One step forward, two steps back.

For the past few weeks TP and I have been taking Tyson and Marauder to a later Dog Training class. It was going really well as the dogs had all reached a reasonable level of training and there was none of the chaotic clamour associated with the puppy classes. The exercises were more advanced and T&M were performing well.

Then a particular Collie decided that it wasn't overly keen on Marauder and took a couple of nips at her heels and barked at her every time she performed an exercise.

Unfortunately M is not the most confident of dogs. She is very bright and very easy to train but, despite socialisation, is nervous of certain dogs. We don't know what triggers it. With some dogs she is happy to say hello and bounce around but others elicit playful but nervous barking. It is improving as she grows up but there is still some way to go.

Well the relationship with the Collie did not improve despite attempts to get them acquainted and M became more and more withdrawn to the point where her tail was between her legs for the entire class and she would lie under my seat unwilling to perform any tasks. Her tail would spring up as soon as we left the Village Hall at the end of training so it was clear that she wasn't happy there. She had literally gone back months in her training at class but was still fine at home.

In an attempt to resolve we have moved to a Monday class and the first session was yesterday. Things are much better, not perfect, but much better so fingers crossed that this will bring her confidence levels back up.

Tyson*, incidentally, is a completely different character and despite the Collie's antics simply gets on with things and ignores him. Most strange how two dogs brought up together in the same environment are so different.

-----------------------------------------------

* This is the dog that has spent a good proportion of this morning stood on her hind legs attempting to nibble Potato's ears. Potato has shown heroic restraint and tolerated this abuse from his perch on the island in the kitchen.

Day of Rest - My ar.........

TP had an away match today and needed to be up on top of the Cotswolds at 10 o'clock sharp this morning. This meant that an alarm had to be set and since I have to set one on most days of the week setting one on Sunday really does go against the grain.

So, off we went and arrived at the Rugby Club. I have visited the locale several times with TP's previous team and, when the weather is bad, it is the most god forsaken, wind blown, exposed hell holes of a place on Earth. This is made worse by the fact that they are an incredibly good team and tend to walk over most opposition.

Today was different in one respect, the weather was beautiful. It is probably best that I don't say any more.....

..... back home we lunched and then I took T&M out for a walk round the "three miler" This was their usual constitutional which involves wading through as many ditches and puddles as possible and, when they are not up to their midriff in mud, they are sampling any horse shit they can find.

I got my own back when we arrived home and threw them in their bath!

On the curing front the bacon needed to be removed from the box, rubbed with more cure, rotated and replaced in the fridge. As can be seen in the following picture,an amazing amount of liquor is "pulled" from the meat by the cure.

I suppose it doesn't look that appetising but  there is no odour other than the smell of the aromatics in the cure.This liquid is poured off and the pieces of meat or flitches are re-salted.

As can be seen, the meat is already changing colour and texture as the cure takes effect and fluid is extracted from the meat. Once re-salted the piece of meat that is at the bottom is moved to the top to allow each piece equal potential to dry cure.

This will continue for the next five or six days but, don't worry, I'm not going to subject you to a daily snapshot of a piece of curing meat.

Before I finish I do have one observation. Many curing recipes call for Kosher salt - doesn't that seem a little odd?

Motoring News

The "Prius" went in for her MOT this morning and passed with no "Advisory Notices".

I am obviously pleased as it means that the upcoming Service will be just that, with no additional repairs to be added to the service.

Any of you who have read this nonsense will know that the Prius is not, in fact, a Japanese, Hybrid engined "eco" car but a British 4 wheel drive. I can hear the Environmentalists wince from here but I have already pointed out that I bought her second hand and don't actually drive that far in a year which makes her carbon footprint a lot smaller than the size 13's most people assume she has. After all 20,000 miles per annum and a new car every three years does tend to kick out a lot of CO2 even if the car can give you 40+ miles per gallon.

Where am I going with this? Well, a comparison of this and last years MOT certificates show that I drove her just under 5,000 miles in the past 12 months. That is one of the benefits of working from home. It also means that I don't really feel that guilty about her fuel consumption of 30 mpg.

Using crude mathematics this means that my annual fuel consumption is in the region of 167 gallons. That's about 3 gallons per week or about £16 per week at current diesel prices.

----------------------------------

Random Fact: Today I gave Sell-by-Date a pedicure - bless him - he is so old that he doesn't really walk that far and consequently his claws don't get worn away.

I'm not dead.

exactly what it says on the tin.

Where have I been for the past 5 week ......

