7 September 2010 (Tuesday) - More Skiving

I left home at 8.30am, and reminded myself why (when I’m not on an 11.30am start) I get to work so early. The traffic round Ashford is diabolical in the morning. In my first job at the Royal East Sussex Hospital in Hastings I was spoiled for choice for routes for getting to work; there are so many roads you can use in Hastings. Ashford is different; it’s an example of the total failure of local civic planning. With five railway lines out of the town and a motorway going through the middle, the town is effectively chopped up into segments. And it is very difficult to get from any of these segments to another. Take for example the motorway; there are about six kilometres of motorway dividing the town. There are only three places where it is possible to cross the motorway, and two of these are motorway junctions. Things are busy enough; it only takes the slightest delay at any of these points for the town to grind to a halt. I got from my house to being on the motorway in twenty-five minutes this morning; a journey which would normally take five minutes.

Another good day at work – another day I didn’t actually go in to the place. Yesterday I was assessing students at the University; today I got to assess a student in his workplace. I quite like this part of my job as I get to go and be nosey where other people work. Being the inspector, people call me “sir” (!) and give me coffee and biscuits, and I remind myself that much as I might grumble about my job, it’s really not as black as I (sometimes) paint it, and that everyone else is in the same boat as me (to coin a phrase).

The assessment I had to conduct took a couple of hours. I found myself repeatedly looking out of the window at the torrential rain; I don’t think I’ve ever seen rain like I saw today. As I drove home although the rain had stopped, in places the road was actually one big puddle – the entire width of the road was under water in several places. The rain had been so heavy and so fat that the drains had been unable to cope. But five miles away were clear blue skies and bone-dry roads. Had the rain really been that localised?

I made my way home for a spot of lunch and spent the afternoon making my official report. I could have gone in to work for the last hour, but instead I was cheeky and spent some time on a project of mine. It is my contention that the formal advice that students in my line of work get for the completion of their professional pre-registration portfolios is somewhat vague. So I have taken it onto myself to try to offer some guidance on the subject. To keep myself on the State Register I have to update and maintain my professional knowledge and skills, and so I’m hoping that by producing and keeping this website I’m keeping myself in good standing with those who might otherwise strike me off. Perhaps I should have gone into work for the last hour today. I shall find out tomorrow.

And as the afternoon wore on, the “Rear Admiral” phoned. Did I fancy an evening’s fishing? So we got our tackle out and spent a couple of hours in the evening sunshine drowning maggots. This new lake certainly isn’t what it was a couple of months ago…

6 September 2010 (Monday) - To the Wicked City

I finally got around to editing my Facebook friends list this morning. I’ve cut out over twenty people with whom I would seem to have only the most tenuous of connections (i.e. none at all). Whilst there’s no denying that I do use Facebook a lot, I’m finding it annoying enough to be told that people I do know have found lost cows in Farmville, and that they have beaten my score in some lame game or other. I really don’t care if someone I’ve never met nor communicated with in any way is creating a new mob in Mafia Wars.

I suppose I’m very fortunate to be able to have friends to throw away. I was amazed by today’s news – one of the founding members of a favourite band of mine has been found dead. Or that is, someone who might possibly be a member of that band has been found dead. It would seem that there was a road traffic accident in Devon last Friday, and police think they’ve identified the deceased from You-Tube videos. They might have identified him correctly, but they feel they need a formal identification and so are trying to contact the purported chap’s next of kin. It would seem the most likely candidate to actually be the deceased had an ex-girlfriend who is apparently “abroad”, and the police have formed the idea that the chap has a brother named David who lives somewhere in the Yorkshire area (that’s narrowed it down!). It always amazes me that there are people who have absolutely no one else in this world.

And then work – today was a day out. I had a day in the wicked city. Periodically I have cause to visit the University for various reasons. Today I was there to meet two students whose work I am to inspect over the next couple of years. The idea is that in order to achieve State Registration their work will be assessed by someone at the University and by someone in their workplace. And then I go along occasionally (as an impartial assessor) just to check that all is above board and that there is no shenanigans. So often students are both dull and dreary, or they so clearly feel the need to suck up to me as an assessor. It came as a breath of fresh air to meet my two students who are a lively pair. Once they told me that they were dreading being assigned to “someone normal” we got on like a house on fire.

I came home via Maplins (the electronics shop) where I had hoped to get a new astronomical laser. However the chap in the shop seemed to be something of a dumbo; he told me that none of his lasers were quite strong enough to actually reach the stars, but he could get one in for me, if I was prepared to come back in a few days time. I queried this, and the chap assured me that he could obtain a laser powerful enough to reach a star. I was under the impression that creating a laser beam with enough power not to be dissipated by the dust in several light years of interstellar space would require the industrial output of most of humanity, but what do I know?

