22 August 2009 (Saturday) - Brook

I woke with backache and was bursting for a wazz, which is usually a sign I’ve slept too long. That’s to be encouraged. After a quick pump of the bike tyres, four of us set off to Brook. On March 7^th a group of us went for a country walk and had scoff at the Honest Miller in Brook. Now we are at such a peak of physical fitness (!) that we cycled to the place. (Or some of us did). The landlord remembered us from our visit of five months previously. We were the lot who had the little baby with us (Emily) and were taking photos of our dinner to post into the prison. Were we *that* memorable?

Oh, the food there is good. Pork chops marinated in cider followed by Tennessee toffee pudding with cream. I took some photos of today’s dinner which I shall post in to the chokey with tomorrow’s letter.

The original plan (there *was* a plan!) had us cycling back home the way we came out. But that would have involved a rather serious “up”, so using random guesswork we figured a route home via Wye. Much less “up”, even if it was five miles longer, making a sixteen mile round trip. Whilst coming through Wye we discovered the New Flying Horse, a half-way decent pub at the top of Wye. The food’s not cheap, but the garden is pretty. And following some rather grim experiences in the Tickled Trout, we needed to find a decent pub in Wye. So we sat in the garden and had a crafty pint of Whitstable Bay, and laughed at the pretentious twit in the panama hat who was trying to look oh-so-distinguished after having had two bottles of wine. Or that is, I did. Others of our number were leering at the biker-chicks. Me – I couldn’t work out which ones were the biker chicks and which ones were the bikers. One of them seemed rather well endowed in the chest area, but on reflection so am I, so that as a criterion was hardly conclusive.

And then home along National Cycle Route 18. Over the last few months we’ve explored a lot of the area around Ashford on our bikes, and National Cycle Route 18 from Ashford to Wye is a brill road for cycling. Very scenic, not too much “up”, and it brought us home via Chris’s house. So we popped in to say hello. Shame he wasn’t up yet. Maybe next time…

21 August 2009 (Friday) - Stuff

Regular readers of my drivel might have noticed that I have a “Forthcoming Events” section on the blog. This is in many ways for my own reference as much as for my loyal readership. It’s so easy to agree to something and then forget about it. Having the dates put up make things so much easier. Easier to remember what is happening, and easier to arrange other events for when nothing is going on.

So having realised that nothing is planned for three weekends hence, I arranged a visit to the chokey. Today Medway council announced that they are going to hold a kite festival at Capstone in three weeks time. Three weeks! – How much notice is that?

My portable cludgee that I won off of eBay arrived today, so I thought I’d put the thing together. I’m hoping that today was co-incidence, but I unwrapped the thing in glorious sunshine, and in the five minutes it took to put it up, the weather turned to monsoon. I’ve not seen it rain so hard for ages. The tent is currently sitting in the shed, waiting to be hung out to dry. I’ll do that tomorrow – weather permitting.

Today was pay day. I was rather dreading getting the pay slip. Taking a voluntary grade reduction has done wonders for my insomnia (first fruit of my loin excepted), but how about the money? Well, effectively it’s been a 14% pay cut. It could have been a lot worse. I’ll just waste less money on beer and toilet tents, and be grateful I’m not up all night worrying about problems that I didn’t create and can’t solve.

20 August 2009 (Thursday) - More Inane Drivel....

After I went to kip last night someone had meddled with my PC. I can always tell when it’s been meddled with - the screen resolution had gone to pot. It didn’t take too long to fix (about two seconds), but I just wish that people (“Daddies Little Angel ^TM ”) would leave it as they find it.

The morning’s post brought the latest missive from the chokey, and a visiting order for my tribe to go up to see him. Since I was on a late I had some time this morning, so I wasted two hours trying to get through. This afternoon I tried at tea break time and they answered on the first ring. They really don’t make visiting easy!

I came home to find I have had umpteen phone calls from various relatives. Cousin Eric has died. My brother is somewhat distraught. I’m feeling a tad guilty that I am not. I’ve not actually seen the bloke since his mother’s golden wedding party in the late seventies, and I’m afraid I can’t shed a tear over a relative that distant.

