7 August 2023 (Monday) - The Slidge

I suppose I slept well. Had I not had a nightmare in which lavatories were (by law) no longer available to anyone but regular churchgoers I might have slept a whole lot better though.

Over brekkie I had my usual trawl of the Internet. I had a wry smile at some chap posting to the local geocaching page suggesting that everyone else might put out themed geocaches about pubs. Geocaching, like every other hobby I’ve ever followed, is rife with people saying “why don’t you do…”, but you rarely see “why don’t we do…” and almost never see “I’ve just done…”.

This morning’s petty squabble was on one of the Facebook groups about the villages round Hastings. Several people claimed to have lived in “Staple Cross” as opposed to “Staplecross”, and others were putting them right. I suppose it *is* possible to get more petty, but it would take some doing.

 

I took the dogs out. Usually Orlestone Woods is our go-to place but when it is wet it is a swamp. So with the rain we’ve had recently I decided to take no chances. As we drove up to Kings Wood the pundits on the radio were giving out a suggested reading list for children on their school holidays.

Back in the day when I was on summer holidays I would walk out the front door shortly after eight o’clock each morning, and together with a gaggle of mates not come back for twelve hours. We would go to Fairlight sand quarry, the beach, the swimming pool… and never come to any harm. However kids these days dare not leave the house for fear of being murdered on the doorstep (but that’s a rant for another time…).

Pretty much all of the children’s reading being suggested was actually by non-English authors, and one of the suggestions for teenagers was the collected fairy tales of the brothers Grimm. It was claimed that the Disney and Pixar films have tamed these books down a *lot*, and that the original books are rather gritty.

I’m tempted to give them a go.

 

We got to the woods and did one of our “standard” walks. A shade under two miles; we walked it in forty-five minutes. I had a little tear as I remembered my Fudge pootling round at his own pace taking nearly an hour and a half to do the same distance, with me regularly putting him back on the lead to stop him wandering off on his own little missions.

As we walked we met two other groups of dogs. Treacle walked straight past ignoring them; Morgan and Bailey had a little sniff but came away when called.

 

We came home via the petrol station as the car was getting low on the stuff. I had hoped to eke it out until tomorrow night when I will be in Aylesford where the petrol is a *lot* cheaper but I’d rather spend out a little than conk out half-way between the -hursts and the -dens.

We had a cuppa and some cake, and then I set off through the -hursts and the -dens. I set off to work with every intention of checking on a geocache of mine near Goudhurst that someone couldn't find recently, and of going looking for one near Pembury. But I found so many sets of road works, then found myself stuck behind some steam-powered tractor thing (bearing a sign saying "slow moving - steam powered!). And there was the usual arrogance in Goudhurst where despite the road being incredibly narrow, no one is prepared to give any way. The journey which took just over an hour yesterday took just under two hours this morning.

 

I stopped off at Tesco in Pembury though  - I needed a sandwich, and got one or two other bits and bobs too. As I queued the chap in the queue in front of me was ranting at the woman behind the till about what a load of crap Tesco store cards are. He asked my opinion. I winked at the woman on the till, and invited him to watch and see what a piss-poor deal I got with the thing. The chap watched my stuff getting scanned, made a note of the total, and his face was a picture as I scanned my Tesco clubcard and the till knocked a full ten per cent off the price of what I was buying.

He wasn't happy about that...

 

Work was rather busy; far busier than yesterday had been. Far busier than I would have liked. And the journey home was problematical too…

 

And in other news, “Daddy’s Little Angel ^TM” tells me that “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction ^TM” has created the architectural masterpiece of the age; the Slidge. It is a combination of a slide and a bridge and combines the fun and benefits of both. Sadly it doesn't actually work, but in our world that is just a piddling detail.

6 August 2023 (Sunday) - Early Shift

As I got up (far too early) so both Morgan and Bailey moved into the warm spot in the bed that I'd just vacated. I made toast, watched an episode of "Shameless", then set off to work through a rather bright morning.

As I drove I listened to the radio. There was some drivel about how some young woman has bought a tumbledown farm and is trying to run the place on horse power. She was being interviewed from the middle of a field of stallions and whilst horses can drag ploughs about, this woman was far more keen to tell the world that she had a three-year-old son than she was to explain how a field of horses might generate enough (or any) electricity to run the house she was planning to rebuild.

Mind you she admitted that water was pouring through the roof whenever it rained, so maybe getting leccie into it was perhaps a tad daft right now.It soon became clear that this woman clearly had money to burn to be taking on a derelict farm and trying to restore it, and rather than getting annoyed (again) at people with more money than sense I turned over to my MP3 player and sang along to "Ivor Biggun" songs as I drove to Tunbridge Wells. 

