30 October 2013 (Wednesday) - Crocodile

Yesterday morning as I scoffed my toast and watched the telly the stars of "Earth 2" were dying for lack of water. In this morning's episode they were camped next to a rather large river. No one commented on this; least of all my dog who was intent on eating the crusts of my toast.

Winter is officially here as for the first time I had to scrape the ice off of my car's windscreen. I say "scrape" - it's nothing that pouring a bottle of cold water can't shift. But it is still cold.
As I drove to work I felt rather sorry for the boss of the power company Eon. He'd been daft enough to come on to the radio to be interviewed, and the interviewers weren't especially kind to him. Bearing in mind his company is one of the few not to have announced a serious price rise I thought they were somewhat mean to the poor chap. However like everyone else in the power business, he was utterly unable to explain how anyone can actually physically change electricity or gas supplier when the stuff you use comes down the same cables and pipes (you just pay someone else).
The morning's news also featured an interview with Chas and Dave who have (apparently) now been a double act for fifty years. Personally I prefer the dulcet (and ruder) toner of Ivor Biggun, but I have never been known for my musical bent.

I stopped off in the Cheapo Bargains shop as I had a few minutes spare. Last night "Furry Face TM" didn't eat his tea. I had flashbacks of the last time he was off his food. But he wasn't ill this time. He was just being fussy. he's not too keenon tinned dog food. Last night when he thought no one was looking he would quietly scoff some of the dog food he was pretending to ignore. He just didn't like it as much as he likes sardines. You wouldn't have thought that a dog would like sardines, but Patagonian Tripe Hounds are not your average mutt.
I thought I'd see how much the sardines were in the Cheapo Bargains shop. I expected, or at least hoped, that the Cheapo Bargains shop would live up to its name. It didn't. Their sardines were eleven pence per tin more expensive than Morrisons. It pays to shop about.
Last week I saw they were selling USB speakers. I quite liked the idea of having one; I saw the price. Twenty quid. I thought better of that idea.

And so to work where the burning question of the day was "Would you rather be a crocodile-sized fish, or a fish-sized crocodile".
For those of my loyal readership who cannot spot the blindingly obvious I will merely say that there is a correct answer and a clearly stupid answer.
I will not insult anyone's intelligence by pointing out which is which.

29 October 2013 (Tuesday) - More Rude Songs

I didn't wake until 4am today. With the clocks having gone back, a week ago that would have been 3am. I see this as something of a result.
Over brekkie I shared my toast with my dog and watched the latest antics of the colonists on Earth 2. Like most television programmes the plot doesn't stand up to any serious scrutiny, but it is entertaining nonetheless. Today our heroes were after water; it was in short supply in the desert where they were doing their thing.

With the clocks having gone back it was light when I set off to work. It won't be for much longer, but I am grateful for what daylight there is. As I drove I listened to the radio as always. There was consternation at the beleaguered industrial plant at Grangemouth where the unions seem to be hell-bent on destroying everyone's livelihood in the name of silly politics. This morning's news featured the revelation that union officials at the plant had been spending a lot of their time on party political issues. The only real surprise in this snippet of news is that it is considered newsworthy. When I was a union representative twenty-odd years ago I can distinctly remember going to a meeting of representatives in London and finding that out of twenty or so people in the meeting I was one of only three who wasn't an active Labour party councillor with much higher political aspirations.

My journey to work was rather quicker than usual today for no reason that I could see. Some days the journey takes only twenty five minutes; other days the trip is nearly double that time with no apparent diffence in road conditions.
I did my bit at work and came home. As I drove home the radio was dribbling about the increased deaths in recreational drug users. There were various theories being expounded by the pundits, but rather than listening to prudish righteous indignation I turned the radio off and sang along to rude songs sung by Ivor Biggun. I've looked him up on Wikipedia. Apparently he's still playing the pub circuit in Suffolk. I wonder if I might organise a trip out to see him playing?

