7 March 2015 (Saturday) - Medway Towns

This morning's emails brought one from the island of St Helena. Yesterday I was quite fired up about the idea of going to the south seas for a year. I had this naive idea of swapping my white laboratory coat for a Hawaiian shirt. This morning I found that what was actually being offered was not that which had been advertised.

They don't want someone to do the work I do now; they want a manager. And it wasn't for a year's contract; it was to be an ongoing open-ended arrangement which could be ended whenever they felt like it.

I've been a manager before. I was one for ten years and didn't like it very much. And I'm not keen on an open-ended arrangement either. I have bills to pay and need some measure of security.

Oh well; it was a nice dream while it lasted.

I put the lead onto "Furry Face ^TM" and we went for a walk. Bearing in mind that the park is filled with (bloody!) joggers on Saturday mornings we went round to Frog's Island. Leaving aside an impromptu game of "rabbit skittles" in the pet shop the walk was uneventful.

We set off to the Medway towns; the idea was to go to the Tiger Moth for lunch. Admittedly we were there a little early. Had they said "Sorry; we're not open yet" then maybe I might have waited. However they didn't. They didn't actually say "f@!k off we're shut" but that was certainly their implication. So we went down the road to the George. The food there was good, but the beer had gone off and the locals were rather scary. I actually left half a pint.

Gordon Tracy arrived, and we spent the afternoon going here and there round the Medway towns doing odd geocaches. Some were rather good; incredibly tricky. We managed two with the maximum difficulty setting. On the negative side we found one which seemed to have been drop-kicked into a thicket, and I found (yet) another playground-themed cache.

I had no idea there were so many hills in the Medway area; for no reason I seemed to wilt rather quickly today. I slept for most of the journey home.

With "er indoors ^TM" off to Folkestone for film night I had film night of my own. During the week I'd recorded a biographical film about Margaret Thatcher's early days. I suspect it was based far more on what would make a good film than on historical fact, but it made for entertaining viewing.

I also made a start on the laundry basket. I had that thing emptied only the other day. How come it's overflowing again?

6 March 2015 (Friday) - Just Maybe...

Over brekkie I checked emails. There was one from the power company following my having given them meter reading a week or so ago. Back in the autumn they reduced my monthly payments (for gas and electricity) by about a quarter becuae I was paying far more in the monthly direct debit than I was actually using. Now they are puttng the amount payable back up to what it was because my power consumption has gone up.

Every year is the same. They reduce the bill after the summer and then put it back to what it was after the winter. Do they really not understand that one of my major expenses is the heating bill, and I don't heat the house over the summer?

I spent a little while securing the services of a toilet-fixer. I had been recommended someone who'd done good work for a friend before. However the work he'd done had been heating. Despite the claims on this chap's website, he maintainted he didn't do bathrooms. Neither did several others that I contacted.

Why do people have websites advertising that they fix toilets, and boast that no job is too small, only to then say that they don't touch chodbins, and certainly not for anything as trivial as a leak?

I finally got someone who said he'd tackle my cludgee; he says he will arrive on Monday afternoon. I had hoped to be asleep on Monday afternoon in readiness for the night shift, but I suppose in the great scheme of things getting one's dump-station restored to health must take priority.

I spent much of the day daydreaming. I've seen an advert for a job I rather fancy. It's doing the same thing I do now; but on a smaller scale and for a fixed term contract.

I would be working in a small hospital; the one I currently work in has nearly three hundred beds; this one has forty. Thhe only real drawback is that it is a little way away. It would mean working away from home for extended periods at the hospital in Jamestown on St Helena. Jamestown has a population of just over seven hundred; and St Helena has a total population of just over four thousand. (That's less than a tenth of the population of Ashford). It's a small island about ten miles long by five miles wide just south of the Equator in the Atlantic Ocean. There's noo airport; I'd have to go out with the mail boat.

Would I really want to work there? I don't know. If work could give me a year's leave of absence I'd be seriously tempted... The boss says it's not an unreasonable request...

After work I didn't come straight home; I went to Downe House (somewhere near London) wheere the astro club had been asked (paid) to put on a show for the punters of English Heritage. We started off with telescopes in the garden, then brought everyone inside for a presenntation.

