7 April 2018 (Saturday) - Litter Picking

When the dogs finally stopped barking at shadows (at two o’clock last night) I finally got some sleep. I did hear nice-next-door doing noisy sex in the small hours, but I dozed through till seven o’clock when I got up.

Over brekkie I had a look at Facebook. Some ex-colleagues had been for a beer last night. I did chuckle; knowing them and their various interactions I had to wonder if they all really were that lonely that they would socialize with people they didn’t actually like rather than be at home on their own.
Then my piss boiled (as it so often does). Someone had posted one of those racist memes: you know the sort “Anyone who’s not from the UK eats babies” or some such drivel. Despite the thing being patently a bunch of lies, people were queuing up to comment about how terrible all these foreigners are and to believe the worst.
And (of course) the various on-line squabbles persisted. It must be a month or so since I was last embroiled in one, for which I am rather grateful. However it never fails to amaze me how those causing the petty bickering on the various forums are those whose hobby is “posting on Facebook”. None of the arguments on social media about astronomy, snake-keeping, dogs, hiking, fishing, geocaching, ale-drinking etc are ever stirred up by anyone who is actually active in that pastime.
I particularly like geocaching in that regard; it is the work of two seconds to see exactly how much of the hobby a given person has done throughout their entire geo-career. Why is it that those who pontificate and deliver their sage opinions and rudely dismiss all others haven’t actually gone out and done anything in the hobby for a year?

As I scoffed my toast (and as my blood pressure went through the roof) the washing machine ground away at some laundry I’d fed to it. That machine is getting noisier and noisier. I have a service contract in which I pay a tenner or so each month and no matter what goes wrong with it, the nice people come and fix it. I’m wondering if this is such a good idea. Maybe it is time to chuck it away and get one which isn’t screaming quite so much.

We got ourselves and the dogs together and got into the car. We had plans for today, but bearing in mind the torrential rain as we left Ashford, there’s no denying we fully expected to get to Tenyham, meet our friends, have everyone look at the rain, have everyone say “stuff that”, and come back home again.
But we were wrong.

As we left Ashford the rain stopped, We got to Tenyham to find a dry day. We met our friends and joined in with the community litter-pick and tidy-up that was happening today, It sounds weird, but I for one had a great time walking round picking up litter and generally tidying. You wouldn’t believe how many beer cans and sweetie wrappers were cluttering the place up. I was shocked to find a bra and a pair of pants cast away with reckless abandon. And (perhaps I’m naïve?) I was amazed at how many syringes I pulled out of the undergrowth by the railway.
With litter picked we dropped off our bags of rubbish at the designated spot. I’d thought I would be clever by bringing along my own litter-picking device; it was a shame this thing broke half-way round and ended up in the rubbish. We then went back to the village hall where refreshments were offered. I had a cuppa, a hot-dog and a slice of cake, Very nice!

We then relocated to the village of Painter’s Forstall where five of us took the dogs on a little geo-wander. There are a couple of geo-series starting there. We followed one of them and had a rather good walk. As we went we saw horses and buzzards and the fattest sheep you ever did see. We played on a skateboard that we found, we were amazed to find several tons of litter that had been fly-tipped, we found our way blocked by an emergency ambulance, and Fudge ran off chasing whatever it is that Patagonian Tripe-Hounds chase (twice).

With our walk done we were looking forward to a crafty pint. We went to the pub near where we’d parked…
Oh dear…
If any of my loyal readers are in the vicinity of “The Alma” in Painter’s Forstall, would you please (as a personal favour to me) take your custom elsewhere. I can quite understand that a pub may well be shut for a prior booking. That's fine with me. However I would suggest that such a pub should not have the "open" sign up, then wait for potential customers to walk through the door before turning the sign to "closed" then sarcastically pointing it out as though your potential customer is some sort of retard.
I contented myself by slating the place on TripAdvisor, and we all drove down to the Chequers in Doddington.
"er indoors TM" and I had been here last Friday for the Good Friday geo-meet. We’d been impressed, and today we went back. Karl, Tracey and Charlotte had missed out last week; today they were just as good as they’d been a week ago. Really friendly and welcoming staff and a rather good ale on too. Four pints of that and a very good selection of crisps made for a rather good bit of dinner.

We got home just as the rain started again. I took a few photos today, as I so often do. Once home I popped them on-line, and as the dogs snored I sparked up the telly. “Lee and Dean” and “Thunderbirds Are Go” was entertaining…

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