Home - where the clans had gathered. More Merlin. I do like the show, but I'm not sure I can take the King seriously. The actor playing the King was the Prime Minister in "Little Britain", and is currently playing the lead sad-act in the especially lame "You, Me and Them". If you've not seen this show yet, don't feel that you should watch it. It's gone to one episode so far, and for me that is more than enough.

28 October 2013 (Monday) - After the Storm

Last night I went to bed feeling vaguely annoyed. We had been promised (or threatened with) the worst storm for twenty five years. It had been windy yesterday, and there had been heavy rain during the evening. But I slept well; normally heavy rain is noisy against the window. It wasn’t last night.

Extreme weather is often akin to bright comets; never lives up to expectations. It’s the unexpected ones that take us by surprise. Last night’s storm was a bit of a disappointment. We’ve had one fence post break and two panels fall down. Or, to be more precise, next door have had one fence post break and two panels fall down. It’s their fence. Mind you the dustbin lid seems to have vanished. I wonder where that has gone.

I took my dog round the park immediately after brekkie so we could see the damage to the surrounding area. There were a few branches blown off of trees in the park, and a couple of footpaths were blocked as we walked around Singleton Lake, but hardly the promised apocalypse. Whilst pootling my phone rang. the most recent fruit of my loin had the cob. Having travelled half way across the county to get to Big School she had a message to say the University was closed as the lecturers couldn't get there. And she'd hurt her neck too.

We came home and I popped down road to the chemist to get some Vaseline for beer-related purposes. Whilst in the area I had a look in the bakery. They did french sticks and cake at three quarters of the price of the local corner shop. It pays to shop around. I then voomed round with the Hoover and put washing onto the washing line. Or half of the washing line – the other half had come down with the fence overnight.
I was just about to make a cuppa when the door bell rang. It was the plumber. he was early; that suited me. The boiler needed its annual service. I have been told that not having a boiler serviced is an economy I might easily make. But I've seen what happens to unmaintained boilers. The chap did his thing whilst "Furry Face TM" woofed at him, and was soon on his way. I then made my cuppa and had my cake whilst watching a film I'd recorded the other day.

"F" was... well, it was rubbish. Supposedly a horror film: it was about an alcoholic teacher who found himself in a school after hours with various pupils and teachers all of whom were being murdered by rather elusive hoodie-wearing thugs. I think the film was supposed to be allegorical. Though it could have been allegorical of absolutely anything.

I then got busy with the home brew. Last week I started some brown ale off for a Christmas party. That is now in the barrel, and my own Christmas stout is in the bucket hopefully fermenting. I then did this week's dino-course; dinosaur evolution. I only got sixty per cent in the test. I should have paid more attention. I would have played Candy Crush Saga, but the computer wasn't having any of it, so instead I found some FTP freeware that actually worked and backed up all of September's blog rantings. I seem to have missed an anniversary; whilst my little dog was busy being ill in early September I missed the seventh anniversary of my first blog entry. It wasn't anything special (much like the following two thousand five hundred and fifty-odd entries), but I've blogged every day for the seven years since early September 2006.

I heard a commotion in the back garden. "Next Door" have fixed the broken fence. With new panels. I shall have to paint them. And there are gaps at the bottom of the new fence panels. I shall have to get more brindle chippings. I'll do that another time, eh?
I then had a look at a project I staarted a while back but rather let slip. My lego train set is almost complete. I've ordered the last few bits I need to complete the track. Next I need to find sommewhere to set it up permanently and to do some landscaping...

27 October 2013 (Sunday) - Hoo

That washing machine needs a good service. I put it on for a quick wash last night and put a film on whilst I waited for it to stop. It scrubbed all through "Wayne's World", "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" and most of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" before it gave up on my shirts.

With the clocks going back woke earlier than usual, and following a 4am shave I went back to bed. But any chance of an extra hour in bed was wiped out by a small dog with no understanding of Daylight Saving. I watched more "Earth 2" over brekkie, remembering this morning's arch baddie (wearing rags) in last night's film (in racy underwear).
"My Boy TM" phoned shortly after 8am. He was up and about and wonderred if I fancied going for a fry-up. I did, but time was short so reluctantly passed the opportunity this time.

