17 March 2013 (Sunday) - Oxney

Rather a grotty night's sleep what with needing to pop top the loo with annoying regularity. And just as my guts finally settled, "er indoors ^TM" came home at 4am. I eventually nodded off to find that Furry Face had sneaked up from his bed in the kitchen and was on my chest; fast asleep and snoring.

So I gave up trying to sleep and was up and about before 8am. The original plan for the day would have had us up and about on an early start tackling some rather adventurous geocaches. But illness and hangovers had put paid to that idea. So whilst "er indoors ^TM" slept I took Fudge round the block. He was raring to go even if no one else was.

Eventually my beloved emerged from its pit, and together with those who weren't feeling too ill we set off on an afternoon spent relatively locally. We looked for a couple of geocaches in Tenterden, and then had a stroll round some woods on the Isle of Oxney. There were four geocaches in those woods - including a puzzle cache with a real jigsaw puzzle and a letterbox hybrid. Both dogs got absolutely filthy, but both dogs seemed happy so the afternoon had been well spent.

And so home. With "er indoors ^TM" off bowling I sat down with Fudge and put my Babylon 5 DVDs on the telly and promptly fell asleep...

16 March 2013 (Saturday) - Hic!

I do not play poker in the traditional sense. I don't think many professional poker players have a victory dance for when they win a hand. Neither do they have trouble finding space for the cards on the table because of all the food that is in the way. There is no denying that I don't so much "play cards" as "have a feast whilst hoping for a flush". I don't think the Jaffa Cakes sat well with the lime & chocolate sweeties. The marshmallows together with the kettle crisps was (in retrospect) not a good idea. And heaven only knows what I was thinking of by washing the whole lot down with wasabi flavoured peanuts. Consequently my innards were something of a disaster zone this morning.

Talking of disaster zones I spent half an hour attacking the kitchen this morning. "Daddies Little Angel ^TM" made a wonderful bowl of stew last night. She also made quite a bit of carnage whilst she was at it. When we went out last night we left some of the stew in the pan for "er indoors ^TM" who then burned the stew into the pan. So I had my work cut out for me this morning - once I could actually see what I was doing. The starter on the kitchen light had gone west.

Following the revelation that "My Boy ^TM" has started tweeting I dusted off my Twitter account. I can't say I'm at all impressed with Twitter, but I can see what he's up to.

And then we got on with the business of the day. The Bat called, and we made our way to the station where we met up with Steve. We then got a group saver to Folkestone (costing £3.50 each!), and having found the Rear Admiral, we made our way to somewhere where we could have a fry-up.

Once fed we fancied a pint before going on to the main business of the day. With the Pullman not yet open we had a pint in the British Lion. A pint of ale and a pint of raspberry cider. And then a pint in the Guildhall over a game of pool.

Suitably refreshed we braved the monsoon and made our way down to the Leas lift for the beer festival. It would have been nice to have been able to have sat outside and to have had some space. But that wasn't going to happen, so we huddled in with the normal people. There was a dodgy five minutes when the antique door of the building fell off, and the owners weren't happy when I pressed a bell labelled "Do Not Press" (what did they expect?) The beer was good, and we posed for photos; our own and those of various official photographers, before deciding that we'd had an elegant sufficiency. Burp!

We did make notes of the ales as we went, but once home the notes didn't seem to make much sense; comments such as "Oh hello my little love puppy" and "Oh my!" probably made a lot of sense at the time. Still, if you know where to look there are photos of the event on-line.

And so on to the Chambers bar for a crafty half before finding a kebab on the way to the station for the train home. With er indoors ^TM" off on a mission for the evening I dozed in front of the telly for the evening. I've not done a beer festival for some time. I quite miss them...

15 March 2013 (Friday) - Cards

Yesterday I mentioned that Furry Face had got himself wedged into a bramble bush. Last night whilst stroking him he yelped and jumped up for no apparent reason. This morning we pulled a thorn out of his neck. I say "thorn" - "dagger" would be a more appropriate description of what was embedded in his skin.

Still, he has only himself to blame. If he will chase pheasants...