As it was on the way to St Pancreas (!), I stopped off for a pint of lunch in the Bree Louise. I’ve mentioned this pub before. With a dozen ales straight from the barrel, it’s become one of my favourites. I’ve taken to calling in when I’m on my way home from the university, and during the late afternoon, it’s a really peaceful place to be. I sat with a pint of Gruntfuttock’s “Awld Arsewobbler” and a bag of crisps whilst quietly reading my book. There were about a dozen other people in the place, all doing the same. It’s a shame I only visit the university twice a year (on average).

And on the train home I remembered a conversation with one of my loyal readers about meeting up the next time I had cause to be in Central London. Sorry Terry… Next time….

5 September 2010 (Sunday) - It Rained

I awoke at 2am to the sound of Tom Jones bellowing out his classic chart-topper “Delilah”. I was awake, I had a tiddle whilst I wondered how much longer the wedding celebration down the road could possible go on for. I eventually dozed off (despite the noise). Music was quieter, but still clearly audible at 3.30am, and when I wandered down to the toilet block at 8am I could hear someone on a loudspeaker wishing the best to the happy couple.

I washed up, and as the rest of our party awoke, we prepared breakfast. And we had bacon, sausage and egg sandwiches in the rain. The rain started about 8.30, and lasted for an hour or so. Long enough to soak us and our kitchen table. As the rain slackened off we packed away that which we could, and the sun came out and (mostly) dried our tents, so we got them packed before the next shower. The original plan for today was to get packed away as quickly as possible, and then we could play kites as long as we wanted, and then (having already packed away) make a quick getaway sometime in the mid afternoon. However with no wind at all, and being soaked from the intermittent heavy showers, we decided to go home early. We said our goodbyes, which took some time and then set off home, where we looked on line for some sort of lightweight awning.

I’d been looking forward to camping at Sumner’s Ponds for ages; it was a shame that the weather was against us. But I’d certainly go again. Reflecting on the camping trips I’ve done this year, I find myself leaning away from the whole concept of “Kite Festival”. The Kite Festivals are organised with “the normal people” in mind, but at two of my year’s three “camping” kite festivals you can’t actually fly a kite because the normal people are in the way playing football and having picnics. And if you don’t try to fly a kite in the middle of them, you feel you shouldn’t be at the kite festival. This weekend was in many ways very similar to last week’s Bat-Camp – a private camp of like minded friends.

However, next time I’m not going to go quite so minimalist. Minimalist camping is all very well provided it doesn’t rain. This year I’ve done five camping trips, and four of them have been very wet at one stage or another. This weekend’s camping was in many ways as an experiment, and one of the things we found is that we need a communal shelter. Usually we have one, and not having one this weekend, we really missed it. Pretty much everyone else on site had a caravan or camper, and most of those had awnings. Whilst we had several offers of the use of awnings, firstly in order to use said awning you need to be camped nearby, and secondly I don’t like to impose.

Normally we take a huge frame tent. We hadn’t this time. For future Sumner’s Ponds weekends we will look to investing in a lightweight cooking shelter, or we will bring “Brown and Smelly” with us...

4 September 2010 (Saturday) - Sumner's Ponds

Up with the lark, and once the Folkestone contingent had arrived we set off to deepest West Sussex. For some time our kite-flying friends have been organising weekend get-togethers for like minded people. Regular readers may recall we visited Sumner’s Ponds for a day about a year ago, and loved what we saw. I’ve been planning to go back to join in for a camping weekend for some time. However (as regular readers will attest) my life is a busy one, and this was the first weekend when I could get along.

Normally when we camp we take along a lot of stuff with us. It takes forever to set up. This time we thought we’d try “minimalist” camping; only taking the bare necessities. We arrived at Sumner’s Ponds shortly before 11am, and soon set up our tents and our kitchen table. We met a load of old friends, and one or two new ones, and we sat chatting for a while before six of us set off on a walk to find some lunch.

Lunch was lurking a couple of miles away at the Bax Castle – a very good pub with three ales and a very reasonably priced menu. And ice creams with monkey blood as well. We had a very enjoyable lunch before wandering back to the camp site. On the way we found preparations for a wedding celebration. (More of that later….) To get back to camp we had to go past another pub, so it seemed only sensible to have a pint of Horsham’s Best and a pint of Doom Bar in the Queens Head.