And then on with the business of the day. Having foolishly listened to weather forecasts for the last two Sundays (and wasted the days) we decided that we were going out today. Three of us and two small dogs set off to Hoo on the Isle of Grain. Plumbus's Hoo Massive was billed as a series of twenty eight geocaches over five miles, and we felt that would do the trick for today. It did, but...

Over the last year I've done many geocaches series, and invariably they are listed as being shorter than they actually are. Today was no different. All the information said this was a walk of five point two miles. Two sat-navs independently measured the distance at six and a half miles.
And the various cache descriptions were odd. Each cache bore a title number, one to twenty four (!) but the decriptions following the title had a different number, one or two higher. For example the verbals for cache #21 all referred to cache #23.
Most of the caches needed new logs. many were completely full.
And the last four caches were missing. That's not "we couldn't find them"; the verbals all referred to a series of twenty eight caches, but there were only twenty four for which listings could be found.
But that all sounds rather negative, doesn't it? I don't mean to be so down on the series; it was a very good walk in somewhere that I would probably never go if not for this silly obsesion with hunting plastic boxes.

Our walk finished rather earlier than we expected, so we did a couple of other nearby geocaches. At one I turned on my Munzee app and (completely at random) found we were leess than ten yards from the only Munzee on the Isle of Grain. We also found that we were within striking distance of a cache which was in a disused milatery bunker, so we scrambled into that and spent a very entertaining ten minutes tunnel-ratting. We picked up a couple more caches as we drove home; finishing the day in church (literally) with my cache count at two thousand four hundred and ninety nine. I really should find a special cache for my upcoming milestone.

Home; and after a rather good bit of tea er indoors TM" set off bowling. I watched a couple of episodes of "Jeeves and Wooster". Bertie was using treacle to steal a painting. Apparently that is what art theives did eighty years ago.
Meanwhile in Downton Abbey there was consternation as Lady Edith found out that she's gotten herself "in the club". Not to be outdone, cousin Rose can caught in flagrante in the kitchen with the jazz singer. And there was disturbbing news from Uncle Harold.
I'm looking forward to the next installment...

26 October 2013 (Saturrday) - Quack Quack (Oops!)

I awoke after a surprisingly good night's sleep to find it was 7am. I liked that. Whilst er indoors TM" snored I watched more "Earth 2". Frankenfurter was spreading discord, as is the wont of most baddies. He was doing quite well until True saw through his ruse. Interestingly the actor who plays True's father was the sergeant in "Starshp Troopers" and does the voice of Mr Krabs in SpongeBob SquarePants.
I then had a go at (or with) the astro club's accounts. This time they agreed. We have as much money as we are supposed to have. Probably a million and a half less than we need; but we are working on that.

We put on old clothes and set off to a certain farm. Over the summer during a camping weekend we helped get some duck houses out of ponds. These duck houses have since been cleaned, varnished, proofed and generally refurbished and were ready fo re-floating. There was a minr hiccup when the tractor wouldn't start, but fortunately there was an emergency back-up tractor on hand to provide a bump start. Having provided a bump start we had problems findng neutral (such is life!) so we reverted to the emergency back-up tractor to drag duck houses to ponds. Mud, cow poo, smelly pond water, rancid ropes; I love doing the duck houses. I've been involved with floating and retrieving them for years and wouldn't miss it for anything. I'm told that "Dreadnaught" (the latest duck at the farm) is particularly pleased with the floating of his house.

We came home, and after hosing the mud and cow poo off of "Furry Face TM" we had coffe and a Belgian bun for lunch. I was tempted to got for a McDonalds; in years gone by I would have done so. In years gone by I was nearly twenty stone in weight.
er indoors TM" then had a hissy fit. Whilst out this morning she'd taken some rather scenic photos of me and a small dog both covered in assorted farmyard gunge. Fiddling with her phone over coffee she managed to delete the photos. Woops!