The punters seemed happy enough with what they got. It was only a shame I came home via the Dartford crossing...

5 March 2015 (Thursday) - World Book Day

In times gone by I was regularly awake at silly o'clock and so would be watching all sorts of series of TV dross. I'm not up early enough on a regular basis to do that any more. So this morning with no DVD boxed sets on the go, I struggled to find anything to watch.

I wound up watching Matt Hayes and his fishing programs on the Discovery-I'm-Bored channel.

Yesterday I said spring was on the way; this morning I had to scrape ice off of the car. As I drove to work I listened to the radio. The Prime Minister is causing consternation because he doesn't want to take part in live TV debates. I can't say I blame him. No current Prime Minister is going to look as good in a live debate as those who want his job.

Mind you there is talk of televised debates going ahead with an empty chair where a Prime Minister might have been sitting. That wouldn't be good for him either.

There is consternation (and rightly so) at an interview with a convicted rapist in India. This chap shows no remorse for his crimes, and says his victim is to blame. Apparently a "nice girl" would be at home when the rape took place; any woman who is within sight of a man is "gagging for it" and deserves all she gets. Furthermore she should just accept the rape and not put up any fight (!) The BBC have televised the interview and are planning to repeat it this coming Sunday. The journalist who recorded the interview was interviewed herself on this morning's radio when she said that that the rapist's words were pretty much echoed by many in India. She really felt that this was the sentiment of the masses.

To think it's only two day since I caused offence on social media by saying that most of the world is still in the dark ages.

Whilst I'm ranting, today is World Book Day. It's a yearly event organised by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), to promote reading, publishing and copyright.

It's been incredibly well supported in schools, or so one is supposed to believe. However rather than actually being about reading books, judging by the ranting expressed on the radio this morning it would seem that the focus of the day has actually been about turning up at school dressed as one's favourite Disney character.

It's interesting that this coincides with a new system of exams for school leavers. Head teachers being interviewed on the subject feel the government's proposals are too radical; and want too much change far too soon.

Critics of these same head teachers pointed out that the average child elsewhere in the world is generally academically years ahead than their British counterparts.

Perhaps if UK schools spent a little less time dressing up and a little more time doing the three Rs...?

I got to work, did what I could (as usual), and despite the earlier frost had a much warmer saxophone practice than usual. And with work done I went on to the weekly sax lesson. Teacher made some sense of the sharps and flats.

And then home. "er indoors ^TM" had a cob because her new hoover was knacked. I seem to be the prime suspect purely based on circumstantial evidence (even though I've not touched the thing), and the leak in the chodbin has got worse.

If any of my loyal readers could suggest anyone who is reliable and who repairs toilets....

4 March 2015 (Wednesday) - Ranting Feminists

I looked at the clock at 7am this morning and was rather amazed that I didn't feel as miserable about having to go back to work today as I have been in years gone by.

I got up, had brekkie and checked out the Internet. After yesterday's political arguments there was very little of note this morning.

I took "Furry Face ^TM" for his morning constitutional round the park. It was a bright morning; and for all that it was cold I did see that many of the trees now have leaf buds on them. Spring is on the way.

As we walked my dog terrified several dogs ten times his size, then ran in terror from a rather soppy-looking poodle.

We came home; I thought about going on a geo-mission to Elham, but changed my mind. Instead I set off directly to Canterbury. As I drove the radio was playing "Women's Hour" with it's usual brand of man-hating tirades. I would have thought that in this brave new world of equal opportunities "Women's Hour" would have been a thing of the past.

This morning the opinionated harridans were shrieking about political inequality in Northern Ireland. Apparently life is not fair for women in Ireland because the women there vote for the politicians they want to vote for. Would you believe that in this day and age the average Irishwoman votes for the politician who advocates the policies she supports?

The squawking harpies felt this was wrong. Irishwomen should vote for other Irishwomen for two reasons. Firstly because they are all women, and secondly because they are not men.

