23 June 2014 (Monday) - Cling Film for a Window

Yesterday we walked for nineteen miles. By the time we'd got home, washed fox poo off of the dog, bodged the car window shut and phoned the insurance people (to be told that windows wasn't their problem) it was gone midnight before I got to bed. The CPAP machine did its best, but by 5am my nose was completely bunged up and I was wide awake.

"Furry Face ^TM" came downstairs with me; he'd sneaked upstairs during the night. Being a small dog I don't really notice him at the foot of the bed. He didn't want any toast today; he just jumped onto the sofa and went to sleep.

The drive to work was noisy this morning with the cling film (which was supposed to double up as the window) blowing in the wind. Consequently I couldn't hear a thing on the radio; which was probably for the best.

I stopped off at Morrisons for some fruit; they were playing Christmas tunes over their loudspeakers. What was that all about? As always in Morrisons I used the self-service checkout. For the first time in nearly three years the machine worked with no problems and I didn't have to ask the nice lady for help.

And so to work; when I found a spare five minutes I telephoned the garage. They said to drop the car with them this evening and they would have a look when they could; but it probably wouldn't be until Thursday.

So I then spent a few minutes checking train times for this week. The trains seem to run a reasonable service; far better than the buses. It's only a shame that the train station is so far from where I work. Google Maps tells me that the distance is a mile and a half, and that it will take me thirty five minutes to walk that distance. I did nineteen miles yesterday; I can do a mile and a half tomorrow morning.

I slipped out of work a few minutes early and came home. I collected "Furry Face ^TM" and took him and the car to the garage. I left the car there with the nice man, and we came home via Frog's Island. It seemed daft for me to take the car straight to the garage, walk home for over a mile and then be faced with a small dog who wanted a walk.

With "er indoors ^TM" off bowling I watched the latest episode of "The Forsyte Saga". If you like period dramas it isn't too bad at all.

Bearing in mind I need to be on the 6.30am train tomorrow I should really get an early night...

22 June 2014 (Sunday) - Haywards Heath

After driving various inebriated womenfolk home last night it was gone 1am before I got to bed. I was wide awake at 5.30am this morning feeling as though I had the world's worst hangoover. How is that possible? Over a spot of brekkie I checked out the Internet. Rik Mayall died a wek or so ago. Another comedy genius had died as well. Patsy Byrne who played "Nursie" in Blackadder has died. It turns out she was born in Ashford. It's a small world!

The Rear Admiral arrived, and we were soon off. Collecting another small dog and her associate we were on the motorway by 8.30am. Today being the longest day of the year we had planned a rather long walk which was a rather long way away from home. We were eventally in deepest Sussex and were walking the GFW series of geocaches; billed as eighty caches along sixteen miles oof Sussex countryside it finally turned out to be eighty six geocaches over nineteen miles and eleven hours. Many of the placs we walke and caches we founnd seemed very familiar. Do Sussex cachers archive caches and then put out new ones in *exactly* the same places? It certainly seemed so. Interestingly reading my blog comments from a year ago (when we were last in the area) I said exactly the same thing then.

As we walked we saw deer. We saw pretentious prats pretending to be cultured at a village open day. We got rather hot; it was a very hot day. Even my dog felt the heat. He rarely drinks when offered water, but when Suzy started having a drink from the water bowl, rather than ignoring it (like he usually does) he stood patiently next to her and cried. It was so sad.

We nearly cried at the second pub on our walk. Four small glasses of pop cost over ten quid. They don't give the stuff away, do they?

Bearing in mind how good "Furry Face ^TM" had been yesterday he was off the lead for most (nearly all) of today's walk and he was as good as gold. He was walking awkwardly at one point; I think he's trodden on a stinging nettle, and at another point he stopped dead and held up his paw. He'd got a dead holly leaf stuck in his foot.

A tiring walk, but a good one. We did take a couple oof wrong turns along the way. But only a couple. I even took the occassional photo whist we were walking.