Lacking any decent waterproofs er indoors TM" wanted to get some. She went to the Outlet Centre. For want of anything better to do I went along too. I've not been to the Outlet Centre for ages; and it will be ages before I go again. The shops there sell stuff that you can buy in Tescos or Asda for a fraction of the price. I saw one wooden child's toy for sale at twenty quid which was identical in every respect to something I saw last week for sale for six quid in the Cheapo Bargains shop in Wincheap.
I have long maintained that designer outlets appeal to people who have money to burn, and have again proved my prejudice. Mind you judging by the crowds there seem to be a lot of peoople with money to burn.

Finding myself at a loose end I thought I'd get ahead with my dino-course. I watched three lectures on how continental drift has confused dino-ologists, and then got full marks on the subject. I was rather smug about that. I then put Candy Crush Saga on the PC and slept in front of it for an hour. And then I had a stroke of genius. It's always easier to iron shirts when they are wet straight out of the washing machine. So with er indoors TM" off to the film night I put shirts in to wash.
The washing machine is still going. It shows no sign of stopping. I think it's gone mental...

25 October 2013 (Friday) - Astro Club

Over brekkie I watched the next instalment of "Earth 2". Today's episode featured Tim Curry (of "Rocky Horror" fame) as the arch-baddie; a part he played very well. I'm quite "getting into" this show; so far it's rather good really. I know I've seen it before, but I don't remember much about it. I can vaguely remember brrowing it on video cassettes recorded from the telly many years ago.

And then before leaving for work I checked social media. There is a major meet-up of geocachers planned for next May - a "Mega Meet". From what I can work out a "Mega Meet" is not entirely dissimilar to a village fete. Along the lines of Challock Goose Fair, or the fun days at Gilwell we used to take cubs to.
There were postings on the Geocaching in Kent Facebook group suggesting that people might like to offer help and assistance in running this event. I fought the urge to say anything.
A few weeks ago I looked at offering the services of the astro club for this. We could have staged solar observing for the punters during the daytime and stargazing at night for those camping out at the Mega. We could have put on planetarium shows for anyone and everyone. It's the sort of thing that the astro club does; and does well, and does without asking for anything in return.
I made the offer, and was asked for fifty pounds for my suggestion to be considered, so I abandoned the idea. On reflection I can't help but feel that whoever is organising this Mega-Event has totally misunderstood what I was offering. I also wonder how many other offers of help they are turning away like this.

This morning's drive to work was rather depressing. Heavy rain and pitch darkness. As I drove through Chartham there was a near accident. I very nearly flattened a cyclist. The idiot was cycling along the busy A28 at 6.45am. It was still night; there were no street lights, and this fool was dressed entirely in black with no lights on his bike at all.

The news gave me cause for a wry smile. Apparently American secret agents have been monitoring the private communications of European governments including personal phone calls made by the German Chancellor. Am I the only one who doesn't find these revelations surprising? I was under the impression that every government spied on every other government.
There was an ex-First Sea Lord interviewed on the radio who said quite candidly that from his personal experience he assumed his every movement was under the surveillance of various international organisations.

I stopped off in Morrisons to get some lunch, and some tea for later. I got what I wanted and took it to the self service tills where I was met by a rather grouchy old biddie (in Morrisons uniform) who announced that all the tills in the shop were closed and I would have to try somewhere else. I was about to ask her whether she would recommend Asda or Tesco when she grudgingly conceded that they had just opened till number twelve. I went there and was met by someone pretending to be happy in their work. They asked me if I needed help in packing my items. "All five of them?" I asked. My sarcasm went unnoticed, which was probably for the best.

I did my bit at work, and came home. I left a little earlier than usual because tonight was astro club. I could have listened to the news as I drove. Usually I do, but tonight I didn't fancy it. Instead I put on a CD of "Ivor Biggun" and sang along to rude songs.
And so to astro club. Not a bad turn out. It might have been better, but it was half-term week. I gave a talk (rant) on comets which seemed to be well received, and in a novel break with tradition we had clear skies so we got the teleescopes out and stargazed.
I don't do that anywhere near enough...

