14 October 2015 (Wednesday) - A Bottle of Wine

In complete contrast to Monday night I slept well last night. After about seven hours sleep my back was hurting too much to carry on laying in bed. Backache is usually a sign that I've been in my pit for too long. I got up, and spent a little while trying to find where "Daddies Little Angel ^TM" has put everything. I *hate* being tidied up. I might live in a total mess, but I know where everything is. An especially valuable geocaching trackable was on the living room table when I left home yesterday. It has gone now. I've even emptied the bins across the floor searching for it. The thing has travelled a thousand miles just to have the most recent fruit of my loin "tidy it up"

When I finished swearing I watched yesterday's episode of "Chewing Gum" in which Tracy tries to get on with her life despite her religious family background. It's actually a very good comedy, but I recognise so much from my own "religious nut" days. The line "I don't neeed to read the Bible because I go to church" rerminded me of so many people I've met. And I did giggle when Tracy's boyfriend turned out to fancy Jesus.

I had a quick look on-line. Amazon dot com was still trying to sell me that which I had already bought from them. I wish they wouldn't do that.

As I drove to work I found myself being tailgated by a lorry from Qik toilet rentals. If any of my loyal readers ever want to rent a toilet, I'd suggest renting from someone else.

Despite running the risk of a portaloo up the khyber I listened to the radio as I drove. And again the Labour party shows how it has gone from being a plausible government to being a laughing stock by having a U-turn on supporting the government's deficit policy.

Surely it makes sense not to spend more money than you've got? they government is trying to make it illegal for any UK government to spend more money than they have (in "normal" times). It strikes me to be common sense, but apparently the crackpot loonies who now form the Loyal Opposition think it is a bad idea. Or some of them do. The more sensible ones are looking set to vote against their party.

I know - I should have stood for parliament.... Maybe next time...

I stopped off at Morrisons on my way to work this morning. As well as razor blades I got a box of choccie biccies for work (as it is Hastings Day today) and a bottle of (supposedly) decent red wine as it was up for sale at half the usual price.

I came home through the rain and took "Furry Face ^TM" for a walk. We only went round the block, and both came home soaked. "er indoors ^TM" eventually came home and over a rather good bit of dinner we had that bottle of wine I got this morning. In retrospect that bottle was over-priced at six quid. In fact it was bloody awful.

I'm glad I didn't pay the full price. Last week's bargain rot-gut was far superior. But that's wine I suppose. Why is it that a bottle of wine that costs four pounds actually tastes better than something which costs thre times the price?

And in closing today our old friend science has found some aliens. It's a shame they are so far away...

13 October 2015 (Tuesday) - Nudey Ladies

I slept like a log and woke feeling raring to go. I looked at the clock and saw it was 1.10am. I then just dozed fitfully for the rest of the night; finally giving up and getting up shortly before 6am. I set the washing machine loose on my smalls and then threw honey all over the kitchen floor. Having a small dog comes in handy for clean-up.

Over brekkie I watched last night's episode of "The Last Man on Earth" and then "Toddlers and Tiaras". One of the toddlers today was names Cearliegh which was (apparently) pronounced "Curly". I did laugh when that one was called up to collect her prize. Having first seriously gloated at her competitors she then ran to the podium and fell flat on her face.

As I drove to work I listened to the radio. The Leader of the Opposition, Jeremy Corbyn, has surpassed the expectations of even his staunchest critics. Having refused to join the Privy Council because he won't bow to the Queen he has (quite rightly) not been allowed the title of "Right Honorable" and now has decided to demand the place on the Privy Council that he refused to take last week.

It never fails to amaze me how the one party which stands for common decency has the ability to deliberately make themselves unelectable time after time.

There was a report from the scene of the current test match. Did you know there was a test match going on at the moment? No - neither did I. Pakistan are playing England. The chap giving the report pointed out that there were only about fifty people in the crowd watching the match. He then wondered if such a poorly supported event should really get coverage on prime-time national radio.

So did I.

But surely the most important news of the day is that Playboy magazine is going to stop publishing photographs of nudey ladies without any clothes on. Apparently people aren't paying good money for nudey pictures when serious filth is freely available on the Internet, and Playboy wants to become a serious respected publication.

Good for them. What is the moral high ground for, if not for claiming?

I got to work after forty minutes driving. If I leave home at 7.15am I get to work shortly before 8am. If I leave at 7.30am it takes nearly an hour. I'd rather get there early and spend time reading my e-book rather than spending time burning petrol and boiling my piss listening to the radio in traffic jams. After all, I'm usually up early enough.