"Daddies Little Angel ^TM" arrived with Sid and once both dogs were fed we took them on a quick trip round the block. Through Stanhope to the environment centre and home via Singleton and Viccie Park. It took us a couple of hours, and the dogs seemed to like it. I braved Fudge off of the lead, and this time (unlike yesterday) he was as good as gold. Mind you it was still rather damp underfoot and once home both dogs got a shower.

As the dogs slept off their exertions me and "Daddies Little Angel ^TM" went to Tesco for various requisites. She then set off on a mission, and I sat down to write. I like writing, and the opportunity had arisen to do some. I like writing; I've found the occasional geocache. I've offered my services to The Geocache Tourist blog, and they seemed happy with what I spent the afternoon writing.

Let's hope this is the beginning of a happy association.

"Daddies Little Angel ^TM" then came home and turned the shopping we'd bought earlier into stew for tea. Very tasty! And with the arrival of the Rear Admiral, Martin and the first fruit of my loin we set off to Queen Street. Ten of us sat down for a game of cards. I haven't played poker for absolutely ages. I really should play more often. Even if I am always the first one to be knocked out...

14 March 2013 (Thursday) - Mersham

I was woken this morning by my nose being licked. Furry Face had made his way upstairs. Cheeky pup!. After a quick bit of brekkie I got some bits and pieces together and ably (!) assisted by my dog I set off on a geocaching-related mission.

A few days ago someone had mentioned that they couldn't find one of my duck caches. I have set two of these - easy to find, not so easy to retrieve. they are tethered rubber ducks floating in rivers. Someone had said on the Facebook Kent Geocaching group that she couldn't find one of them. I'd explained that the thing should be immediately obvious. She'd said she couldn't see it. So we walked along the river and, sure enough the duck was where it was supposed to be. Floating in the middle of the river.

We then carried on across a ploughed field. And I let Furry Face off of his lead. As we walked we saw snowdrifts. I've blogged this week about how local the recent snow has been, and how I saw very little of it. As we walked today we found snowdrifts. Some a metre deep - and only an hour's walk from home. Fudge seemed to like the snow - he was jumping in and out of the drifts. He was fine being off the lead for quite some time, and suddenly he saw a pheasant. He doesn't like "F-birds" and he set off in pursuit. He saw this bird just as I was about to put him back on the lead as we were getting near some woods. It's always a bad idea letting him off the lead near woods. He shot into the woods, and that was it. By the time I'd got to the woods he had vanished. I could neither hear nor see him. I tried the whistle, I tried shouting for him. Nothing worked. All I could do was search.

After half an hour I thought I could hear a jangling sound. I could - it was coming from a bramble bush. I called Fudge's name and the jangling got louder. The idiot dog had got tangled in brambles and was completely stuck fast. By the time I'd untangled him and got him on the lead I'd completely lost my bearings. Using "follow the arrow" sat-nav I ploughed a straight line through the jungle to the nearest road. Carrying a very sheepish-looking small dog.

I found a rather scenic bridge over a small river. I might go back there with a rubber dingy and hide a cache under it at some point. Soon we were at Sevington, and we were able to start our walk properly. there were a couple of geocaches in Sevington, and half a dozen in Mersham a couple of miles away. I had this plan to put a couple of lines of caches from Sevington to Mersham and back again to make a little series of caches.

And I (and my dog) did just that. It was a bit cold today, and jsut a bit muddy. But it was a bright day and we had a good walk out. By the time we got home we'd been out for over four hours.

Furry Face went straight into the bath. He was filthy, with mud literally up to his ears. Once he was hosed off he settled down and was soon asleep. I checked emails and was fiddling about on-line when the first fruit of my loin came home. He was immediately on my case asking what I'd done to his dog because his dog was obviously knackered. I don't think he approves of my walking Fudge quite as much as I walk him.

After the dog had had a bit of a rest I took him for another walk. I had a plan to see the comet. I've made it known that I don't expect the current talk of a comet to come to anything. The pundits had predicted a bright comet. Now it seems the best we can hope for is something that you might (just possibly) be able to see for half an hour in the twilight. If you have binoculars, know exactly where to look, and if you are very lucky.