Driving wasn't easy today; there was a rather expensive looking sports car being chased by a couple of old minis which would all fly past me at breakneck speeds, then presumably then took detours down country lanes to get behind me only to come flying past again.

I could have squealed them to the Old Bill; but the Old Bill won't do anything about the road racing that goes on along the bypass by the outlet centre in Ashford, so I doubt they'd want to go out to Sissinghurst or Goudhurst.

 I stopped off in Goudhurst for a Skyland and a QrewZee (as Munzee-ers are wont to do), then carried on to work. I'd not wanted to work today; I seem to work so many weekend days. In between doing my thing I kept looking out the window at a rather glorious day.

Ironically as I drove home so the bright skies in Tunbridge Wells got darker as I headed east. I abandoned my plans to take the dogs to the woods as by the time I’d got to Ashford the sky was black. I had just enough time to feed the pond fish before the rain started. According to the forecast it should stop soon.

It rained a lot yesterday too…but here’s a thought. From the late 90s till the early 2010s we used to go camping several times a year over weekends from June to the August Bank Holiday. Every year the weather was far better earlier than it ever was later. August was often a washout… and still is.

 

5 August 2023 (Saturday) - Lazy Rainy Day

Every morning I have a look at the Internet as I scoff toast. I hope to see what friends are doing (because I am incredibly nosey) but more and more the Internet is just one big argument. Today was no exception.

 

Despite the rain showers we got ourselves together and set off to Dog Club. I’d volunteered to take along the poo bag; a trivial and small job but it is something I can do. The rain held off, and the dogs had a great time chasing and playing. Morgan got very over-excited (as he does) and had a time-out. He’s funny – when you tell him “time out!” he comes over looking very shame-faced and has his time-out. Bailey was generally in the thick of things. And Treacle tolerated the other dogs (mostly). We met a beautiful tiny Labrador puppy; we met Mika, Eric, Percy, a couple of Milos and all our friends. It’s funny but I know most of the dogs’ names, but very few of the people’s names.

There was a minor episode right at the end when we found a tick on Treacle’s head. The tick removal tool wasn’t any use at all, so we came home and I got it off with a pair of tweezers. As we drove home Steve was doing the mystery year on the radio… 1978. I got that from the clue about the release of “Evita” (the musical) which for no reason that I can explain I associate with the country walks I used to do at school one afternoon each week rather than take part in any organized games.

 

With the rain getting worse there wasn’t much to be done today. “er indoors ^TM” had a voucher for a free dinner from certain pubs (a birthday pressie from Shepherd Neame). One of them was in Tenterdan, so we had this idea to go hunt out the Adventure Lab geo-series which follows the Kent and East Sussex railway from Bodiam up to Tenterden before having dinner.

We settled the dogs and drove through the rain to Tenterden via Bodiam and all the stations of the K&ESR before popping in to The Vine in Tenterden for dinner. The Vine was surprisingly busy; I must admit I thought the service was a tad slow, but the food was very good. We’ve been there before – must go back again mid-week when they aren’t so busy.

 

We came home through the rain. The dogs weren’t keen on going out for a tiddle, but out they went. Some tiddled, one didn’t. And with the rain showing no sign of letting up I settled on the sofa (underneath the dogs) and watched several episodes of “Four in a Bed”. As usual those running the worst Bed and Breakfasts were the most critical. I love that show – it is so funny watching the opinionated finding fault with others doing a far better job than they are.

 

Having had a rather good bit of dinner earlier we just had some nachos and dips for tea. As we grazed we watched another episode of the new series of “Quantum Leap”. That show is rather good.

 

We had a rather lazy day today. For the first time in weeks (if not months) my step count was under five thousand. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t hit my step goal of six thousand.

I’m a tad concerned that Morgan hasn’t tiddled for eleven hours. I’ve taken him out several times but he hates the rain and stands on the door step wanting to come back in. Short of giving him a good squeeze I’m not sure how to get him to empty out.

4 August 2023 (Friday) - Early Shift

 

I woke feeling full of energy and raring to go... at twenty to two. I then dozed on and off and eventually gave up trying to sleep, made toast and watched an episode of "Shameless" before setting off to work. Again (like last week) the bin men were being rather considerate and weren't deliberately blocking the road. What's going on there?

 

As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how the electronic giants have got the arse as the average punter isn't trading in their old mobile phone at the earliest opportunity any more. The average punter has realised the folly in shelling out for a new phone whilst the old one is still perfectly good. And consequently the electronic giants aren't getting quite so much easy money.