24 October 2013 (Thursday) - A Walk, and a Lazy Day

I felt rather rough this morning when I woke. Can’t imagine why. Once I would drink a gallon of ale and be fine the next day. Not any more. I got up, thought about having a shave, and went back to bed. I eventually arose just before 9am.

A swift brekkie, then I took “Furry Face TM “ round the block for a walk. We had a dodgy five minutes when he slipped the lead and ran across a busy road, but all was well. We came home and I spent a little while working on my presentation for tomorrow night, and then Lisa mentioned she’d like to do the Appledore Amble. Overnight the instructions had appeared for what to do with the clues I’d accumulated yesterday, so we set off to Appldore and did the same walk I did yesterday; but this time in reverse order.

This time we found the elusive bonus cache; and also cache #4 that I couldn’t find yesterday. This had been found for the first time this morning and it would seem that the co-ordinates I used yesterday were about one hundred metres adrift. Again it was a good walk; a certain small dog seemed to like it.

We came home and I spent more time on tomorrow night’s talk. Not as much as I might lilke to have done; I kept falling asleep. Once I woke I did this week's dino-course lectures. And got top marks. I was pleased about that.

And feeling rather tired I spent much of the evening watching tat on the telly. Today was something of a  lazy day.  quite like those from time to time..


23 October 2013 (Wednesday) - FTF and Beer

I was woken at 7am by a small dog sitting on my chest licking my nose. He does that. I got up and had brekkie. I checked out the “Geocaching in Kent” Facebook group and sighed. There were a few threads griping about various problems in caching which are entirely the making of using GPS units.
I wish I knew why people hunt Tupperware with a GPS unit. They aren’t designed for that job. And those who advocate doing the job the long–winded way also advocate the unnecessary use of software (which no one seems to understand) as though making the job into hard work was a clever thing to do.

I usually take my dog out immediately after brekkie, but the weather was against it. He didn’t understand, and he looked like he was going to cry when he saw I wasn’t going out. Whilst I waited for the rain to stop I got the makings of forty pints of brown ale on the go, and then did the monthly accounts. They didn’t look very good, but then bearing in mind the hammering that they received from car repairs a week or so ago I wasn’t really surprised.

The rain had eased off, so I put “Furry Face TM “s lead on him and we went round the roads through Newtown and into Frogs Island. Whilst there I looked for one of my own geocaches. Several months ago a rather good geocache (that Jose had made for me) went missing and I replaced it with a magnetic key holder. I had received a report that someone had found two caches when looking for that one so I thought I’d have a look. Sure enough the original cache had returned. I wonder where that had been.
And then Fudge woofed at a passing scratter on its way home from Asda. The scratter dared to be disrespectful to my dog and I saw red. I offered to shove said scratter’s shopping up its arse. The scratter soon hurried off.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that; but he shouldn’t have been rude to my dog. We carried on with our walk, popping in to Pets at Home; if only so “Furry Face TM “ sees the vets as part of our walk and not as somewhere he should be scared to go.

