The Internet was dull as I peered into it this
morning. It usually is. However I am currently finding myself bombarded with
adverts for Ashford Kyokushinkai Karate on Facebook. I wonder if they are in
any way connected with the Kyokushinkai Karate classes that I used to go to at
the North School about thirty years ago. I quite liked them, but I was never
very good at it. Together with a load of work colleagues I joined when they had
a major recruitment drive, but I always had the vague feeling that the
organiser just wanted a load of enthusiastic newbies for the more established
members to win against when sparring. My most vivid memory of the club was
being taught to defend myself against a kick in the nakkers. The bloke with the
black belt was going to do the kick, and the bloke with the brown belt would
demonstrate the defence… or that was the plan. The black belt bloke was talking
and talking and talking, and the brown belt bloke was picking his nose and
staring into space. I thought he was just acting cool. He wasn’t. He wasn’t
paying attention, so when the black belt bloke actually got round to doing the
kick, it landed square in the plums. I will always remember wondering that if
you could get a brown belt and still get kicked in the pods then was it all
worth it?
I didn’t go back.
Despite the drizzle I got the dogs into their coats
and onto their leads and we went up to the woods. Despite the temperature
having been above freezing for some time, there was a *lot* of ice at
the woods. But not many people though.
As we walked I found myself watching Morgan. He runs
like Sid used to in that his rear end would seem to be faster than his front
end, and so he as he runs he goes diagonally as his back end starts to overtake
his front. There’s a video
of his running here.
As we came to the end of the walk we could hear a *lot*
of shouting going on. Mabel had either gone missing or was in trouble.
Presumably Mabel is a dog? Mind you it was at this point that I saw that
Treacle was carrying a dead squirrel. I hope that wasn’t Mabel.
We got back to the car and again found my watch and my
phone being half a mile apart on how far they thought we’d walked.
We came home. As we drove there was some utter tosh on
the radio about some Mexican film-maker. I turned it off and sang along to Ivor
Biggun sings instead.
I washed muddy paws and put frankly filthy dog coats
into the washing machine, then made us both a cuppa before Munzing and Wordling.
Did you know that Wordle accepts “shart” as a valid word? One lives and
learns.
I wrote up some CPD,
and with the rain getting heavier I settled on the sofa and watched episodes of
“Four In A Bed” in which the proprietor of a rather grim Blackpool guest
house took on three rather nice establishments. She had the thumbs-down from
all the other competitors, got rather petty and nasty with everyone else, but
still finished in second place.
“er indoors TM” boiled up another
good bit of scoff. We watched the second episode of “Junior Bake Off”
which was rather entertaining; if only to watch the children being utterly
bemused by Harry Hill. And then the latest episode of “The Traitors”
which ended on a bit of a cliffhanger as two of the main protagonists looked
set to punch each other’s lights out.
Having been rostered off for over a week, I’ve got to
go back to work tomorrow…
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