To be honest the finger operation has gone pretty well but for the first couple of weeks the last thing I wanted to do with it was bash it against a keyboard so I spent a frustrating time watching daytime TV and doing as much as I could in the kitchen. The nerves are affected by the operation so I have an index finger that still feels like it has just had root canal work at the Dentist. This make using it normally a bit of a challenge as sensitivity is poor and grip and control are both affected. Cooking was fun but I had to keep a close eye on what I was doing or it would have been severed or scalded quite easily.

Net result of my Kitchen based occupational therapy is a Freezer full of home made faggots - that is likely to result on some new readers using the words Freezer and Faggots in Google! I also managed several pints of Pea and Ham Soup and a Game Terrine using some Partridge, Pheasant and Pigeon that was provided by a friend that shoots.

After a fortnight of getting bored and cooking - actually I didn't get bored - I spent at least a few minutes every day sending praise aloft to the God or Gods that had allowed me to escape from the Account Team I had been working with at Dante's.

So that was the two weeks of certified sick leave and then 30%, TP, Tyson, Marauder and I spent a week up on the Lleyn Peninsular in Wales. For those of you that are Geographically challenged, if you see Wales as looking somewhat like a Pig's head the Lleyn Peninsular is the "ear" in the North that sticks out in to the Irish Sea. We had a great time and, as we took the Dogs, it was mostly long walks along beaches and up Bryn's - "its Welsh for Hill" - Thank you Mr Brydon. My lasting impression of the Lleyn is that it is like my 40 year old memories of Worcestershire except that it has more flavours of ice cream.

We then had a further week at home just doing stuff that needed doing and have that smug feeling that accompanies a slightly tidier house, garage and garden.

OK, so why haven't I produced anything for the past week or so - well I started a new role at Dante's at the beginning of last week and have been somewhat swamped to say the least.

Amongst all of this we have had the Chaps in to rip out the family bathroom and replace it with something suitable for People *. The work has gone really well and we are delighted with the results. There are still a few bits to do before we can cut the ribbon and declare it open and this will see me in the roof space to see whether recessed low voltage spots are really an option along with a load of painting in the not too distant future.

So, I have opened the Journal again and started to scrawl. No commitments to frequency though.

----------------------------------------------------

* Believe me, before they started it looked like it should be a grainy shot in a documentary with a bloated body floating, face down in a filled bath - those are the perils of buying a "project house"

Birthday Present.

Today is my Dad's Birthday. 

If he was a dog he be about 11 years old.

A few weeks back I mentioned that he has decided to have another dog after 15 or more years without one and so this is his Birthday present. He adores Tyson, but she is way too energetic for an elderly Gentleman so it is fortunate that her breed comes in a smaller variety and this is what he has chosen.

I have this afternoon off work and we will be traveling up in to South Staffordshire to pick up the Pup. Yet another coincidence that Tyson & Marauder's joint alias is the "Straining Staffies" and that is where the new pup originates.

On the Home Front the Buff Brahma Cock is now in the fridge. I hope that keeps the Neighbour happy.

It is unfortunate that 30% had become a little attached to him but at least her feelings are eased by the fact that he had a good and long life before he was prepped for dinner. I'm not sure how common knowledge it is but most commercial poultry is killed at around 6 to 7 weeks old*. Free Range Birds are slightly older but rarely more than 12 weeks. Have you ever looked at a Free Range Bird in the Supermarket and gasped when they are asking £9 to £11 for a bird - that is the price of those extra weeks and a field to run round in.

The Buff Lad was about a year old and is probably a bit tough for a roast so I have jointed him and he will make a great casserole, as did the Light Sussex earlier in the week.

On the work front, I finish today and am likely to be off for the best part of a month. I have a minor operation on my hand tomorrow and am then likely to be signed off for a couple of weeks while it heals and am then away for the Family Holiday at the back end of August before starting in a new role at Dante's.

To quote John "Hannibal" Smith; "I love it when a plan comes together"

---------------------------------------------------

* at this age they still cheep rather than cluck and still have baby blue eyes**
** this is the reason I like to rear at least some of the chicken we eat at home

Yesterday's News

Things at work are slowing down as I complete the hand over of my current workload to a colleague.

This meant that I was able to take a lunch break and nip in to town to the auto-bank. Not particularly newsworthy, I'll admit, but on this occasion a lack of time pressures meant that I could take the dust sheet off the Vespa and take a slightly more extended route than is normal. It is somewhat frustrating that I have only just got her back to a roadworthy and road legal state and am about to have a hand operation that is likely to keep me off her for a good few weeks while it heals.

Moving on, Tuesday evening is dog training night. TP is off for a few days with his Mum so 30% stood in as Marauder's Handler and off we went to class....