Once home I put some washing in the machine, made a cup of coffee and checked my emails. Red Alert! A series of a dozen geocaches had just gone live (fifteen minutes previously) and so with the chance of a First to Find I stuck the lead back onto my dog and we zoomed off to Appledore.
The Appledore Amble is a series of caches in a vaguely circular walk out of Appledore, through some wonderful scenery and comes back along the canal. We arrived in Appledore, parked up within yards of the first cache and could see no one else was caching yet. I pulled my boots on and soon had the first cache in hand. I was the first one there. Happy dance! FTF. Oh yes!
We carried on along the walk, FTF-ing as we went. At the third cache I had a shock. I found what looked like it might be a geocache in a sock tied to a bench post. As I undid it I saw the actual cache a foot away, but I was intrigued. Someone had tied a sock to a post, and inside that sock was a note saying that this was the Saxon Shore Way sock #7. I wonder what that was about? Presumably some rival form of geocaching in which one hides socks?
We failed to find the fourth cache; the brambles were too thick for my liking. I say “we” – my dog has very little interest in geocaching. Fox poo is another matter as he proved whilst I searched.
We pressed on through ploughed fields and thick mud. Despite missing cache #4 I continued finding caches that no one else had. Usually where a load of caches go live I tend to share the love and only take one FTF. But this was a series of caches; designed to be done as a series. Those that chase FTFs could have driven round if they were in a rush. Me and my dog walked. And FTF-ed with clear consciences.
We had a minor hiccup at cache #8. The route then went along the canal. There were marked footpaths along both banks. When I found I couldn’t get within forty metres of cache #9 it was clear I’d chosen the wrong bank. As I was walking back to the bridge ‘er indoors TM  sent the news that other cachers had started the cache series from the other end and had FTF-ed some. I managed one more FTF, then met “The Three of Us” (there were two of them) at cache #10.
We chatted for a bit. It was odd. I’m sure I’ve not met them before, but they recognised me. Or to be precise they recognised “Furry Face TM “; their first words were “This must be Fudge”.

I then gave up FTF-ing and started geocaching. The two are very different concepts. I found three more caches, and having got all of the clues to find the bonus cache I couldn’t find what I was supposed to do with these clues. Usually the clues give you co-ordinates of the bonus. These ones didn’t. After twenty minutes of head scratching I logged that I hadn’t a clue and came home.
I came home to find that the chap who had hidden this elusive bonus cache had since posted an apology. He had overlooked publishing the instructions on what to do with the clues. Some might see that as being rather frustrating. I saw it as a relief that I hadn’t overlooked something obvious.

To Folkestone. I’d heard reports of the Firkin Ale House so I went there with the Rear Admiral. They did a nice drop straight from the barrel. And cheese too. And a wonderfully decorated lavatory. We had an elegant sufficiency and moved on to Kipps Kipps is another alee house of which we’d not heard such good reports. It seemed OK to me. They had Dogbolter, which can’t be bad. From there we wandered and staggered to Wetherspoons who were doing something nutty. We then staggered off for a kebab, kissed goodbye and I found the train station. I got there at the same time as the train so didn’t have time to get a ticket. The ticket inspector on the train laughed when I told him I didn’t have a ticket, and he said that he thought I looked honest and I should buy one when I got off. I would have if I had seen anywhere open to buy one from.
When I got home I found these photos on my phone

22 October 2013 (Tuesday) - Toblerone

Despite a rather good night's sleep I woke with rather a bad back this morning which gave me grief all day. In retrospect I should have taken a sickie. Sometimes it seems to me that I take far less sick leave than the rest of the universe. Perhaps I should look after myself from time to time?

Over brekkie my dog sat on my lap and chewed his new toy whilst I watched the next DVD set on my shelf - "Earth 2". At first appearance it might seem a rather run-of-the-mill sci-fi show but it has one major difference to most of the other shows on telly. There are no military characters, nor is anyone in any police force.
Perhaps that is why I liked it, and why the show was cancelled. But it was entertaining enough whilst I scoffed my toast.

Being on the late shift I left for work rather later than I usually do, and I met all the rush hour traffic. As I drove the Foreign Secretary was being harangued on the radio. He spoke for ten minutes about the current situation in Syria without actually saying anything. That is a good trick if you can do it; I would imagine it is invaluable in a politician.
Apparently today marks the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the National Theatre. To commemorate the occasion the pundits on the radio staged a telephone interview with an old luvvie who had been in the first ever performance staged by the National Theatre. The talk was all of "how lucky we are as a nation", "the envy of the world", but no one seemed to pick up on the fact that the one being interviewed had long since upped sticked and moved to America from where she was telephoning.
Today also marks the two hundred and sixteenth anniversary of the first recorded parachute jump.
Being before aeroplanes, this jump was from a hot air balloon.
I would like to have done a parachute jump. Now let's read that sentence carefully. I would like to have done one. I certainly would not like to actually do one.