I read my e-book, did a little work, and came home again. I do that.

I came home to find "Daddies Little Angel ^TM" was visiting. She'd done a little tidying up so once she'd set off home I spent a little while finding where everything had gone. I then wasted a little time fighting with domain names, and as "er indoors ^TM" went off to the Tuesday gathereing I ironed a few shirts. Tonight's gathering was to be a late start; what with the 1am wake up this morning the clans were gathering at about the time I would be nodding off so I gave it a miss.

I could do with a good kip tonight...

12 October 2015 (Monday) - On the Late Shift

After a rather restless night I got up. I found a small dog next to me which probably explained a lot. Over brekkie I saw that social media was alive with the vulcan bomber XH558. Yesterday I mentioned that I didn't really know much about the plane so over brekkie I corrected this gap in my education. Unless I'm missing something I can't see any reason for the thing's popularity. It hasn't really done or been involved in anything of historical importance that I can see. So why has it gripped the nation's interest?

I asked this question of a few people today, and it seems to me that everyone I asked was watching it because everyone else was. Mind you several people were rather aggressive about the thing. Why is it that so often people can't understand that disinterest doesn't equate with dislike and/or contempt. I have no real interest in the vulcan (or in rugby, football or soaps). Doesn't mean I dislike any of them.

Most people can't see that...

With brekkie scoffed I fed some grubby laundry to the washing machine and took "Furry Face ^TM" for a walk. As we walked round through Bowens Field and the park I watched my dog "like a pork" (to coin a phrase). After his episode with the pheasant yesterday I wasn't taking any chances. But our walk passed off uneventfully.

Once home I gave him his brekkie, hung out the laundry, and then went to Folkestone to see the littlun. Several people have recently asked about the little baby with whom I appear in photographs on Facebook. And one or two have refused to believe he is my grandson as (apparently) I'm not old enough to be a granddad.

I smile about that.

Me and littlun watched "Clangers" this morning, I had a cuppa, then me and his mother loaded my car with stuff for the tip. I was sure I knew where Folkestone's tip was... It seems that what I thought was the tip was actually a sports club. But not to worry... I knew of another tip in Densole... Or so I thought.

I've still got a car full of rubbish I need to unload somewhere. If all else fails I know of a hedgerow near Barham where other people chuck their unwanted rubbish.

As I drove the pundits on the radio were discussing the public perception of history. Most people have a somewhat warped view of history based on what they see on the telly. Some professional historian was ranting that TV producers and authors had a duty to be historically accurate. The pundits then wheeled on TV producers and authors who pointed out that the reality of history was rather dull and they were in the business of entertaining people. After all, are people *that* stupid that they beleive what they see on the telly?

As it all descended into name-calling I turned the radio off.

I had few minutes before work so I downloaded another e-book. I've heard good things about "Emanations". I've read stuff by this author before. He writes in a style which isn't entirely unlike John Wyndham; I've liked his previous stuff so I thought I'd give it a go.

And if I don't like it I shall ask the author for my money back.

I wonder if he can sign an e-book?

11 October 2015 (Sunday) - Earthcache Day

Earlier in the week I mentioned I'd bought the e-book "Night of the Triffids". I've finished it now. It was actually a good read written in the same sort of sexist 1950s way that Wyndham wrote "Day of the Triffids". But (and in my world there is usually a "but") I did think that six quid was just a little bit expensive for what it was. I can understand that a physical book costs money to produce and distribute, and that book shops have running costs. But e-books don't have anywhere near the same overheads.

Regular readers of this drivel may recall that a few years ago I did a course on astro-biology. The chap who lead that (free) course has written a book on the subject. I looked at getting that book on my Kindle app. It is currently on offer on Amazon dot com at a sixty seven per cent reduction. But even with that reduction it is still nearly forty quid. Forty quid. For an e-book?

Over brekkie I had a look-see on social media and got into a minor squabble on the Ashford Kent Today group. Someone was trying to do a "Power Of The Internet" thing in which she would use the power of the Internet to find the owner of some stuff for which she had accepted delivery. Personally if the postman tries to deliver something which isn't for me I refuse delivery. Or if he's stuck it through the letterbox I write "not known at this address" and stick it back in the post box. I asked why anyone would accept delivery of something when they had no idea who the recipient was. Apparently I wasn't being helpful (!)

My back and elbow were a little painful after yesterday's heavy lifting, but I'm not one to give up at the first twinge. Today is International Earthcache Day in which hunters of tupperware do their geology homework for which we all get an e-souvenir. Being rather keen on earthcaches meant I'd done most of the nearby ones so we set off to the closest one for which I was eligible which was at Dry Hill which isn't a million miles from Biggin Hill.