... what a disaster that was! The normal trainer was off having had an operation on her foot and a replacement had been found - Trainer. not foot - talk about chalk and cheese! It was a nightmare - the key to dog training is consistency and repetition - this woman was contradictory, very poor at describing what she wanted from the class and unwilling to go with the approach that the normal trainer has. As a consequence I was confused so God only knows what Tyson and Marauder thought of it all.

It wasn't just me either. 30%  had to bite her tongue on a couple of occasions and we saw a few "looks" from other members too. After the class we tend to take the dogs for a quick run round the park in case they need a pee before the drive home. This gave us the opportunity for a bitching session with a few other members and in true team spirit we decided that the new trainer was piss poor and it was a good job Brenda is only off for a couple of weeks.

A few of us decided to throw a "sicky" next week and return to classes once Brenda is fit and able. That might seem a bit extreme but I learned how much I enjoy dog training and how much of that enjoyment was dissipated by a replacement trainer who seemed to think that the current approach is incorrect and needs a new strategy.

That is all well and good so long as you win Hearts and Minds and can take the Group along to this Brave New World. Unfortunately that was the flaw with her plan. There was nothing wrong with the old approach and if it ain't broke don't fix it - especially if you are only standing in for a couple of weeks.

Nothing to see here!

Tuesday.

Dropped in to the nearest circle of Hell to start passing over my work to the Tortured Soul that will take over from me when I move to another type of torture in a few weeks time.

He has taken over and pushed my rock up the hill on a few previous occasions and I know that he will do a great job. We both tend to push rocks in much the same way so the hand-over should be pretty straightforward.

I had a massive boulder operation going on last year and had to pass it to the same soul as I needed to go and have an Eagle peck at my Heart. When I came back a few weeks later all was well and the rock/hill situation was as Lucifer wanted......

.... a safe pair of hands!

On the Home Front it was dog training this evening and this is a revelation after Puppy Training which was becoming a little "samey". The training exercises are far more advanced and both Tyson & Marauder are really doing well. It is great for TP too as he is in a class with adults and it is a level playing field. He is able to work with Marauder and achieve at the same level as every one else. No "leg ups", no allowances. He is doing really well and it is great for his confidence and maturity. I am really proud of him.

It is a short week this week as I have Friday off. We are planning to spend the day at the CLA Game Fair. I am hoping for good weather and may have to make an offering to the Gods* to ensure Sunny Spells as a minimum rather than the Heavy Rain Showers that are currently forecast. 

* Hmmm - all I have a chickens and I think I'd need something approaching Human Sacrifice to get that degree of change in the weather. Ah well - better take a coat and wellington boots.

All I have to do now....

..... is put it all back together.

30% and I have finally finished painting the kitchen. We started it weeks ago and should be proudly showing off our efforts by now but a few things came up. There were occasions when simply doing nothing seemed a much better idea than applying emulsion to the walls. Anyway, we applied the last coats t the walls today and this is when I found out that I am probably no more intelligent than a pigeon...

.... let me explain. We have a tall larder fridge and we moved it in to sit along side the island so that we could paint the walls and skirting boards of the aforementioned appliance's aperture. As I have already explained it then lived in this temporary location for a few weeks but it now back in its proper place. The thing is, every time I make 30% a cup of coffee I go to get the milk from where the fridge was rather than where the fridge is.

In other words I have managed to condition myself to go to a location where I expect to received milk in much the same way as a pigeon will peck at a coloured spot in order to receive a few grains of corn. I hasten to add that I have managed to break this conditioning in under 24 hours but it was quite an odd experience to find oneself walking towards a space expecting to grab a carton of semi-skimmed.

Other decorating events. For  brief spell Marauder - it is always Marauder - had a few patches of "Putting Green" on her. That's the feature wall, the rest of the room is Ivory Lace. I didn't want an "accent" Dog so then spent a good few minutes cleaning off the paint. I then discovered that using the dish cloth did not earn 30%'s full approval.

This reminded me of a Fly/Drive holiday we had in the States three years ago. No, not the moaning about using the dish cloth to clean the dog, the fact that the dog was briefly green in places.

As part of our Road Trip we visited Monument valley which is in the Navajo Nation. If you have never been there it's worth a trip but the Navajo Nation has its own ground rules which mean that it is unlike the rest of the USA.

For starters there is no alcohol allowed. Apparently this is an attempt to control the alcoholism that is prevalent in the population. I have a couple of thoughts on this...

... thought number 1; that law is great and will stop people who can't drive and don't have any friends that can drive from drinking. Everyone else will just get in their car and buy it just outside the border. Thought number 2; the Nation ought to concentrate on making the Nation a little more hospitable and encouraging to visitors as they seem to have two potential industries farming and tourism and they don't seem very good at either. It is no wonder that the locals tend to drink.