I was glad to get to Morrisons. As well as some fruit and jam I also got myself a CD. "Number Ones of the Seventies" was something I'd seen advertised and it made for far better listening than "Women's Hour" did.

I got to work rather earlier than I could have, and I stayed in the car park for half an hour practising on my saxophone. I gave up when my music stand got blown over for the umpteenth time. I then went in and did some work. Only some; not too much.

I had another sax practice at lunch time. The wind had backed off somewhat. "Star Trek" is coming on nicely. The theme to Blackadder has too many sharps for its own good.

I hate sharps and flats. Why do we have eight note and then allow some (but not all) to have sharps and flats (which are effectively different notes)? Why not have fourteen (or fifteen) notes from A to L or M and be done with it?

I don't know who it was who came up with the way music is written down, but I think they could have done a much better job of it. Interestingly a little research came up with the name Boethius who (although he was probably working on existing musical scores) allegedly assigned letters to two octaves' worth of tones some time around 500 AD.

The fact that this chap was later executed for treason is completely unrelated...

3 March 2015 (Tuesday) - Politics

If it wasn't the sound of "rythmical breathing" keeping me aawake last night it was the noise of the rain against the window. The sound of heavy rain before the last day of my holiday was rather depressing.

Equally depressing was reading social media. More and more people are expounding the virtues of whatever political party because their pal, auntie, cat's mother, or neighbour's dustman is a vague acquantance of a politician (actual or prospective). The fact that these people don't actually agree with the stated policies of their professed political parties is neither here nor there. No one seems to be voting for policies; everyone is voting for their mates. Rather than running the country on the priniciple of sensible policies we seem to be having a popularity contest.

Do we learn nothing from history?

I put the lead on to "Furry Face ^TM" and we went for a little walk. First of all we played postman; delivering Christening invitations. We then went on to the park where I met an ex-cub's mother who was walking a dog which was the size of a horse. Mind you my dog still tried to pick a fight with him. We carried on to Singleton Lake where a certain dog played "Goose Skittles".

Once home I hoseed the mud from "Furry Face ^TM" and then treated myself to KFC for lunch; it is the last day of my holiday after all. I scoffed KFC whilst watching a DVD. "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" is always entertaining; even if it's nearly twenty years old.

I then geo-puzzled for an hour or so before getting into an on-line political argument with a friend of my cousin's. She wasn't advocating voting for a personal pal, she was voting for the party which was offering free fish (up-front-in-her-pocket-now).

Apparently it makes sense to vote for personal greed rather than for any form of civic virtue...

I then listened to Internet radio until the clans gathered. At that point we played ChromeCast games and then watched an episode of "The 100". We would have watched "The Flash" but the SkyPlus box would seem to have eaten those episodes we'd recorded.

I wonder what else has vanished from the thing...

2 March 2015 (Monday) - Another Busy Day

After yesterday's walk it's not surprising I slept well. I would have slept better had "Furry Face ^TM" not tried to force me out of my pit in the early hours.

I got up earlier than I might have, and after a spot of brekkie took my dog for a walk. We went down to Park Farm for a spot of geo-maintenance. I had every intention of visiting five of my geocaches, giving them a bit of a clean-up, replacing the logs... someone else had already done it for me. It was rather good of them to have done that.

As I walked with my dog I lost count of the amount of idiots on bicycles who nearly crashed into me. So many of them were riding on pavements and were expecting me to jump into people's gardens to get out of their way. One such chap nearly garrotted himself on my dog's lead as he flew round a corner without looking where he was going. He saw the dog lead at the last moment, swerved, and wound up embedded into a hedge.

I suppose most cyclists are riding sensibly, but more and more are riding up the middle of roads thinking they are cars, or speeding along pavements expecting pedestrians to dive out of their way. A bike has a place as a child's toy, but as a form of transport it's becoming something of a pain in the arse.

We came home via Willesborough Dykes; I settled my dog (who went straight to sleep) and I drove up to town. I paid load of astro club money into the bank; I bought the makings of five gallons of ale.

I then drove down to Kingsnorth. "My Boy ^TM" was having a day's fishing with his mate; I spent an hour with them waiting for something to happen. But despite the sunshine it was a cold day, and there is only so much standing around a windy lake that I can do; especially when the fish aren't biting.