Meanwhile, somewhat appropriately for today, a survey investigating another blogging site has found that forty percent of the stuff posted there is nothing more than “pointless babble”. Nearly ten percent was dribble repeated from other people’s postings, five per cent was self-aggrandizement, and five per cent was spam. I’m sure that my loyal readership are now feeling themselves very lucky to be reading a blog such as this……

19 August 2009 (Wednesday) - A Paddle in the Briney

Last night I had a word with “My Boy ^TM ” about his noise in the mornings. He promised faithfully that when he got up this morning he would be “as quiet as a mouse”….

…In the Warner Brothers cartoon “Hare-Way to the Stars” (released on March 29, 1958) Marvin the Martian’s Illudium PU-36 Explosive Space Modulator fails to blow up the Earth. Marvin is disappointed, because he was expecting an Earth-shattering “KABOOM!” He should have given up with his Illudium PU-36 Explosive Space Modulator. He should have tried being “as quiet as a mouse” up Beaver Road this morning at 5.45am. He wouldn’t have been disappointed with the “KABOOM!” that was generated as the front door was closed.

What I find particularly frustrating is that when it’s not silly o’clock in the morning, “My Boy ^TM ” actually can creep around the house. He really does move in true ninja fashion. I’ve long known that I will meet my maker having popped my clogs from the shock of him creeping up on me. He *can* be quiet if he tries. He just can’t do it at 5.45am.

Seeing as the temperature had soared today, ‘er indoors ^TM suggested we went to the beach for a walk. So we went to Dymchurch beach for a paddle. The tide was out, and we waded through several hundred yards of mud to the sea. The sea was a tad cold, but fun – I’ve not gone for a paddle for a few years. We thought we’d have some chips, but the queues at the chippies in Dymchurch were a tad long, so we drove down to Littlestone and had chips on the beach there.

Much as I like a stroll along the beach, or sitting on the beach with chips, I can’t see the attraction of spending all day there. The place was heaving with “The Great Unwashed” who had spent all day (and probably all week) there. Leaving aside the discarded cigarette ends, picnic wreckage, barbecues and inflatable dinosaurs they had left behind, “The Great Unwashed” were also at the beach themselves, spoiling it for decent people (i.e. me).

One gaggle of pikeys were loudly bemoaning the fact they had no money to spend on drink to drink. Presumably they had money to spend on drink for other purposes. One of the “normal people” was having a go with a metal detector, but every time he found something, he had to fight a swarm of opportunistic pikey children out from under his feet to investigate his find. And in the chip shop another bunch weren’t happy that they didn’t get a number to let them know when their order was called. Instead the friers would call out what food was ready. This wasn’t fair because why should this bunch remember what they’d ordered?

As we drove out of Littlestone it struck me that for all I’ve fancied retiring to a house on the seaside, the thought of sharing the seaside with the pikeys it attracts would do my head in...

18 August 2009 (Tuesday) - Found Whilst Tidying Up

I woke early this morning fully anticipating the earth-shattering noise of “My Boy ^TM ” quietly going to work. I wasn’t disappointed. Who needs alarm clocks? And since I’d been woken I got on with everyone else’s ironing. They all come downstairs and find their laundry washed and ironed and in their own piles. I swear they must think magical pixies do it overnight.

I thought I’d tidy out my locker at work today. It’s not very big, and it’s got so cluttered that I can’t get my sarnies in there any more, so a rake-out was a must. I was amazed what I found. A newspaper from eleven years ago featuring a nudey Anthea Turner. An Empire magazine from fourteen years ago featuring (thankfully) clothed Klingons. And a whole load of paperbacks I’d given up for lost.

Gripped by the tidying bug I came home and threw two dustbin bags of rubbish out of the kitchen. If anything precious has gone with the rubbish, then (frankly), that’s a shame. I’m fed up with living in the middle of a mess. I’m getting ready for a major hoik-out in a couple of weeks time. Once the top box is off of the car and I can drive into the tip again I’m going to seriously clear some space about the house.