The end result is that we spend a night in a Trailer Park in a static van that smelt of Horse Piss.

The Valley is a fantastic natural spectacle and worth a visit - just don't try to spend a night in the vicinity until the Navajo Nation get their act together.

What about the dog and the paint - Yes. I'm getting to that. To give you some idea of what it is like in the Nation, they paint a broad, coloured stripe of gloss paint down their dog's back to show that it isn't a stray. Hence the dogs at the Horse Piss Trailer Park were a a shade of aquamarine that matched the caravans. They smelt pretty similar too. The reason for this........

........ apparently a local hobby is shooting strays so painting your dog reduces the chance of it ending up as target practice for the bored and drunk locals.

Only in America.

Heart Rate

Following on from yesterday's post I carried out a few basic calculations.

The average heart rate for a Human Being is 72 beats per minute. After a few divisions this can be seen to equate to about 39.6 years.

Apparently our ability to manipulate our environment and provide medical care gives us an extra 1 million heart beats or 26.4 years. That is quite an impressive improvement but surprisingly still not that far off the Biblical "3 score years and 10".

Using this basic information it would be wise to keep people you dislike as stressed a possible, thereby getting them to hit the magic 2.5B as early as possible.

It is with great disappointment that I learn that even if I can push the heart rate to an average of 100 bpm the Imp's Skid-mark is still going to be around for another 19.025 years. CURSES!

Saner stuff - it was the first Dog Training Class since Tyson has finished her Season. We have also now been promoted out of the Puppy Class since T&M achieved their Bronze KC Award. They both did really well and are definitely not the worst dogs in the new class and it is surprising how their behavior changes when they are in a class of older dogs.

Whilst in an educational vein it was also TP's Parents Evening and all was well. Anyone who knows TP will be relieved to hear that the XBox Controls and i Pod Touch privileges have been reinstated.

Success at last.

I forgot to mention that it was the Village Horse Show on Saturday. I had absolutely no intention of going as I am not a great fan of the horse. That has a lot to do with a pushy, horsey Mother but I'm not going to go in to that now. I just need to state that I can ride, but don't.

I have a great respect for working horses but I just cannot see the point of hacking..... and how bloody miserable do they look as you crawl past at 4 miles  per hour. Why do something if it makes you that unhappy? I'm not sure if it is a regional thing but the women and girls (never, actually very rarely, men) who hack around here look as miserable as sin.

Anyway, another digression, I had no intention of going but I was walking Tyson & Marauder on Friday evening and we happened across a Gentleman with two aged Collies. He asked if we were planning to enter them in the Dog Show that was in the Schedule of the aforementioned Horsey Extravaganza - thus the seed was sown.

I mentioned it to 30% and she thought it was a marvelous idea and I could see that it was going to get me out of at least 2 hours of emulsioning so obviously I was all for it.

The weather was splendid and the afternoon could only have been better if there had been a beer tent. Marauder came third in the Puppy class and Tyson stormed through to win the Dog in best condition. How she managed to not get a place in the Puppy class but win another class hands down does question the Judges objective set of criteria but I'm not going to dwell.

We drove home - too damned hot to walk and bathed in T&M's reflected Glory. 30% was considering making an official complaint as the dog that won best in show was from Stourport which is over 20 miles away and therefore not local - "Leave it 30, they're not worth it"......

.... plus they are going to regret getting a St Bernard when they realise it is basically a drool machine. I hate slobbery dogs - Sell-by-date take note!

I'm not dead.

30% and I were discussing something this evening and we had one of those "jinx" moments where we both think and say the same thing. I can't recall what it was and it really doesn't matter. We have them a lot as we are very similar in a lot of ways.

But I digress, I said " I am like an open book to you" and she replied "possibly a pamphlet" and then revised this down to "actually probably more like an open comic". We laughed and that was a good start to the evening.

Both of our days have been frustrating and it is so nice to spend the evening taking supper in the garden and then just relaxing away from the posturing and game playing of the work environment.

Both of our Employers have recently undergone a culling process and this has had effects that may not have been quantified or expected. Many of the survivors seem to be suffering a form of battle fatigue having been on notice of possible redundancy for 3 months and having been notified that they are safe are now tired as a result of the stress and have a questioning outlook having been forced to consider their job role and what to do if they are forced to consider pastures new.

Basically they have undergone a period of self examination combined with a review of their working life and what it actually means to them. It comes as no surprise to me to talk to people that are less committed than they might have been previously.

That is why it is so good to have 30% come home and to be able to laugh and switch off.