We got back to camp at 4pm, and whilst the girls had a doze I got out the Air-Yo and played “Kite Sabres” with the children. As is so often the way at kiting events there was precious little wind, but still we made the most of what we had. I even managed to blag the use of one of the lifter kites to fly my new windsock. And then, with the evening fast moving on, we adjourned to the communal barbecue where everyone cooked their own tea, and a gentleman from north of Ipswich taught me to speak fluent “Faaaaaaakin Laaaaandaaaaan”, a dialect spoken by the denizens of our capital city (or so I am reliably informed). The beer flowed, as did the port, and after a firework display and an impromptu star-spotting session we sat chatting by the camp fire with friends old and new until midnight. We were in no hurry to go to bed – the wedding we’d found earlier in the day was still in full flow, and even at 12.30am was rather deafening from over a mile away….

3 September 2010 (Friday) - Cards

For once I was not wide awake most of the night struck with insomnia. And so it would be tonight that work phoned at 4am asking my advice. 

After work I loaded the car for the weekend, and then round to Matt’s house for a game of cards. It must be over a year since I last played a game of poker, and it’s no secret that in the intervening time I’ve not got any better at the game. Starting with the same amount of chips as everyone else, within an hour I was reduced to using beer bottle tops to stay in the game. I need to practice.

Reading the news I see that professor Stephen Hawking has announced that God did not create the universe. Apparently science can explain creation without the need for God. Whilst I can hardly claim to be the most devout believer in the world, I can’t help but feel that science is being very brave in dismissing the Almighty so flippantly. *He* might not have created the universe, but I’m not going to take the risk of telling *Him* that. After all, the French mathematician Blaise Pascal had words to say on the matter – look up Pascal’s wager on-line.

2 September 2010 (Thursday) - Boilers

I was woken by a text message at 6am this morning. “Daddies Little Angel ^TM ”’ had spent the night sitting by an open front door waiting for the cat to come back after his ordeal yesterday. She must have dozed off at one point as she woke to find the cat had returned, seemingly none the worse for his mishap. I’m glad the cat is unharmed; I can now wring its neck for all the upset and heartache the thing has caused.

Seeing a parking space outside my house, I moved my car there (from miles away) and put the seats back into it. I now have a car again, as opposed to a closed-back pick-up truck. Having said that, I’m still not convinced I wouldn’t be better off with a pick-up truck.

The nice man arrived to service my boiler( Oo-er!) He opened it up, and he didn’t need to say anything. It had clearly corroded, and it was leaking. I’ve had the thing for twenty years, and realistically it’s had it. He’s going to give me a quote for a new one, but in many ways the quote is academic. It needs to be replaced, and whilst he’s at it, there’s a whatjamacallit in the central heating circuit that’s on the way out too. From experience I know there are no other plumbers in Ashford who will get off their backsides, let alone trouble themselves to give me a competitive quote. My new boiler will feature in a blog entry in the near future.

And so to work.

1 September 2010 (Wednesday) - Ashford Ink

With the laundry basket seriously overflowing, it was time to do something about it. It always amazes me how much laundry anyone can generate, and I was out in the garden at 7.30am pegging out two washloads. It was a beautiful morning; I was quite comfortable in my jim-jams. Quite a contrast to a few days ago when at the same time in the morning I was shivering: fully clothed with several layers of T-shirts and jumpers. Being on a late start I had some time to kill, so I then spent much of the morning alternating between washing, drying and NeverWinter. I knew when to stop washing when the washing line snapped. A bit of a nuisance – I’ll fix it in the morning.

Realising how full of grass the car was after several weekends in fields over the summer, I took it to be valeted. It came out gleaming, but in spite of this whilst parking in Tescos I was harangued by the itinerant car washers. I asked them if my sparkling car looked like it needed to be cleaned, and they just stared at me and asked if I wanted it cleaned or not.

Work was the same as ever, and then home to “Ashford Ink”: - “My Boy ^TM ” has wanted to be a tattoo artist for some years, and over the last few weeks he’s bought all the stuff and has been practising on artificial skin and various citrus fruits. Bearing in mind how dull some of my tattoos have become I offered him the chance to gain some experience by colouring them in. Today’s picture really doesn’t do justice to what he’s done; he’s done an excellent job. I shall get him to do the rest. It’s a shame how much tattoos hurt otherwise I’d bee keeping him very busy.

And then the phone rang - “Daddies Little Angel ^TM ” was distraught. Her cat had been hit by a car. So I abandoned my plans for tea and SpongeBob and set off to see what I could do. When I arrived it seemed that the cat had (probably) bounced off the car, and the sensible money (the vet) thought that in cases like this cats hide until they are over the shock, at which point they come home when they are ready. We searched the nearby streets for said moggy, but he wasn’t to be found. So I came home – I might as well await developments here as anywhere. But I expect I shall lay awake worrying…