We weren't lucky - there was too much cloud cover. So we came home. As we approached home we could hear raised voices. A car and a bus were both refusing to give way, and traffic had built up behind both. Several drivers had got out of their cars and were shouting abuse at anyone they felt needed to be abused. There is never anything as amusing as someone else's petty squabble.

We settled down with a bottle of plonk, some port and cheese and watched "Forrest Gump". For all that he film is a classic, I'd never seen it before. It was really good. I wonder how mnay other things like this I've missed...

13 March 2013 (Wednesday) - A New Pope

"Daddies Little Angel ^TM" arrived shortly after brekkie, and we took both dogs for a walk. For the last two days the south east has been in the grip of blizzards and sonw storms. Today was bright sunshine. We had a good walk along the river to South Willesborough and back through Frog's Island. We came back past the Shetland ponies; the word was that these small horses had got loose in the night. They seemed secure in their field, but there was no denying that there was fresh horse dung on the wrong side of the fence.

It would have been good to have walked further, but "Daddies Little Angel ^TM" was suffering. She's picked up a virus, and so we came home for a warming cuppa. I then spent a little time on the PC. A colleague has recently obtained some very old photographs of her home village in Nigeria and I'd offered to scan them into .jpegs for her. She seemed inordinately grateful when I volunteered a day or so ago. I was only too happy to help. It was easy enough, and was something I could do.

A quick sandwich for lunch and after bandying insults with the Rear Admiral (who had visited) I went to the dentist to get my chipped tooth fixed. As I walked so a hailstorm struck. It didn' last long, but it was vicious for the few minutes that it lasted.

My gob was fixed in less than five minutes and I then spent some time taking up the legs on a pair of trousers: a job I'd been putting off for months. I then did some ironing because no day off is complete without ironing.

And then I got an email. And my piss boiled just a little bit. Regular readers of this drivel might recall that over the last couple of months I'd ranted about how the organisers needed to confirm the event before people could commit to going. In the meantime many of the usual attendees made their own plans, and clearly hardly anyone was going to be along. So I decided to follow suit. With what seemed to be no apparent commitment from the organisers I set about making my own entertainment for that weekend. Today, months too late, an email came through "A decision was reached ... not to fund the June event at Teston.... after presentation of the costings and other factors were taken into consideration".

In retrospect the problem was that two particular people were claiming to be speaking on behalf of the organisers when in fact they were not. However the August event is still on the cards, and I've offered any and all help I can give to the thing.

With June Teston definitely not going ahead I am thinking that Folkestone air show might be a good day out.

Meanwhile we have a new Pope - the Argentinian Francis I. He's seventy-six years old. At the risk of appearing age-ist, is that a good age at which to take on such a demanding job? Still, time will tell. It always does.

I've been quite interested in the recent papal resignation and the appointment of the successor. In the past I've been rather noisy about my agnosticism. Now I'm not quite so sure. I'm (just possibly) beginning to see the logic in Pascal's wager...

12 March 2013 (Tuesday) - Stuff

Over breakfast I read all the horror stories on Facebook about the terrible journeys people had last night on their way home. Trips which should have taken an hour at most had taken over six hours. Folkestone and Dover had been effectively been cut off from the rest of the world, and relatives only thirty miles away in Sussex had spent the night in their cars.

I left for work early, expecting the worst. I found my journey was fine - no delays at all. I arrived at work to find that I was lucky to have been able to get there. Others had not had such an easy journey. Dover was still cut off and traffic heading south on the M20 had come to a standstill. Snow can be so local.

People arrived as the morning went on, and we all did our bit before braving the elements on the way home. It looked to me as though most of the elements had melted, and wouldn't need much braving. But I didn't like to say anything.

As I drove home I listened to the radio as always. And my piss boiled, as it is wont to do. The weather forecast as delivered by BBC Radio 4 bore no relation to either the weather forecast as delivered by the BBC's own weather website, or to reality.