So, what have I been doing since my last entry? Well I suppose I need to state that this is my Journal and if things are mundane or bogged down with work there is not much point in jotting it down. Do I want to look back at this in 6 months time and see oblique references to a tit of a Project Manager who is now long gone?

No, not really and I am sure that they will mean even less to you, if you are out there, so if the day is dull I will try to find something that is worthwhile but if not - no entry. The post about the Red Kites a couple of days back is a good example. The working day was long and left little time for anything else. The Kites were a high point that perhaps could mean something to a casual reader and, if I look back, the memory of them soaring above the Motorway is a better thing to hold on to than a debate about the technical intricacies of a long dead project.

So, what have I been up to? Well the weekend saw me take another crack at the lawn that has been mercilessly attacked by Tyson & Marauder. I hope that, as they are nearly ready to go on to adult dog food, the lower protein level will result in less scorch marks on the lawn.

So, I'm an open comic. I'd hope it was like Wilf in The Bash Street Kids but it is more likely to be something out of Bunty.

A change of pace

What a lovely day.

The weekend is here - nothing special planned and hopefully I will be popping down to Camelot HQ on Monday to pick up a big cardboard cheque rather than be sitting in front of an e-mail application.

What a great way to reject a meeting. " Sorry I'd love to attend but the Sun will be taking a photograph of me accepting a large cardboard cheque presented by a C-List celebrity at the time you have asked me to review your project plan. Rgds a bad man".

Back to reality, had a lovely evening walk and 30% was home in time to accompany me. Tyson is a little willful at the moment and I am guessing it is her hormones. A little troubling that she is charging off at present and ignoring shouts.whistles and claps to attract her attention and call her back. Typical Woman really - does what she wants, when she wants. I have obviously brought her up properly and Ms Greer and associates will be congratulating Tyson for her decision to take control of her life and not be constrained by the directions of a man she lives with chooses to share her life with..

Women's Rights for dogs. I never thought I'd reach that point when I started typing this entry. If any of this looks planned that is coincidence or good fortune. Elements of it may be loosely strung together when I am walking the dogs or stuck on the call from hell but a lot of the time I just start with a blank page and go for it.

Obviously with the weather so splendid at the moment I need to give another salute to my hat which is performing its fine weather duties of shielding my eyes and neck from the sun superbly. A brief nod to Stetson Hats - that's it end of product placement.

This entry is totally back to front as today started with me doing my normal morning routine plus knocking up a Rhubarb Compote - stewing a few Rhubarb stems - that Village Idiot dropped off last night. I love Rhubarb and VI had brought over a dozen or so stalks that he had liberated from a garden that he is supposed to be watering while its owner is away on their hols.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth these are now stewed in their own juices with a couple of desert spoons of sugar and are living in the fridge. They will go nicely with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or what ever else I can find in there. Easy, lovely and free.

A Thai curry for dinner accompanied by a Couple of Beers - Leffe Blonde - end of product placement and the weekend has truly started.

Dads & Daughters

I don't have a daughter, but my Dad does and he used to recite a rhyme; " A Son is a Son until he finds a wife But your Daughter is a Daughter for the rest of your life".

I suppose it is a commentary on the fact that sons tend to be less involved with their birth family once they marry and have one of their own whilst daughters tend to maintain a strong link with their birth family even after marriage.

Why do I type this? Maybe it is a way of recording something of my Dad. He has many sayings including the classic "You will lie in bed until the crows build a nest in your arse, and then you will wake and wonder how the sticks got there". I could go on at length, including the incredibly local "Oi Winchcombe put the wood in the 'ole!" which relates to a village near where he was born where the houses on the main street all had stable doors and the habit was to leave the top door open so that the passing world could be observed. The phrase is used now to refer to an individual who enters or leaves without closing the door.

He deserves a book rather than a Journal entry and I need to think long and hard before I attempt to put something worthy of him in here. He is a great Dad. He has his faults and failings and can be incredibly annoying at times but he is a great Dad and I need to do him justice. That is a good word because good and bad, something that reflect him in balance.

This week we finally sorted his birthday present. As I mentioned, a couple of days back, Dad has decided, 15 years after the loss of Patch, the family JRT, to have another dog. We - or rather 30% - has located the right breed, the right sex and the right colour and she will be ready literally days before his birthday. She is bred by Tyson's breeder so there is no concern over Puppy Farms or any of the many pitfalls of buying a dog nowadays. A deposit was sent off yesterday - by 30% - to reserve her and Dad was advised to only expect a card for the next 5 years or more.

You will note that 30% seemed to do much of this present sorting. Another of my Dad's sayings is "Why have a dog and bark yourself". For some reason I seem to have developed a sharp pain in my side. That would be 30% reading over my shoulder.

