This morning's emails
brought one from the island of St Helena. Yesterday I was quite fired
up about the idea of going to the south seas for a year. I had this
naive idea of swapping my white laboratory coat for a Hawaiian shirt.
This morning I found that what was actually being offered was not
that which had been advertised.
They don't want someone
to do the work I do now; they want a manager. And it wasn't for a
year's contract; it was to be an ongoing open-ended arrangement which
could be ended whenever they felt like it.
I've been a manager
before. I was one for ten years and didn't like it very much. And I'm
not keen on an open-ended arrangement either. I have bills to pay and
need some measure of security.
Oh well; it was a nice
dream while it lasted.
I put the lead onto
"Furry Face TM" and we went for a
walk. Bearing in mind that the park is filled with (bloody!)
joggers on Saturday mornings we went round to Frog's Island. Leaving
aside an impromptu game of "rabbit skittles" in the
pet shop the walk was uneventful.
We set off to the Medway
towns; the idea was to go to the Tiger
Moth for lunch. Admittedly we were there a little early. Had they
said "Sorry; we're not open yet" then maybe I might
have waited. However they didn't. They didn't actually say "f@!k
off we're shut" but that was certainly their implication. So
we went down the road to the
George. The food there was good, but the beer had gone off and
the locals were rather scary. I actually left half a pint.
Gordon Tracy arrived, and
we spent the afternoon going here and there round the Medway towns
doing odd geocaches. Some were rather good; incredibly tricky. We
managed two with the maximum difficulty setting. On the negative side
we found one which seemed to have been drop-kicked into a thicket,
and I found (yet) another playground-themed cache.
I had no idea there were
so many hills in the Medway area; for no reason I seemed to wilt
rather quickly today. I slept for most of the journey home.
With "er indoors
TM" off to Folkestone for film night I had
film night of my own. During the week I'd recorded a biographical
film about Margaret Thatcher's early days. I suspect it was based far
more on what would make a good film than on historical fact, but it
made for entertaining viewing.
I also made a start on
the laundry basket. I had that thing emptied only the other day. How
come it's overflowing again?
Saturay beer goes to ones head!
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