There's no denying that we finished a lot later than I was expecting, and so we stopped off at Clackett Lane services for some McTea. As we scoffed I had the car windows open. I closed them for the journey home. Or that is I tried to. The passenger side window had broken in the "open" position, which made for a rather cold, noisy and windy journey home.

I've bodged it up with sellotape and cling film. I supposse I should phone a garage in the morning..

21 June 2014 (Saturday) - FTFs and Strippers

Continuous positive airway pressure machine only work when they can blast air into airways. With a completely obstructed conk I only slept for about three hours last night. I gave up trying to sleep and was ironing my shirts shortly after 5am.

The plan for the day involved picking people up at 8.45am. Most people feel that is an early start. For me the day *really* seems half-gone by then. This surgical re-bore of my nose can't come quickly enough.

I added the trackable number to "The World's Sexiest Hat" (it's a geocaching thing) and with ten to go minutes before we set off on our planned geo-mission before today's geo-meet a whole load of new geocaches went live. So we abandoned our planned walk and thought we'd chase the FTFs.

We got to say that we were the First One to Find It on a few ocassions today; for which we were rather smug. There were one or two we didn't find, including one up a tree which was rather higher thaan we'd been led to beleive (or so we have been told). We shall go back next weekend and have a look-see.

After our stroll we wandered down to the nearby pub for the monthly geo-meet. An afternoon spent sitting in the sunshine chatting with friends is always good. It would have been good to have stayed longer, but other plans had been made.

I rounded up the women of the family and took them to Hastings for a hen party. I then went over the road where the men of the family were having a crafty barby; periodically visited by women for whom the hen party was just a lttle too much. We had a good time scoffing burgers and chatting. I am reliably informed that the ladies had a good time with meat as well when the stripper arrived. There were some rather alarming shrieks when he started waving his nasty like a lasso (apparenlty). I was asked if was at all concerned that some bloke was benig paid over a hundred quid to brandish his cock at my aunt, mother, wife, sister in law, daughter and daughter in law. The only concern I had was that if he was getting so much money why couldn't I get paid to wave mine about too...

20 June 2014 (Friday) - Blean Woods

I do like having a series of TV shows which I can watch, one episode at a time, over brekkie. At the moment it's "The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin" which I am recording from UK Gold. This morning as "Furry Face ^TM" ate my toast I watched Reggie trying to come back from beyond the grave before falling headlong into raw sewage. Hardly hilarious slapstick, but it passes an otherwise dull half-hour.

Being on a late start we had our walk before work today. I took my dog over to the co-op field where I found a large stick. He likes to carry a stick about, and today I used that to my advantage. This stick was ideal for my purposes. "Fetch" as a game is improving, but still leave a lot to be desired. So this morning every time when he wouldn't give the ball back I waggled the stick at him. He would them immediately drop the ball and go for the stick. I could then get the ball into the thrower, chuck it again, and off we would go.

It certainly made playing "fetch" easier and quicker; it's just a shame we have to have quite so much over-excited barking and woofing.

And so to work. As I drove I listened to "Desert Island Discs" in which the Palestinian author and human rights activist, Raja Shehadeh (who?) listed the pretentious music he'd like to be thought to listen to. Wagner, Dvorak, Shubert, why does no one on that show ever listen to anything which isn't actually dreadful.

One day I shall publish my eight Desert Island Discs. I wonder what they will be? ELO and Sparks will be in there as will (I suspect) Kate Bush, Gloria Gaynor, Sinitta and Ivor Biggun.

I had a little time to kill before I was needed on duty, so as I was nearby (sort of) I drove up to Blean woods. There were four geocaches in those woods that had been hidden since I was last there, and also three munzees to be found as well. After a little to-ing and fro-ing I found the lot.

Whilst in the woods I also found (and was chatted up by) a rather fit bird with an Alsatian. I think she might have been "up for it" (the fit bird; not the Alsatian), but I've never really been a good judge of that sort of nonsense. Which is probably for the best.