On the subject of dogs, Tyson has come in to her first season so we are excluded from Puppy Training for the next couple of weeks. It can be chaos with 14 or more puppies so imagine what the presence of a young bitch on heat would do!

Puppy class is on Tuesdays and Tyson's maturation was a perfect excuse not to go after a  long day with the customer. I did however manage to demonstrate a new level of meeting etiquette yesterday. I know that I stated that I don't write about work because it is not that interesting but this was mildly amusing.... after presenting to an assembled group for 3 hours I felt a little light headed and started to sweat profusely. I paused, and while the debate about delivery timescales progressed, I took my blood sugar with a portable kit that I carry. Hmm! 2.9 - no wonder I feel vague it should be 5 or slightly higher. That's being a diabetic and not having a break.

I closed my laptop, placed it in it bag and informed the meeting that I was diabetic, that my blood sugar had plummeted and that I needed to leave and eat adding that if I carried on I would make less sense than I had thus far.

That's one way to leave a meeting - especially when you are the lead speaker! Apparently it diffused the tension somewhat and stopped a productive session turning bad.

I'm guessing that its not a tactic that I can use on a regular basis though.

Any Sauces with those words Sir?

It is Godawful o'clock on Wednesday. Yes, I'm still rising early and I prefer any five that is involved in my waking time to be associated with minutes past rather than hours of the the clock!

On Sunday I mentioned that Tyson and Marauder were up for their Kennel Club Bronze award at Dog Training. They have come on really well but the challenge of remaining in a single position under the "STAY" command for a period of 1 minute was going to be very challenging, especially in a room full of dogs that they had never met before. About as much chance as Gazza* walking past a pub.

Well I'm eating my words because they both passed that, and all the other tests, and now have a certificate and rosette to declare their canine good citizenship. TP handles Marauder and it was great for him to have succeeded when a couple of more experienced adults didn't quite make the grade yesterday. I did point out that doing the L on the forehead Loser sign was not quite the appropriate etiquette at the class. I'll hastily add that this is fabricated and he behaved impeccably.

So, what was our secret? Well a good three mile walk and an hours training session meant that both dogs were pretty exhausted by the time they got to the test and a chance to sit or lie for a minute with the idiot handler stood 10 feet away shouting WAIT sternly seemed like an opportunity for a bit of a breather for T&M.

..... and there's more .... T&M, oh and TP and me too, have been invited to join a select group to give a Dog Training demonstration at the Summer Church Fayre in a local Market Town on Saturday.

Other stuff - I forgot to mention that the other bike was picked up on Monday and is having its carbs cleaned, new rubber and an MOT during the next week. TP is very keen on this as that bike has a pillion seat and he is now of the age where he can come out for a spin. He now has his eye on a set of Leathers that he has found on eBay.

-------------------------------------------

* Shame he didn't have either the looks or talent of George Best

Hopping Cats

Sunday, the traditional day of rest. Where did I go wrong?

A leisurely breakfast in the garden and then we got our collective arses in to gear; 30% hit the ironing mountain while I finished priming the woodwork in the kitchen and broke out the emulsion for the ceiling.

TP skulked off and plugged himself in to the XBox.

That pretty much tied up the bulk of the day until 30% and I broke off and took Tyson and Marauder off for a walk. Early on 30% spotted a clump of wild horseradish among the docks and we made a mental note to harvest a root of it later in the year.

Back to the dogs, T & M are now 9 and 7 months old respectively and are doing pretty well with the Dog Training. The are actually up for their Kennel Club Bronze certificate next Tuesday but I think they have the proverbial "cats chance" of getting it. One of the tests is to "stay" in a single position for 60 seconds in a room full of other young dogs. That's like expecting a Chav to walk past a chip shop or coke can in the gutter.

I digress. what I was getting round to was the fact that T&M now run off the lead for most of the walk. Now this has made me nervous because I expect them to rush off and maul children as Staffies are prone to do.... I should remind you that they are not Staffies and neither do I have an Engerland Vest nor a tendency to walk around Community Housing Projects looking like I have tennis balls shoved under my armpits.

No, I'm nervous because thus far they have not really noticed the multitude of rabbits that are now hopping about in the hedgerows. T&M are retrievers of birds by their breeding and this shows. They fix on a bird as soon as it launches skyward and they are absolutely hysterical as they career around the hay fields trying to catch the swallows that circle just above the long grass  catching insects for their broods.

I was worried that they would approach rabbits with the same vigour and end up racing half way across the county or getting themselves caught up in a barbed wire fence.