To work where I did my bit. Last night I made my lunch and I put it in the fridge overnight. When I opened the box this morning I found that a toblerone had appeared in it. That was a welcome surprise.
And with my bit done I came home. I dislike the A28. This morning as I drove there was a fool in the car behind itching to overtake me. He eventually flew past on a dangerous bend only to find the queue of traffic that was holding me back. I followed this twit for the next eight miles. This evening I was again in the thick of the drunken drivers; driving down the centre of the road at twenty five miles per hour.
One wonders about the entire concept of traffic police...

21 October 2013 (Mondaay) - Munzees

Last night saw a return to insomnia, with me waking after only three hours sleep. I was up and washing up at 5am. To pass the time I watched a couple of episodes of a show featuring Timothy Spall sailing round the British coast in a barge. I found the show quite entertaining, but couldn't help but remember my brother's dislike of the actor. Apparently the fellow wasn't too impressed with being raucously greeted by my brother at the boat show at Earls Court a few years ago. Personally I sympathise with Mr Spall.
And watching the show gave me a mild surprise - I never knew that Timothy Spall had leukaemia nearly twenty years ago. A lot of people do survive that terrible disease nowadays.

And so to work. In the dark and the rain. As I drove I listened (as always) to the news. The deputy Prime Minister was speaking out against his own government's education policies. The pundits on the radio felt that this was a sign of current political times; with the Con-servatives falling in the public's popularity, the dribbling democraps are angling for position in the next government in which (apparently) they plan to be in a coalition with the Labour party. To that end they are now sucking up to the Labour party.
You have to admire their obvious opportunism if nothing else.

There was also a feature on changes to legal aid. Legal aid is no longer available to people fighting for access to their children following divorce.
Instead of legal recourse, such people are to be offered "mediation". It would seem the public are treating "mediation" with the contempt it deserves and are representing themselves in court to the consternation of seasoned legal professionals. Apparently the legal profession don't want us mere mortals representing themselves in court because us mere mortals tend not to fart around with legal jargon; preferring to apply common sense to our arguments. This is not held in high esteem by those in legal professions. The implication was made on the radio that perhaps their gravy train was about to be de-railed.
I couldn't possibly comment other than observing that it's a shame that justice isn't something the average man in the street can afford any more.

As I drove into Wincheap there was talk on the radio about the amount of waste in supermarkets. I went to Morrisons today and bought two apples and two bananas. One each for today and one each for tomorrow. This morning's radio featured the revelation from Tesco that four out of every ten apples they sell is wasted. The same is true for one banana in ten, half their bakery output and most of their bagged salads.
They were rather vague about whether people bought it and wasted it at home, or whether it went manky in the shops. But either way it's a lot of waste. Which is why I count the fruit I buy, and buy what I need and no more.
On reflection my grandmother always had a bowl full of fruit in her living room which was going manky.

While I was parked in Morrisons I left the car in the car park and walked over the road to the park & ride. there was a Munzee there. Munzees are the latest "this week's novelty". They are a bit like geocaches in that they are secreted all over the place and you use GPS technology to find them. But rather than tupperware boxes, Munzees are QR codes. Often very obviously on public display (stuck to lamp posts or public bins) and ignored by all. Today's one was blatantly obvious from twenty yards away. When you find them you scan them with your phone, and then clear off to find the next one.
For some reason they aren't anywhere near as common (locally) as geocaches. There are hundreds of geocaches in Ashford. there are no Munzees at all. Yet. there's a few in Canterbury, but not many. I shall have a hunt round the map and see if it's worth carrying on with this game.

I did my bit at work and came home via a geocache I had hidden in Chilham some months ago. The word was that the cache had gone. The word was right - it had vanished. So I replaced it with a spare I'd brought along just in case.
I wonder if Munzees get muggled?