We met up with several like-minded friends there, and having found one sandwich box at the base of a tree we did our geology homework. There's no denying I got something of a muddy bum as I skidded to the bottom of the incline doing mine.

With phase one of the day's plan done some of our number went off to take the boys to play football. Some went off to do a few drive-by geocaches. and some of us then went a mile or so down the road where there was a trail of fifteen geocaches leading us round a rather beautiful walk; we only lost our way once.

As we walked there were several pheasants who were making the dogs very over-excited. I've often wondered what would happen if "Furry Face ^TM" ever actually caught a pheasant. Now I know. He was on the lead, but the lead does extend. And in my defence "er indoors ^TM" had hold of the lead. But there wasn't really anything she could have done. He shot into the hedge and came out with a freshly killed pheasant in his mouth. The thing's neck was clearly broken so it had been a clean kill (which was probably for the best), and with it removed from the hedge he started to rip the feathers out. We took a few photos, and made our way on to the pub.

We'd arranged for everyone to meet up at the Woodman at 1.30pm; once there and with everyone together I downloaded the untappd app which Mark and I had been chatting about. And then something odd happened. I had no problem downloading a 16Mb app, but I couldn't connect to register what beer I was drinking. Or the next one. Or even the third.

From the Woodman we made our way back to the cars then relocated another mile down the road for the third part of the day; another (slightly shorter) geo-walk. As we walked I wondered if we might see the Avro Vulcan XH558 which was having its farewell flight today. I've no real interest in the plane myself but everyone else seems keen on it. However I will say that over the last few months this plane seems to have had quite a few farewell flights. Perhaps there are several of them? I don't know.

We got back to the cars just before 5pm. Although we'd had a walk of three halves today, we still walked just over ten miles. And my face was glowing; I'd really caught the sun. We said our goodbyes and made our ways to our various homes. I took a few photos as we walked. Once home I popped them on-line as my killer hound snored.

Downton Abbey's on in a minute...

10 October 2015 (Saturday) - Family Day

Over brekkie I found out that the local council has given a bung of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds towards renovations of a local church. Supposedly the whole community will benefit because brownies meet in the building once a week as does a mother and toddler group. One hundred and twenty thousand pounds... how many people go to church these days? Far better spend the money on building a purpose-built community centre.

In previous years today would have involved a mission to Eastbourne to scoff ourselves silly on ice cream and/or go to the Eastbourne beer festival. A good friend went to that beer festival on Thursday. Perhaps I'm mean, but I feel that a six quid admision charge is just a little bit excessive. Sill, as "er indoors ^TM" says, it keeps the riff-raff out.

Instead we went down to Folkestone. Leaving "er indoors ^TM" still in pyjamas I collected "Cake James" and we were soon in Folkestone. Some of us painted walls, some loaded up the car with more stuff to go into storage. and with the first coat of paint drying we walked up to town for some McLunch and a little bit of shopping. You can't beat McLunch. We came home via a geocache (it had to be done) and a rather good slide.

The second coat of paint went on the wall as I slept, and so did the third.

I'd read that there was an accident blocking the motorway near Ashford. Sat Nav said to take the motorway to junction 9 and come off there. I tried to do that. As I came past it the actual exit at Junction 9 was blocked by a train of foreign lorries. About fifty or so of them; all travelling at about fifty miles per hour; all about six feet from each other. Being unable to get to the slip road I had no choice but to queue in traffic for an hour.

Once home I got the car emptied and put some of the stuff upstairs into storage. Some of it is still in the living room. There is only so much my poor old back can do.

And with "er indoors ^TM" off doing whatever it is that she does (and lacking any better offer) I had a look at the bank accounts (not good, but are they ever?), programmed "Hannah" for tomorrow's geo-mission and fell asleep in front of the telly whilst listening to "nutty next door" shouting.

The daytime was good today, but the evening was a bit dull really...

9 October 2015 (Friday) - Sorting Bullies

Over brekkie I watched the second episode of "You, Me and the Apolcalypse". I'm not sure where the show is going to go, and I'd be intrigued to see what happens if it gets a second series.

I then checked some emails and my piss boiled. Regular readers of this drivel may recall that over the last few months (using geocaches) I organised a guided walk around the Bethersden area. It seems there is a perceived problem on part of that walk.

There is actually two problems, each compounding the other. The first is that the route goes along official footpaths, but one of the farmers doesn't like people using footpaths on his land.