And so to work. I did my bit. At lunch time I blew my saxophone. And I came home again. There was a little good news during the day; about five years ago I was in a lottery syndicate. The syndicate was losing money hand over fist, and as the thing folded the little remaining cash in the account was invested in premium bonds. One of those has come up trumps; I recevied a cheque for thirty quid. Not an Earth-shattering amount, but it is better than a kick up the bum.

Once home I went to the Chinese take away; with "er indoors ^TM" off out with her mates I was left to forage for tea. I got myselff curry and chips.

It's not sitting well...

19 June 2014 (Thursday) - New Shoes...?

Last night wasn't a good night's sleep; a few months ago I would have been well impressed having slept through to 4.30am, but in these new halcyon days of positive-pressure-enhanced sleep 4.30am is a little early to be waking.

My dog didn't stir as I watched Reggie Perrin finally flip, and having checked out social media and seen absolutely nothing happening in the world I set off to work for an early shift,

As I drove the news droned on in the background. It would sem that one half of the denizens of the Middle East are doing their level best to murder the other half.

It's terrible; it really is. But I'm afraid that from the bitter experience of having listened to the news for the last several years, that really does seem to be how things are in the Middle East. So many people there seem determined to kill each other (and anyone else within striking distance come to that), and recent history has shown that there's not much that can be done to stop them.

Realistically the Western world needs to realise that forcing western values (of not killing everyone else) isn't really going to work in this part of the world.

The "World Dementia Envoy" was whinging that research into dementia has been "achingly slow" with only three new drugs for the condition having been developed in the last twenty years.

What does he expect? Brain chemistry is a fiendishly complex area, and there are far more easier profits to be made elsewhere. It's no good having politicians making announcements that dementia will be cured within ten years and then expecting the pharmaceutical industry to spend their money to come up with the goods. In a field like this it needs public sector commitment of cash, and that's not going to happen.

Talking of spending cash in the public sector, and following on from yesterday's little rant about overspending on health care, today there are calls from the Health Secretary for the banning of boob jobs on the NHS.

Not just boob jobs, but a blanket ban on all taxpayer-funded cosmetic surgery such as breast implants, nose jobs and tummy tucks. Makes sense - if anyone wants (or doesn't want) epic tits then they can fund their own (or the removal of them) themselves.

That should save a few bob. Following on from yesterday's little rant the NHS is now back within budget.

And so on with work. I didn't tell the boss I've solved the firm's financial worries; I don't like to overstep the boundaries (any more). I did my bit, and at lunchtime I blew on my saxophone. As I did I had a revelation. I'm sure the accomplished musicians among my loyal readers are well aware of the fact, but in music sharps and flats are different things. I've only really today made that conscious realisation. It has explained several bum notes along the way. Now I've only got to figure out how to get a sharp or a flat out of the sax.

And so home. As I walked "Furry Face ^TM" round the park I thought I felt my walking shoe was't right. I bought a pair of waking shoes in March. After a few weeks the soles split. I was given a replacement pair free of charge, and after another few weeks this pair has also split.

This time I'm getting a refund...

18 June 2014 (Wednesday) -Stuff

Over brekie I watched more of the adventures of Reggie Perrin. Today he was having hanky-panky willy-nilly. CJ wasn't impressed - he didn't get where he was thirty-odd years ago by having hanky-panky willy-nilly.

Whilst still eminently amusing over an early brekkie, the show has lost a certain something with the pasage of time.

Off to work. As I drove I listened to the radio. I always do so ; the reception is usually terrible, and most of what I can make out through the crackling boils my piss. But if I don't listen to it I end up so out of touch with reality.

There are those who wouldn't see that as a bad thing...

Sir John Major has added his voice to the "Vote No" campaign about Scottish independence. He's talking sense. Why on Earth would any Scot vote for independence? Misplaced arrogant pride and incomprehensible hatred of the English would be the only reasons that I can see. And the really daft thing is that having given the two-fingers to the rest of the United Kingdom, it's no secret that the first thing an independent Scotland would do would be to submit itself to whatever terms the European Union might dictate so Scotland could retain EU membership. Where is the logic in that?