Mind you I was impressed with Charlie Rolf's Lake. The last time I was there, the lake was simply a pond. People would fish as and where they could; and the banks were dodgy to say the least. A lot of time and money has been spent at the place. There are paths all round the lakes; hardstanding paths. You don't need wellies at all. There are twenty or so platforms from which you can fish. There's a fee of fifteen pounds per day for fishing; but I can think of a lot worse places to go for a day's hunting haddock.

I came home via B&Q where I got a screw with which to effect repairs to the oven. With oven fixed I had a spot of lunch whilst watching "Dad's Army", then looked at the monthly accounts. They would be a lot healthier had I not bought a new back door.

I then put a film on the telly. "Zack and Miri Make a Porno" started off as a rather amusing and entertaining film. But it went on... and on... and (with a small dog curled up on my lap) I fell asleep. I woke up just in time for the end credits. I *could* have re-played the film. I didn't bother.

After a shower I then had something of a telly-o-thon evening. Blakey expressed his hatred for Butler in "On the Buses"; Captain Kirk did his thing wiith Nomad then there were four episodes of Big Bang Theory.

Before I could get "tellied out" I set about a few geo-puzzles. I solved a dozen space-related puzzles in the Brighton area.

Now to get myself invited down for a weekend....

1 March 2015 (Sunday) - The Anne Boleyn Series

I slept like a log last night and woke feleing like death warmed up. My little dog spent the night on the sofa and he too looked absolutely shattered when I saw him as I got up this morning. As I pootled about my dog watched me (like a hawk) from the sofa, whilst all the time pretending to still be asleep.

I was rather miffed by something I read on social media this morning; there's been vandalism down at Dover's Western Heights. "Joe Public" is up in arms about the matter, and rightly so. But as I've said before, pretty much all of the Western Heights area has been abandoned and left to rot; the only surprise is that it's taken so long for this vandalism to happen. After all, look what happened to Corfe Castle in the past. It too was just left to rot, and the locals built a village out of the remains.

With a sizeable perecentage of the "usual suspects" out of the country, rallying the troops didn't take very long this morning, and we set off to Wrotham where we met up with our geo-buddy "Fruitcake" and her followers.

Eight of us (and two small dogs) then set off on a geo-stroll. The "Anne Boleyn" geocache series took us up hill and down dale around the North Downs. We went through some rather beautiful scenery, and found some rather friendly sheep as we went too. We passed some rather nice houses on the way; and had our picnic lunch overlooking someone's estate. It was at this point that "Furry Face ^TM" tried to dig up a tree.

The girls took turns supervising the dogs; it can be no surprise that my dog needed most supervision.

We even met other hunters of tupperware as we walked too.

Billed as nine miles, we measured the route as being a shade over ten; we were out and about for just over six hours.

For a hike it was ideal; for a geo-series... the hides were great, but (not wishing to be critical) in all honesty I did feel that they were rather spread out. There were twenty eight caches in the series; there was probably space for over forty along the way. And we were rather confused about one of the hints. I maintain that the opposite of clock is haddock because you can't tell the time with a haddock.

I took a few photos whilst we were out too.

Once home a certain dog was bathed. It never fails to amaze me just how much mud can stick to such a small Patagonian Tripe-Hound. With him bathed and fed he fell asleep and was snoring; totally oblivious to a visit from "My Boy ^TM" who immediately harangued me about how was tiring that dog too much.

He then gave me some stick about the unavailability of torches and marched out to the shed in search of the fishing umbrella he'd left there several years ago. He's going fishing tomorow; I might pop along.

My piss then boiled at a post on the astro club's Facebook page. Some woman posted "...we got down there before 7.30 and spent an hour trying to park, couldn't find anywhere so came home... what time is it best time to get there?" I showed tremendous self restaint and didn't respond. But what does she want? Admittedly half the hall's car park has been blocked off, and also the place was busy on Friday because of another meeting in the other hall. However there was an entire street full of parking spaces not one hundred yards away.

Had she been prepared to walk for thirty seconds...