I went to bed far too late last night. Having set up another blog elsewhere, I’ve been playing with the settings. This blog is set up pretty much how I want to it be. But the other blog isn’t a blog as such, it’s (going to be) more of a searchable archive. With that in mind, things like being able to search the blog for text and for specific post labels are going to be the priority. And I’ve gained a whole new respect for the Blogger software. I already follow several Blogger blogs (see the list), all of which are very different in appearance, and now I’ve created another. So far, so good… But having got that blog just right, I then spent too long fiddling about on another work-related project. It’s amazing what silly little bits of htm can stuff up alignment of a web page, and even more amazing how long it can take to put such problems right. And despite the late night I was (again) up and ironing before 7am.
To work. I’m not usually that keen on working Saturday mornings, but since management made the announcement that we don’t have to take time off in lieu of time worked on Saturdays but we can be paid (at time and a half!) I’ve been somewhat keener to work Saturday mornings. Normally I take in doughnuts oat the weekend, but I did that yesterday.
I did my bit, and came home. After a quick sandwich and an episode or two of SpongeBob we set off and met the Folkestone contingent in Chris’s garden. I say “garden” – I can clearly remember a day in May 2002 when a gaggle of us gave that garden what can only be described as a tidying it would never forget. Or so we thought. Despite the fact that the shock of our combat gardening actually killed several trees, the garden itself survived, and over the intervening eight years did learn to forget. So today we went back to tidy that jungle. I got out my electric hedge shears and didn’t take any nonsense from the undergrowth. ‘er indoors TM and “Daddies Little Angel TM ” collected blackberries, and the “Rear Admiral” chucked the carnage over a fence in a manner very reminiscent of how he did exactly the same some eight years ago. Pausing only briefly to rip a tree out of the ground (with my bare hands!), we made good progress, and in two hours we made the difference that you can see in today’s blog photo. The garden fence is somewhat dishevelled in places, but that will be a job for another day.
And then home. Just as I was about to walk in the door the phone rang. It was work with a minor catastrophe. Was I free to help out as things had gotten a tad busy in the three hours since I’d come home. So ten minutes later I was back in harness. I thought there might be an hour’s work. I stayed for three hours; the place was that busy this afternoon. I eventually left sometime after seven o’clock. I don’t mind helping out – I’d rather someone phoned to say they needed help rather than finding out some time later that they’d been struggling. And more overtime is always good. Boilers don’t pay for themselves, you know.
I came home via a pub to check all is in order for next week’s festivities (which it is) and then having scoffed a rather decent bit of tea, I fell asleep whilst watching SpongeBob.
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