25 February 2019 (Monday) - A Day's Fishing

Yesterday evening as we scoffed curry I posted a piccie of us all to Facebook. This morning I saw that an amazing amount of people had clicked the “like” button. They wouldn’t have clicked the “like” button if they had my guts this morning. They had kept me awake for much of the night. In fact the only sleep I did get was somewhat wasted on a rather vivid dream in which I was leading an expedition of several coaches of rather argumentative “Sparks” fans to a Laurel and Hardy convention. Something which (I must admit) I have never before considered doing, and probably never will. (then again…)

I made myself a cuppa, did a little CPD, posted out some birthday wishes, and then got myself ready for the off. I didn’t wrap up anywhere near as much as I did when fishing this time last year, and soon I had collected "My Boy ^TM". Bearing in mind that we wanted to be waiting when Hartley Lands fishery opened at seven o’clock, McDonalds was the only place open for brekkie at six o’clock. We arrived to find a large fox standing outside. He wasn’t particularly bothered by us; he was waiting for his brekkie too. A nice lady came out and gave him a freshly cooked hash brown. He liked that.

With brekkie scoffed we left McDonalds. As we drove out, the fox was patrolling the car park obviously hoping for scraps.

We got to Hartley Lands fishery at seven o’clock to find it locked. The nice man arrived to open the gate three minutes later.

As we walked into the place we were rather shocked to find several baited hooks just laying around the lakeside. Any animal or bird could have taken the baits and got into all sorts of problems. We tidied it all up as best we could and gave the lot to the bailiff. I told him exactly where we’d found it all (swim 11) and suggested he posted on their Facebook page that some lost property had been found there this morning and see if whoever was fishing there yesterday gets in touch. The bailiff said that he would, and said that anyone who got in touch would get a photo of the mess they’d left and a ban from the place. Harsh? Not really. Is it *really* unreasonable to expect people not to leave baited hooks laying around? I tidy up after myself.

The nice bailiff then sold me an O.A.P. day ticket. I was rather pleased about that. They are cheaper then the usual adult price.

Soon we were fishing. I say “fishing”; we were doing all the things we usually do when at the lakes, but the fish weren’t having it. We tried every way of fishing with every bait we had, and we even moved half way round the lake to try the other end.

In the end I caught twice as many fish as the first fruit of my loin, but that wasn’t saying much. Looking back, the trouble was that although today was like a summer’s day, it is still winter. The water is still cold.

We didn’t catch *that* much today, but it was a good trial run for my new chair, rod and reel. I took a few photos; Hartley Lands fishery is a pretty place to spend the day. And I did catch the sun.

We packed up an hour earlier than planned. Once home I walked the dogs round the block. It was hard work.

"er indoors ^TM" was off out to her bowling league pub meal this evening. Before she went out she boiled me up a pizza. That was good of her – if she hadn’t, my dinner would have been toast.

As I scoffed pizza I watched the film of “The Young Offenders”. It was rather entertaining…

 

24 February 2019 (Sunday) - Curry Night

I slept like a log. I did wake up feeling rather breathless at five o’clock, so I got up, emptied the dishwasher and had a shave, and went back to sleep for another three hours. I got up and had a quiet few minutes looking at the Internet.

There was an interesting discussion on one of the groups I follow. “Galactic Hitch-hikers” is *supposed* to be a Facebook group about the woks of the late Douglas Adams. I say “discussion”; it was more of a petty squabble. Supporters of Donald Trump posting on that group were asking about the cost of health care in the UK. From what I can work out, people in the UK and the US individually pay *about* the same in taxes (perhaps a little less in the USA), but no one in the UK has to sell their house or go crowd-funding to pay for medical bills.

I made the mistake of saying so.

Most of the UK-based people in the group agreed with me, but some of the Americans took offence. The trouble is that many Americans find the entire concept of the National Health Service to be (as has been described to me several times) “commie-pinko”. To the American mind the idea of anything being provided through tax is abhorrent. There is far more merit in paying for things when needed rather than through regular payments (for some inexplicable reason). I can remember talking with an American scout leader who told me that their scouts paid for each badge when awarded. When I explained ours were funded from a weekly subscription she was horrified.

I also saw that a new geocache had gone live two miles south. I considered charging after a First to Find until I realised it was two miles south of work (not home) and consequently actually seventeen miles north.

And then peace was shattered when "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction ^TM" came downstairs with Treacle and Pogo (who have become his devoted attendants). He sang his song about bumholes and refused to eat his breakfast. It was difficult to determine which wound his grand-mother up the most.

Eventually we got ourselves organised and took the dogs up the park. We had a mostly good walk up as far as the dog beach. I made a little You-Tube video up to that point. And then for no explicable reason "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction ^TM" went totally hysterical and screamed pretty much the entire way home. Once home the hysteria passed, and he was fine. What on Earth was all that about? I suspect *if* he wasn’t wearing such a thick coat on a warm day and *if* he’d eaten a single meal whilst he’d been with us, things might have been different.

We took "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction ^TM" back to Margate; I slept all of the way. Once in Margate we spent a few minutes with "Daddy’s Little Angel ^TM" before heading off to Herne Bay. Geocaching dot com had sent me an email telling me about one of the best geocaches in South East England being there. We drove over and found a rather average sandwich box. Admittedly the hide was rather good, but I’ve seen it done better. There was supposed to be a trackable in the cache; there wasn’t. The thing was in someone’s garden but no mention was made of the fact. The chap who hid it gave up on the game two years ago… OK – I’m being picky, but geo-HQ had taken the trouble to point this one out to me.