The second is that many people who go out hunting tupperware have taken up this hobby with absolutely no experience of walking in the countryside and do not understand the concept of "official footpath".

One such geocacher has encountered one such farmer this week and apologised humbly to him and has suggested that I've made a mistake in route-planning. Let's be clear about this. Farmers don't like people using official footpaths in the same way that (hypothetically) I don't like people walking down the street in which I live. When a farmer says to someone that he doesn't want people using a given official footpath, if polite platitudes don't placate him, the correct response is "if you don't like it, you can kiss my arse, dogbreath!" People have every right to use official footpaths.

Rant over... I expect I shall have to go out and sort it all out in the next few days....

As I drove to work I found myself behind an MW Sweepers roadsweeper van. This vehicle was proudly bearing signs saying that the general public might follow MW Sweepers on Facebook and Twitter. Why on Earth would anyone wish to follow the exploits af a roadsweeping firm?

I've started following them just to find out what I might be missing.

I got to work, and as a special treat I got myself a lump of flapjack from the League of Fiends (sic) shop. Much as I liked it, it gave me guts ache. And I have a lot of guts to ache...

I then spent most of the rest of the day whinging (to anyone who would listen) about my guts ache.

I also felt rather worn out today. What wit the vagaries of night work and having taken holiday, this is the first time for some months that I have worked five days continuously. I don't like it very much.

Once home I took "Furry Face ^TM" for a walk. As we walked there was one horrible child in the park who was menacing and bullying some smaller children. My dog ran up to this bully and barked at him. He started crying, and his victims then laughed.

Good boy Fudge....

8 October 2015 (Thursday) - Poor Rolo

In theory the Northern Lights were visible from home. In practice it was too cloudy to see anything.

This morning over brekkie I watched a new show I'd recorded. "Bubble Gum" is about a young girl struggling whith life having had it effectively stuffed up by religion. It is a comedy but I recognised several themes from it; having (in retrospect) had by own youth blighted by crackpot religion... if one can call the Methodist church "crackpot".

And talking of my own youthful experiences of religion, as I drove to work the radio was telling the news of Bishop Peter. When I was in my most religious phase in the early 1980s Bishop of Lewis was effectively the chap to whom everyone in the local churches aspired and deferred. In the circles in which I moved at the time there was more than a bit of hero worship about the chap.

In the 1990s it was reported that he'd interfered with a young monk. Yesterday he went to prison for interfering with several young monks and with a child. Whilst the monks were of age (if arguably vunerable), the child on whom he performed indecent acts was only twelve years old.

Whilst that is inexcusable, it actually happened in 1978. On the one hand it made me sit up and think. I was fourteen at the time. I could possibly have been one of his victims. On the other hand I am now fifty-one. Why has this taken so long to come to the attention of the legal process?

As I say, the bishop went to prison yesterday. He's now eighty-three years old. He must serve at least sixteen months of his sentence inside prison and the rest of the sentence will be on probation in the community *if* he survives the time in prison. Like many others I doubt he will.

It is frankly cruel sending a man of his age to prison. if we are going to punish someone for an offence which took place so long ago, then let's just execute him and be done with it. That would be far more humane than the slow death which prison will bring him.

Great issue was made of today being National Poetry Day. Have I ever mentioned that my daughter is a published poet? Back in the days before she and organised secondary education had their final bust-up she won a competition, had a poem published, and met the (at the time) Poet Laureate.

For myself I've often found poetry to be either ridiculous or pretentious. The morning's thought for the Day was in poem form today; I have no idea whether or not it was a good poem as it totally failed to grip my attention.

The morning news also had something which made me sit up and pay attention. The pundits were talking of a revolutionary new blood test which can tell whether or not someone's chest pains are due to a heart attack. It has been suggested that the likes of me start measuring Troponin levels.

I've actually been doing that for years....

Once at work I did some troponin assays, and spent much ot the day thinking and worrying about my smallest grand-dog. Little Rolo was due to go to the vets today for the removal of his "flowers and frolics". Poor little thing. Fortunately for my nerves Cheryl sent me updates throughout the day.

I went home via the Cheapo-Bargains shop to get some tennis balls. I had this idea that we might play "fetch" with my dog on our walk this evening. As we walked I remembered why I gave up playing "fetch" with "Furry Face ^TM". I threw the ball once; he chased the ball then refused to give it up. He carried it for several hundred yards then randomly dropped it. I threw it again for him. He chased after it and carried it again. He then got *very* possessive of his ball when we met other dogs, and then every time I threw it he just chased the ball but didn't pick it up again.

And to add insult to injury the throwing of the ball has upset my tennis elbow...