And the High Street favourite Wilco (so it was claimed) is going tits up. The chap being interviewed on the radio summed up Wilco when he said that their business model was to fill the gap in the market left by Woolworths when they went belly up. Do you remember Woolworths? Did anyone ever go to Woolies as their first choice when buying anything? Woolies sold everything, but nothing of any quality. Woolies was the last place you went to for anything; usually out of a sense of desperation. Not really a sound business model, was it?

 

I got to work (via several Tree Houses - it's a Munzee thing) in time for the early shift, but the boss asked if I might stay for an extra couple of hours. On the one hand I wasn't keen. On the other hand I didn't really mind. Had I come home I would just have walked the dogs through the swamp that is Orlestone Woods, and getting filthy is something I've done enough over the last few days.

 

I came home a couple of hours later than I might have done. “er indoors ^TM” boiled up fish and hash browns (we’d run out of chips!) which we scoffed whilst watching the most recent episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”. It was rather good. I spotted half a dozen little throwaway comments linking to the original series; there’s plenty of continuity there if you pay attention.

It’s a shame that one of the leading characters is going to die. I won’t say which one though, but it ain’t the captain…

3 August 2023 (Thursday) - Rostered Day Off

 

Treacle woke me when she jumped of the bed this morning. I chased after her, but I wasn’t quick enough and she was sick on the landing. She’s been eating grass for a day or so; if this continues it will be a trip to the vet.

I made toast and had a look at Facebook. People who’d clearly never watched episodes of the original “Star Trek” were quibbling about petty details of the program. People who spend fortunes making models of daleks were finding the most trivial faults in each other’s efforts… all safe in the knowledge that they would never have to actually meet whoever it was they were being nasty to, with and about.

I also discovered that this weekend is the Mega-geocaching event of the year. The country’s biggest meet-up of hunters of Tupperware… I’ve said before that geocaching is very much a closely guarded secret. Had I known I probably wouldn’t have gone… but it would have been good to have had the opportunity.

 

I drove the dogs up to Kings Wood. Someone had said that they couldn’t find one of my geocaches up there. We walked a mile into the woods to where I hid the thing last winter and I found it right away.

As we walked the dogs chased a squirrel and were utterly oblivious to the deer that was watching them. Treacle waded belly-deep in a swamp (again). Bailey rolled in fox poo (again) and then ate it.

We came home for a serious scrub in the bath with copious amounts of hypoallergenic dog soap; Bailey gets rashes. She can eat fox poo, roll in fox poo and rancid swamps, but the wrong soap gives her a rash. Dogs, eh?

 

With dogs scrubbed I popped to the corner shop for pastries; taking a circuitous route via a few local Greenies. Today was the start of this month’s Munzee Clan War and I needed two Qrates (it’s a Munzee thing).

Just as I got my second Qrate a rather foxy-looking woman asked me it I’d ever wondered why there was so much suffering in the world. Seeing a rather foxy-looking woman and her rather foxy-looking chum both carrying Jehovah’s Witness pamphlets I thought I might have a reasoned conversation with them.

Or that was my initial plan.

I told them that I had often wondered why there was so much suffering in the world, but for me the burning issue wasn’t why there was so much suffering; the question was why their God allowed it. They blathered some platitudes in a lame attempt to make excuses for their God and asked if I agreed. I said I didn’t. I said  that all the evidence of my experience and of human history gives three possible reasons why their God allows the suffering. Either it is indifferent to humanity’s suffering (or actually enjoys it). Or it is unable to do anything about it. Or it isn’t actually there. The foxy mate then suggested that we turn to scripture. I suggested we didn’t because (as they reluctantly agreed) pretty much every bible verse is contradicted by another. By this point I felt a bit sorry for them, and I threw them a bone. I said that of course there is one subject on which their Bible was quite consistent. They smiled at that, but their faces fell when I pointed out that it was homosexuality. In their efforts to be inclusive they didn’t realise that being on the other bus was a big no-no in the Bible. Mind you (as I told them) many of my family and friends “bat for the other side” and that should “er indoors ^TM” croak I would happily play pork swordfights if my protagonist would feed me on a regular basis.

They tried to get away from me saying that they would pray for me. I told them that prayer was dangerous… Not only is asking for something in a prayer finding fault with the creator of the universe’s plan, it is also being bold enough to suggest improvements.

That hadn’t occurred to them.

I remarked that I was once a committed Christian (I was once a Steward in the Methodist Church and used to spout some right religious bollox) and that I’ve since found that thinking for myself is a liberating experience.