Mind you on the plus side I did get to give my new geo-app a trial run and it worked rather well.

We went round to see "My Boy ^TM" for the evening. Some fathers visit their sons out of a sense of paternal devotion or familial love. I went round to get my birthday pressie and because I’d been promised dinner.

I got a rather good fishing rod (which I shall put to the test tomorrow), and we scoffed far too much curry. Having stuffed myself to the point where I could barely move I collapsed on the sofa and we watched telly until I could get up again.

I’ve loaded up the car, I’ve set the alarm… I’m hoping for great things from tomorrow’s fishing trip… 

23 February 2019 (Saturday) - Whitstable

I slept better than I did last night. With "er indoors ^TM" and the dogs up in the attic room with "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction ^TM" I *wasn’t* trampled all night long. Mind you I was still wide awake about two hours earlier than I would have liked. Being wide awake I got up and watched the fourth episode of “The Umbrella Academy”. It’s not too bad – with only ten episodes I shall probably stick with it.

I then had a look-see at Facebook as I do most mornings. I had yet another friend request from someone I don’t know but in a novel break with tradition this wasn’t some odd-looking bloke in a dress who was advertising pornography. This was a Welsh New-Age hippie-loonie-type. I didn’t accept him on to my list. I’m actually rather choosy about who I have on my on-line list of friends.

I also had a few messages about some of the geocaches that I’ve hidden. There is often an arrogance in those who hunt Tupperware in that quite a few of them seem to feel that if they cannot find a certain magnetic pot stuck to a road sign then it isn’t there. God forbid that their sat-nav might be less than utterly perfect in every respect.  I was told this morning that the co-ordinates that I had provided for a certain hide were wildly out and were pointing into someone’s house. It clearly never occurred to the person telling me this that over a hundred other people had no problem with the co-ordinates that I had given.

Similarly I was told about a failing in a Wherigo cartridge making the thing unusable even though sixty other people hadn’t had a problem. And a Suduko puzzle that I had set which wasn’t giving the right answer even though fifty other people had managed it.

With "er indoors ^TM" showing no sign of stirring I went and moved her car for her. She’d left it round the corner where there are parking restriction after eight o’clock. I don’t like driving her car; it feels rather awkward to me.

"er indoors ^TM" had arranged to take "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction ^TM" off visiting relatives today. That was more than my nerves could take, so I took Fudge out with me for a little adventure. We drove toward Whitstable where we’d arranged to meet Karl, Tracey and Charlotte. As we drove along the M2 I realised the people in the car in front were waving at me. It was Karl, Tracey and Charlotte. I had no idea that it was them in the car in front. When I drive, to me all cars are just “cars” – I never notice who is in them.

We parked up at the end of the Crab and Winkle way (totally oblivious to the fact that there was a new geocache within a minute of where we were) and went for a little walk. Up the Crab and Winkle way to Clowes Wood, round the wood and back along the Crab and Winkle way into Whitstable. Through the back streets to the sea front, along the sea front to Seasalter, and then back to where we’d parked.

As we walked up the Crab and Winkle way we met several cyclists. Most were friendly enough. One was rather miffed when Fudge nearly ran under his front wheels. Words were exchanged. Some cyclists can be rather brave when they can zoom off at high speeds.

We also found an old tennis ball which kept Fudge entertained. He actually ran after it rather than just trying to eat it., but he did run through quite a bit of mud with the ball.

The plan had been to eat in the Old Neptune on the sea front, but time was running away. We were all feeling a tad peckish and realising that it was well past mid-day and the Old Neptune was still a mile away we found a rather good pub. The Monument was a rather good pub. With Harviestoun’s “bitter and twisted” ale on the hand pump we sat outside (outside – in February!) and ate one of the best plates of fish and chips that I’ve had in a long time. It was a shame that Fudge disgraced himself; there was a little petting zoo in the pub garden, and Fudge would not stop hankering after the rabbits. It’s his nature, he can’t help it, but it was a pain.

From the Monument we walked along back roads past what must have been the world’s crappest memorial marker. We thought it was some war memorial, or something commemorating an important event. It was actually in remembrance of Whitstable’s first council estate.

We eventually got to the beach. It was as well that we’d eaten earlier. The glorious weather had brought people out in droves. Every table outside the Old Neptune was full. There were dozens (if not hundreds) of people milling about, and people were three-deep at the bar. I queued for ages to get served.

But it was a beautiful afternoon to stand on the beach. Fudge played in the sea. Several children were throwing stones into the water at which he was barking.

The weather today was amazing; Exactly one year ago today I wrote “Despite five layers of clothing and my new fingerless fishing gloves I was shivering”. Today I was standing on Whitstable beach in a T-shirt drinking beer (shandy) whilst Fudge was paddling.

From the Old Neptune we walked down to Seasalter. We had intended to go up into Trench Wood, but time had run out. We’ll go there another time.

By the time we got back to our cars we’d walked over thirteen miles, and I’d taken quite a few photos too.

We said our goodbyes, and pausing only briefly to drive the wrong way up a cul-de-sac we were soon on the way home. As I drove I realised something wasn’t right with the car. There was a very odd sound. I turned off my music and tried to work out what the odd noise was. Eventually I realised it was Fudge’s snoring.

We got home to find "Stormageddon - Bringer of Destruction ^TM" playing with his mother’s old “Polly Pocket” stuff. A shame Treacle had to eat quite so much of it.

After a rather good bit of dinner "er indoors ^TM" took littlun up to bed and I fell asleep in front of the telly. I woke several hours later…