didn’t get over minus three degrees today, the sunshine hasn’t melted the snow at all. The snow has just compacted into ice.

To work. Having out-patient services across Kent closed, and hardly anyone visiting their G.P. made for a very quiet day. Which was odd because the roads were far more passable than they were yesterday. I can only imagine that with today being a Friday, everyone had decided to start the weekend early. Mind you, for all that the roads were more passable, I’m sure today was a colder day.

When I left work this evening at 8pm the outside temperature was minus twelve degrees. This is the coldest that the thermometer in my car has ever registered. Tomorrow’s planned trip to Redhill is looking very unlikely now.

Meanwhile Frosty the Snowman looks on in amazement at the tricks the young chav is performing in the skateboard park. The young chav isn’t particularly talented, and Frosty suspects it will all end in tears. The tears being those of the young chav (with any luck)

2 December 2010 (Thursday) - Still Snowing

I had a very restless evening and night last night. I came home from work yesterday to realise I’d left my wallet in my locker at work.  Now my locker is secure, in a part of the hospital where the normal people never venture, and it’s a locked locker behind several locked doors. And I wasn’t going to go back through the snow to fetch it. But I still felt lost without my wallet. Even though I didn’t need the thing.

Again, not being on a late shift I was up at the crack of dawn. I had this plan to watch Star Trek whilst sorting the underwear. (What a riveting life I lead!). But Star Trek wasn’t on. They’ve replaced it with some police reality drama show rubbish.

Sometimes I get cross with some of the more minor TV channels. So often they will start showing a series of something or other, and without warning they just stop the show half way through. Fortunately for me I have all of Star Trek: Enterprise on DVD, but I couldn’t be bothered to go get the DVD. In the end I realised that not showing Star Trek was a blessing in disguise, as I got to see the “Pinky and the Brain” Xmas special. (Narf!)

I left very early for work this morning – we’d had more snow overnight, and I wanted to get to the hospital before the roads got busy. Driving in the snow was rather dodgy at times, but seeing how my foot is still a tad tender, I’d rather not walk. Work was dull – very dull. The snow obviously put people off of being ill. And then at lunch time we went sledging again – I got some photos this time.

And then back to work. Management had got wind that we’d been sledging, and wanted photos of the event to put into the staff magazine. I had photos on my mobile, but without my own PC at home I wasn’t able to extract the photos. Mind you, I’m not entirely sure I want photos of me playing silly beggars all over the works magazine. Not that I’m in any way embarrassed – regular readers would know that I couldn’t care less about that. It’s just that people whinge enough already about how long blood tests take. I don’t want to be giving ammunition to my critics.

Work continued being dull, and so I came home an hour early to find a challenge from a friend in America. In twenty minutes I had to come up with my top twenty sci-fi books. That took some thinking about, but I managed to make a list. You can see it here. Please feel free to take up the challenge yourself – and do let me know your list.

Meanwhile in another plane of reality, Frosty the Snowman has startled a passing young chav. The chav’s mummy had warned him about snowmen like Frosty…

1 December 2010 (Wednesday) - More Snow

Last week over on Facebook it was “change your profile picture to a cartoon” week. One of the nice ladies on my list had Dogtanian as her picture. She commented that Dave Cow should do a Dogtanian cover version. Last night Dave asked me if I fancied accompanying him on backing vocals, and so we launched another stunning video onto an unsuspecting public. The public loved it.

I was up with the lark this morning and ironed shirts whilst watching Star Trek. I wanted to be up promptly so’s I could drive to work through the ice before the bulk of the traffic snarled the roads up. Whilst we’ve had no more snow overnight, it was still icy.

I spent much of the day listening to local radio announcers telling everyone to go home because the weather was so terrible and the roads were impassable. Which was an odd thing to say. I was calling up the travel web-cams on the BBC’s website and I could see that most of the county’s roads were clear. I suspect the local radio announcers have a lot to answer for.

Even though not much more snow fell today, there was still a lot of snow on the fields and hills. So a bunch of us took to the sledges at lunch time. We only managed twenty minutes though; oh, it was cold. Especially as one of our number got a pants-full of snow. I’m told there will be photos of the event at a later date. For once I was too busy “doing” rather than photographing.

And then, seeing as it’s December I opened my Lego Advent calendar. Today I got Frosty the Snowman. Frosty seems to be brandishing a strange object. I wonder what it is….