And the NHS is under financial pressure again. Apparently with a projected overspend of two billion pounds the pundits are up in arms about waste and savings.

Well here's one way to cut the shortfall. According to official figures missed appointments are a serious problem in the health service. Twelve million GP appointments were missed last year. If I miss a dental appointment I am billed for it. Why not let the same happen with GP appointments? Charging the pundits twenty five oncers a go for each missed appointment (and that's cheap!) would raise three hundred million quid every year.

And nearly seven million hospital outpatient appointments are also missed. According to the same official figures each of those missed appointments costs the system (i.e. the taxpayer) just over one hundred quid. Why should we pay? Billing those who don't show up would raise seven hundred and forty five million pounds on an annual basis.

There's one billion of the shortfall found, and it only took me five minutes to work it out. Only another billion pounds to find... I'll leave that to the so-called experts.

There was a minor catastrophe with my lunchtime saxophone practice; my music stand has broken. The screw adjuster on the bottom section has gone squafty. At the moment I am able to bodge it in place; but I can't say I'm impressed with the thing. I spent twenty quid on it and it's only lasted a couple of months.

And so home again. I took "Furry Face ^TM" for a walk; I only wish I'd remembered to change my pants first. The elastic had gone in them earlier in the day which hadn't made for the most comfortable of days, and certainly didn't make for the most comfortable of walks. Supervising a recalcitrant Patagonian Tripe-Hound is tricky enough at the best of times; it is positively hard work when one's undercrackers are randomly diving south at every opportunity.

17 June 2014 (Tuesday) - Tetrahedral

I was woken this morning by the sound of "Furry Face ^TM" being hoofed off of the end of the bed as "er indoors ^TM" rolled over in her sleep. I felt sorry for the poor pup and went downstairs with him. I combed him (he likes that) and fed him most of my toast as I watched Reggie Perrin being beastly with his secretary (he likes that - Reggie, not "Furry Face ^TM").

Being on a late start I had some time to spare so I took my dog for a walk. I'd had a report that one of my geocaches had gone missing so I thought we might walk out and have a look-see. Needless to say the thing was exactly where I'd hidden it all those months ago.

Whilst we made our way into into Newtown we found ourselves walking just behind a gaggle of rather "council" young mothers. They were "discussing" (shrieking about) the current World Cup football matches. One of them had announced that she wasn't supporting England any more; she was supporting Italy from now on. After the other three had made protestations of patriotism (all using the F-word) the first explained her reasoning. "Shaddap, Shaddap" she started, and in much the same delightful tone she went on to say that you *have* to support a team (apparently) so you might as well support one that has a very good chance of winning.

On hearing this the other three harpies actually "shad ap" and after a moment's reflection realised that the logic was inescapable. It was a shame that at this point me and my dog turned right whilst they walked straight on; I would have liked to have heard them prove that black was white.

We met a cat which was sitting on the path. Before I could stop him, "Furry Face ^TM" flew at the cat. The cat wasn't fazed; it just sat where it was and glared with contempt at my dog who was completely nonplussed by a cat that didn't run away. He gave it a couple of experimental woofs before I could get his lead on him and drag him away. A little later I let him off the lead again and after we played "fetch" (he's getting better at it) he puddled in the river.

I left for work a little earlier than I needed to; with a beautiful morning I thought I might do a spot of geocaching before work. I set off to Bekesbourne where I tracked a couple down. One was on the site of an old airfield used during the war. The other... It was actually rather scary. In a corner of a field there were about a hundred concrete pyramids; each about a metre tall. The pyramids were very old and whatever their original use was would seem to have disappeared into the mists of time. Many of these pyramids were now under stinging nettles and brambles. But many were still visible, and they all looked incredibly out of place. It was eerie - almost like something out of an episode of "Doctor Who". The geocache I was after was concealed at the furthest end of these pyramids, necessitating making my way through them all.

It was rather nerve-wracking going through them; I was half-expecting to be physically attacked by the inanimate concrete objects. Perhaps I watch too much sci-fi...?

After that excitement the rest of the day was rather dull in comparison.