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21 August 2022 (Sunday) - Not Working (?)

As I shaved I heard “er indoors TM telling Morgan off about some crime or other. Even though Treacle is far and away the naughtiest dog, it is always little Morgan being told off for one thing or another.

I made toast (with set honey!) and had a look at the Internet. There had been a geo-meet yesterday in honour of International Geocaching Day yesterday  I couldn’t get along (what with work) but it looks like it had been well attended. And there was a new geocache this morning too. A shame it was so close to work; having driven there for the last six days I wasn’t going to make the journey again today, but hopefully things are back on the up for hunting Tupperware?

I sent out some birthday wishes and found myself thinking as I did so. A friend from way back was having a birthday today. During the late seventies we were the best of buddies through our membership of the Boys Brigade. But over the years we went our separate ways. I’ve only seen the chap in person twice since 1983; the first time at the retirement of the chap who ran the Boys Brigade, and the last time at the funeral of the chap who ran the Boys Brigade. Stalking my old mucker on the Internet it seems he’s the managing director of some big firm in the city and has an annual income of about half a million quid.

If I had an annual income of about half a million quid I’d only want to see the likes of me once every twenty years as well…

 

“er indoors TM got the Asda shopping, then set off to Folkestone. Today was the Folkestone air show and the tribe was going to see it. If you like planes (which seemingly everyone else does) it is a really good day out. I’ve seen it before and can remember it as being hours of tedium. You stand plaintively staring into the sky, and about every half-hour or so some plane or other comes over which (to my uneducated eye) all look the same.

 

I got on with what I had planned. On 4 April 2008 I got a new shed. According to shedman.co.uk a decent wooden shed (if maintained) should be good for thirty years…

Over the years I’ve replaced the roof felt twice, but rather more serious maintenance was needed today. Some (six) of the planks on the side had warped leaving great big gaps through which rain could pass. I tried bodging the holes last year with decorative filler, but that didn’t work. So I got new planks yesterday and the plan was to pull off the warped planks, cut the new ones to size and put them in place. Easy… Or so you’d think. To be honest (apart from putting the drill through my thumb) everything went rather well. There was a minor hiccup when I found that I needed to replace two more panels than I had first thought, but I did that with the off-cuts

I took a few photos as I worked…

I must admit I’m rather pleased with the result bearing in mind that the only woodworking skills I’ve got (such as they are) are entirely self-taught. As I worked I found myself reflecting on the words of an old schoolmate (Simon Hargraves) who once asked our French teacher why we wasted our time at school learning Latin and religious education and ancient history. He asked why we didn’t learn useful things such as woodwork like the boys at the secondary modern school did. Our old French teacher replied with something I’ve remembered all my life, and sums up where I’ve gone wrong all these years. He said that we were grammar school boys. He said that in years to come we would be paying the ex- secondary modern school boys to do the manual labour for us, and that as ex- grammar school boys, manual labour would be beneath us.

I suppose it is for my mate having his birthday today (him on half a million a year)…

 

By the time the shed was fixed it was mid-day, and I had a stroke of genius (I have them from time to time). It occurred to me that all the normal people who infest the woods would be having their lunch, and we might get a walk without being plagued by them.

The idea nearly worked.

We got three quarters of the way round the woods when we turned a corner to see someone who had seen us first and was putting his dog on a lead. Rather then putting my three on their leads I blew the whistle. Having had perfect whistle training in practices up to that point, the puppies were a tad slow coming back. Treacle came instantly, and as the normal person walked past he made some sarcastic comment about a success rate of one out of three. He then saw my dogs were getting treats and, presumably wanting one for his dog, made some conciliatory comment about how bad his dog behaves off the lead and that the puppies weren’t that bad really. I told him that they were babies (which they are) and were still learning (which they are), and I walked off up the path with all three perfectly at heel.

It was only a shame that when I put the treats away the babies chased off down the path to bother the normal person’s dog again.

 

We came home and I had lunch. Haagen Dazs lime mojito sorbet washed down with a can of Tizer. Not everyone’s first choice of lunch, but it did for me.

As I’d fiddled with shed panels this morning I’d also been doing the laundry and getting it onto the line. With walk walked and lunch scoffed the laundry was all dry. As I got it in so there was a noise. The Red Arrows flew overhead. Directly over the garden; they couldn’t have been more than fifty yards up.

And as the dogs snored I spent a couple of hours doing the ironing whilst watching the last episodes of “The Sandman”.

“er indoors TMcame home and boiled up a rather good bit of dinner, only marred by the pain in my thumb… I had one day off this week and I didn’t stop.

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