There’s all sorts of rubbish in the house that is going to get thrown away. Ten year old motherboards and sound cards. Miles of telephone extension cables. The old Sky-Box. Two knacked camping beds. The old round wooden table. Mouse-eaten tents. Mouse-eaten gazebos. Spare parts for mouse eaten gazebos. Spare parts for heaven only knows what. All will go in the bin. So be warned, dear reader. If you think I’m looking after your stuff for you, please be sure that I am aware that I am doing so. Because in two weeks time, it’s going to the tip.

In other news I’ve managed to obtain a portable cludgee for camping to replace the one that died at the Brighton Kite Festival. I say “obtain” - “won on eBay” is perhaps a better description. I’m hoping it will be more hard wearing than the last one was…

17 August 2009 (Monday) - Earthquakes, Time and Money Wasting

I woke this morning and I could clearly visualise today’s blog entry. An earthquake in Ashford. And then I realised it wasn’t an earthquake. “My Boy ^TM ”s holiday is over, and he was going to work on an early shift. After such a rude awakening I couldn’t get off to sleep again, and so I ironed my work shirts. I’m seriously considering wearing polo shirts to work – they don’t need ironing.

Off to work where one of the trainees asked me if I’d done the day’s “prolonged weighting”. I said that I hadn’t, and whilst I tried not to giggle he then assigned the task to the new boy. The new boy’s prolonged wait went on for an hour and a half before he realised. Bless.

This morning’s post brought the latest Sparks tribute CD. The last one I bought was a double CD and was excellent. This one has cover versions of twenty of some of the more obscure Sparks tracks performed by various amateurs. It’s … “interesting”. Well, to be honest, not so much “interesting” as “tripe”.

I’ve always wondered about the popularity of amateur and semi-professional bands when so many of them are utter rubbish. And this CD confirms my opinion. The last quarter of the CD might warrant a second listening. The first three quarters certainly don’t. Oh well, just as I’m trying to economise, that’s another tenner down the pan.

16 August 2009 (Sunday) - "Skillful Navigation"

Having an early night last night was a good idea. I felt better this morning. Better as in “better”, rather than “better get a bucket”. The original plan for today had us travelling for a couple of hours to visit a campsite in west Sussex. But what with one thing and another we decided to put that on hold for a few weeks. Instead five of us (well, four and a half!) went down to Folkestone Warren. It could have been more, but emails didn’t arrive until too late. Oh well, there’s always next time.

Using “skilful navigation” we utterly failed to find the footbridge over the railway. Which was probably for the best. The idea was to walk along the countryside bits, then cross the railway and go up into Capel for a picnic and maybe even a crafty half (stranger things have happened). And then walk back again.

On reflection it’s probably as well we didn’t find the footbridge over the railway. Whilst the village of Capel is only one hundred yards north of that footbridge, it is some six hundred yards up. And that is an “up” which isn’t far from vertical. That’s quite a lot of “up”. We’ll save that for next time too. Have a look at the photos, and let me know if you’d be keen to join a mission going back to the warren in a few weeks’ time. I’m told there are fossils there…

On the way home we popped into FarmFoods for some shopping. I might have to go there more often. It’s far cheaper than Tesco’s, and doesn’t seem to attract the retard element. The fact that it doesn’t actually sell what I want to buy is neither here nor there. I shall just have to change my shopping preferences according to what FarmFoods have in stock. This might mean buying frozen carrots rather than socks, but it’s all in the interests of economy. After all, what I save on socks I can spend on beer.

And then an email from the arky-ologee club. They would seem to have dibs to dig at one of their standard sites from mid September through to next March. That’s six months worth. If they think I’m excavating that lot for them, they can go whistle.

I then printed off the latest letter to the chokey. This one is the thirtieth. He’s been in there for some time – thirty weeks (!). It can’t be that long until he’s released….