As 30% and I walked along a rabbit popped out and ran down the line of the hedge, T & M ran off after it but it was all very half hearted and there was no frantic investigation off the point where the bunny entered the hedge. It was at that point that I had my Eureka moment.

It suddenly dawned on me that Eddy is a three legged, grey tabby with no tail. So a rabbit in the distance tends to look and probably more importantly move very much like Eddy. No wonder the dogs are not overly enthusiastic about chasing rabbits. You should see the aggression they get from Eddy when they have chased him in the past. They probably think that the rabbits are crazed psychotics with paws equipped with the latest in ninja claws. Let's hope, for their sake, that the dogs never find out the truth.

I dont know how I find the time for work

Today sees Marauder off to the Dog Groomer for her first "grown up" hair cut. Tyson had hers done a couple of weeks back and went looking like a hearth rug and came back looking like a racing snake. Since then Marauder, who is normally the happiest dog in the village, has been moping around with a look that says "This haircut makes me look fat". With the weather allegedly warming up being clipped will make their lives more comfortable than they are at present although I find it hard to see how life could improve for two Staffies that have their every need anticipated and fulfilled.

30% and I are off work this week with the aim of decorating the kitchen. As this is our number one priority so far all we have managed to do is clear the room and looking at this morning's agenda I think it will be an early lunch before I start sanding.... Oh no it won't because I have to go and pick Marauder up at lunch time and then they will need a walk..... and so it goes on. Its a wonder we ever actually achieve anything.

I'm not kidding I'm pretty sure that this morning goes like this:-

1. Take "M" to Groomers
2. Go to Screwfix for sand paper (half sheet roll, 240 grit)
3. Go to B&Q to exchange the lights
4. Make a couple of batches of sausages
5. Decorate the Kitchen

Ah well - it is a good job that 30% is the patient type. Mind you she would be in hypocrisy corner if she wasn't as she did play a part in drafting this virtual list.

Yesterday I mentioned that I was tempted back to the Pub by the presence of a Ham Hock on its menu but that it seemed more a winter warmer than a seasonal dish suitable for a June evening.

Well it threw it down for most of yesterday and this morning I woke to a fog blanketing the High Street. Thank you weather, a trip is now planned to the Pub for supper this evening. Perhaps we were a bit premature in booking "M" in at the Salon.

There are two Pubs in the village; a picturesque half timbered place that sits by the village green and is deemed to be a lovely place to sit outside on a sunny evening, the other is 75 yards away and sits on the High Street. They are a bit like two sisters; seen separately both are quite pretty, but seen together.....

Now this is a shame because the Ugly Sister is not run by a sour faced, rake of a woman with the Customer Service skills of a 17 year old on a checkout at Matalan, it has plenty of space to sit and enjoy a meal or drink, does not deem it necessary to charge London prices for its drinks and actually serves very good food based on Monday's sampling.

So why does it change hands so often?  Before I get to that I probably need to point out that the Ugly Sister dates back to at least the 1500's has a Georgian Frontage and is all slate floors and beams inside.It is a lovely pub. The problem is that the Prettier Sister is just that, prettier still.

She sits on the Green slightly away from the main road and is chocolate box pretty and therefore a delight to sit outside in Summer and is snug in winter with a fire burning in the Inglenook. She also has a peculiar fame as it is alleged that she is the basis for a fictional pub and draws in quite a few visitors because of it.

Hence the pretty sister really knows how to work it and despite being cramped, expensive and serving only average comestibles gets the Lions share of the custom. I'm guessing that one is working on a repeat business model and the other on ripping off the "one time" visitor. At the moment it looks like superficiality is winning hands down.

Olga, Where are you when we need you?

You may remember that yesterday I suggested a new sport for the 2012 Olympics - on/off road dog boarding. Its got a lot of potential but it got me thinking as I perambulated round the lanes this evening.

How hard can modern rhythmic gymnastics really be?

You've seen them. The girl with the ribbon on the end of the stick, the one with the ball. As Tyson and Marauder charged about on their extending leads dashing from one side to the other enticed by a variety of rural scents and equine presents I was performing a merry dance to make sure that they did not get tangled.

And that's when it hit me. Modern Rhythmic Gymnastics is all about years of dedication, intense training, performance enhancing drugs, synthetic hormones to defer sexual maturity and a lot of shouting from a Communist "Woman" who is harder than your Dad.

There's no reaction or spontaneity and there is only one sticky ribbon thingy - give 'em a couple of Staffies on extending leads with a load of rural odours permeating the mats and lets see how bloody artistic they are then.

Anyway, where was I going to?

Yesterday I wittered on about stuff including the Prius and the Vespa so today I thought I'd continue mining that vein.