 

After that I deserved a cuppa and a pastry. And suitably refreshed I spent some time in the garden. Lawns don’t mow themselves, you know. I like to keep the lawn short, not so much because it looks better as with a short lawn I can see dog dung so much easier. And then I spent a little while farting about with the floating planters in the pond. I’m not sure that this water cress has been the success it might have been.

I then dozed in front of the telly watching episodes of “Shameless”

 

“er indoors ^TM” boiled up a very good bit of dinner which we scoffed watching a rather gritty episode of “Star Trek: Strange New Worlds”. We washed dinner down with a bottle of Cava. The plonk was something of a disappointment.

2 August 2023 (Wednesday) - Before Another Late Shift

 

I slept like a log again. On waking I made “er indoors ^TM” a cuppa and took it up to her together with a small wodge of cards and pressies (as it’s her birthday today). We had a little opening ceremony then I did myself a cuppa and looked at the Internet (as I do). There wasn’t much going on really, so I had a little look at cruises (as this would seem to be my current obsession). Yesterday I found a round-the-world cruise – just over three months for ten thousand quid. Today I found a trip to Longyearbyen (somewhere I quite fancy going) and back – two weeks for fifteen thousand quid… once you’ve made your own way to Oslo.

 

Bearing in mind rain was forecast for later I took the dogs up to the woods. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about Donald Trump, and were interviewing someone or other who is one of his political opponents. Facing yet another indictment is no handicap to Mr Trump; the chap being interviewed openly admitted that no matter what he says himself, the average American voter loves Donald Trump. Mr Trump really can do no wrong in the eyes of the American electorate. In fifty years’ time generations yet unborn will wonder “WTF were they thinking of”, but this is the thing with charismatic leaders, isn’t it? The masses love them regardless of what they do. It has happened many times in history and will doubtless happen again.

(Not that I’m likening Mr Trump to any of these in any other way than charisma)

 

We got to the woods and set off to the location of one of my geocaches. Someone had complained that it was on an ants’ nest. I’d not put it on an ants’ nest, but someone or other had decided that being on an ants’ nest several yards from where it was supposed to be was a far better hiding place…

I put it right, and we carried on with our walk. We had drizzle, we had rain, we had glorious sunshine. And we waded in a swamp.

 

We then came home and had a bath, and I spent a few minutes plunging the plug hole. I’ve got this theory that years of mud (from dogs) have accumulated down the plug hole, and with us having showers (and not baths) there’s never a head of water to flush the mud through. But a good plunging seemed to do the trick.

I got us some pastries, I looked at more cruise holiday, and then set off to work.

And again the best bit of the day was over and done with by the mid-morning.

 

1 August 2023 (Tuesday) - Before the Late Shift

I slept well and finally woke after a nightmare in which “er indoors ^TM” had decided that cactuses would make good pond plants.

I made toast and had my usual trawl through the Internet. Knowing that several friends had birthdays today I was ready to post out birthday wishes… no one had a birthday today. What had I been thinking? There was quite a bit on pride in Yorkshire and Scotland evident on my Facebook feed this morning. I can never work out why so many Scots and Yorkshiremen are *so* proud of their homeland but choose to live in Kent.

Mind you I did smile at the story I read of the (ex-) Kentish man who persuaded Thurrock council to invest tens of millions of their money in his business… Well, not so much “invest” as “hand over”. The chap bought a private jet (among other things) out of the money he ripped off from the council. He’s now living the high life abroad whilst the council is effectively bankrupt. Democracy, eh? Rather than electing the sort of person who stands for local council, why don’t we as a “democracy” appoint people who aren’t quite so gullible to run things?

 

I drove the dogs up to Kings Wood. Bearing in mind the amount of rain we’ve had recently I thought the paths there might be less mucky than at Orlestone.

They were.

Kings Wood isn’t *that* much further away than Orlestone really. And when the roads are clear it doesn’t take much longer to get there. We had a good walk; we only met one other dog walker – I say “walker”; the chap was running. The pups tried to join in with his run but they soon came back to the sound of the whistle. When it works, whistle training is rather impressive to watch.

We also tried “posing for the camera” again; it is still very much a work in progress.

 

With walk walked we had a cuppa (and pastries) and I spent a little time looking at my latest obsession that will never happen - a world cruise. Take this one for example – a hundred days away. It works out at a hundred quid a day which ain’t bad I suppose, but for all that it is a “world cruise”, only twenty-nine of the days involve doing any touristy-stuff. Seventy-one days are spent on the boat sailing. I’d go stir-crazy.

“er indoors ^TM” has found a cruise going from Dover to the Isles of Scilly (via Guernsey) and back over a week. That might do for next summer if we can find a dog-sitter.

 

And then I went to work for the late shift. I’d rather do an early given a choice… shame that I wasn’t…