Here's an interesting question: it is acceptable to photograph your food when dining out? Apparently some restaurants are banning people photographing their dinner. I've often taken snapshots of what I'm scoffing - for blogging purposes as much as any other reason. Why don't establishments want their produce photographed? Are they afraid of bad publicity? I don't think I'd like to eat somewhere where I couldn't photograph my scoff.

Also on the news was the results of the recent ballot that took place in the Falkland Islands. The locals were asked if they wished to remain a British territory. 99.8% of them said that they did. Hardly surprising really, bearing in mind the threat of Argentinian invasion. Was that really thirty years ago? I can remember having a "Falk Off Argentina" T shirt. I probably still have it somewhere. And having lost some weight it would probably fit me again.

Talking of voting, the cardinals are all casting their ballots for another Pope. Here's a radical suggestion - I wonder if they might change the office in the same way they did that of the office of Poet Laureate so that the office is held for a fixed term, rather than for life. After all being the leading figure of a world wide organisation must be hard work, and does it really make sense to give the position to someone who's (usually) well over retirement age when they take up office.

After all, in China where it's traditionally often a gerontocracy the bosses are all dyeing their hair in an attempt to appear young.

I don't mind the late shifts, but I don't like missing the Tuesday gathering...

11 March 2013 (Monday) - Snow

On re-reading yesterday's rant it would seem I didn't have a good day of it. I think I've just about had enough of this winter. We had one good sunny warm day last week, and then it was back to freezing conditions.

I'm sick of my nose constantly running because of the cold, and of not being able to feel my extremities.

I had something of a late night last night - not turning in until midnight. I slept soundly, waking feeling fully refreshed. I looked at the clock. It was 1.20 am. Eighty minutes sleep! And I saw every hour of the night from then on, finally getting up (feeling like death warmed over) at 7am.

As I drove to work I listened to the radio. There is consternation about how bacteria are developing resistance to antibiotics. There is shock news that diseases which were once easily treatable may well soon be life threatening.

How is this "news"? This was certainly common knowledge back in the early 1980s. I can remember seeing posters about it before I moved away from Hastings; and that was in 1984. How can such an old story be treated so sensationally?

There was also uproar about the proposed bedroom tax in which council tax will be based on the amount of bedrooms a house has. Apparently there are plans to extend this tax to sting houses which have a dining room separate from a kitchen or lounge.

The radio presenter brought on some very silly people to discuss the matter. Apparently such a tax would be bad as it would discourage people from having formal family meals together. Again how is this news? Family meals were a thing of the past some fifteen years ago.

I found this out back when I was a cub scout leader. Before any camp we would have to tell the parents to actually have a sit-down family meal to teach the little brats table manners. And over the years I had quite a few mothers approach me to ask exactly what did I mean by "table manners" as they themselves had no idea of the concept. In my thirteen years experience as a cub scout leader having taken hundreds of children camping, not one child in twenty could actually sit at a table to eat with a knife and fork. Interestingly it was always my experience that (with very few exceptions) the more well-to-do the family, the more feral the child's eating habits. I distinctly remember one extremely well spoken boy named Guy (with millionaire parents) who was utterly incapable of eating any item of food which had not first been thrown through the air.

I stopped off at Pets at Home on my way to work today. Several of the tins in the last batch of dog food I'd got from them were dented - one tin was actually broken open. I took this burst tin to the lady on the till and whinged. This lady called the manager who was really helpful, and she gave me twenty per cent off of my next bulk load of dog food. I was pleased about that! So I squandered my saving on a rope tug o'war toy. He seems to like playing pulling on things. If I can get him on one end and Sid on the other then the two dogs will keep each other amused for hours.

And as I still had a few minutes free I then popped to the cheapo shop next door. They do five curly-wurlies for a quid. Five! That was me sorted for a bargain.

And so to work. I did my bit. I didn't like not being out and about today, but I did like not being cold. Yesterday was really cold. Today was worse. And it snowed today. I've heard that the closest parts of France are expecting a foot of snow.

I've had enough of this cold weather now. Thank heavens for my curly-wurly on the way home or I would have been seriously sulking...