Before I do that though I need to mention a (or possibly "the") reader who has contacted me directly about members of the Arachnid Special Forces. Apparently she claims to have given several members of this Secret Service blow jobs. Now before you start conjuring up images of Sean Connery reclining with a foxy vixen who is about to switch political allegiances - THINK AGAIN! This heinous individual uses the hoover to eliminate Agents of ASF. I think my stand point on Spy ders is pretty clear - embrace them, name them, encourage them in to your family for, and I'm guessing here, all they do is study us in the way we tend to study other species on planet Earth. Imagine the Spy der Discovery Channel - you could be the subject of "How Other Species Reproduce"

Right - sorry - back to the Prius......

Many, many years ago I used to work for an enlightened employer. Enlightened in the way that an 18 year old with Daddy's Gold Card is enlightened. So when they decided to give me a company car I looked at my month allowance and said "Your Kidding" and logged straight on to the BMW web site. I now work down at Dante's Nine Circles of Hell and, funnily enough, when I looked at my company car allowance I said exactly the same thing and then Googled the performance stats of a Kia Cee'd.

To cut a long story short I eventually decided to take the cash and invest in the Prius. Now the Prius may not be the most economical vehicle on the planet but I justify it to my Green Ideals by pointing out that a new 3 Series is going to have one hell of a carbon footprint when it rolls off the line plus the fact that I frequently work from home thereby avoiding a 40+ mile round trip. At this rate, if I save any more carbon, we'll be in to another Ice Age.

Also, buying a second hand car is recycling. The more I think about this the more the huge amount of snow in January starts to make sense. I'm starting to think that if my personal impact on reducing global warming increases further I will have to have a chat with the Guys in the Lab about recreating the Mammoth as well as the Shetland Giraffe.

So I went and bought myself a used Prius and I love it. Now I'm guessing that these words have never been assembled in that order in a single sentence before. Yep a first in the bad man's journal.

Remember that I have a penchant for aliases and mild irony. It isn't a Prius. After all who would want to drive a car that may accelerate wildly without warning. That's one hell of a User Notice to have engraved across the steering wheel and makes the "objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear" seem a perfectly understandable piece of advice.

My choice of vehicle - I'll leave you to guess. It is immensely practical, it is not conventionally beautiful but it has a certain presence. It could be described as utilitarian and the kids seem to love it...

..... its a Mr Whippy Ice Cream Van.

The e-mail generation

Today started with a degree of Mnghh!

Its that feeling that is neither apprehension nor dread, Neither reluctance nor disinclination but a feeling of mild aversion combined with a knowledge that there are things that must be done.

Basically there is something that I have been assigned by one of the Lesser Demons down at Dante's. I have done the necessary thinking about it and I've even knocked up a couple of sketches but I now need to document it formally and send out to vaguely disinterested parties.

Hence today started with a degree of Mnghh!

I wish my day started like Marauder's seem to start. Marauder loves her bed and she likes to wake slowly. She will spend several minutes just squirming with the delight of being a dog and knowing that today is going to be pretty much exactly like yesterday. You can see a grin appear on her face and she positively wriggles as she realises that the agenda includes playing with Sell-by-Date and Tyson, threatening behaviour towards the chickens, chasing TP, eating a variety of delicacies including horse shit and possibly chicken feathers, a nice long walk during the bad man's lunch break followed by a number of naps including at least one on the premium spot on her favourite sofa.

Her expression shows that her world really cant get any better. I wish I felt like that when I wake up.

Now don't get me wrong, I tend to wake and feel pretty good about my world. But compared to Marauder I am a rank amateur about feeling good. She makes the happy people that you see in the world of TV advertising - You know the ones - unbelievably smug and happy and cheesy - seem positively suicidal - She really knows how to start the day feeling GOOD.

Before today's activities a quick review of yesterday. It went well. A few pints of homemade Pea and Ham soup are now residing in the freezer and there is enough of the garage floor clear to warrant sweeping it. In fact, there was enough space that TP's bike was upended had it's puncture repaired.

This evening has seen TP and I load up the "eco wagon" or "Prius" as she will be known and take a visit to the local Refuse Site thus opening up a whole new swathe of garage floor.

I am hoping that this improvement in the condition of the lawn mower's quarters will get Amnesty International off my back. I have replied to their letter advising that it is not "incarceration without trial" but "protective custody" as the village newsletter has indicated an upturn in the number of shed thefts. Their initial response is not encouraging !

Right - I'm getting to the e-mail generation but I needed a bit of padding before I started on them. Don't worry - all will become apparent in a minute.

As I said, the day started with a feeling of Mnghh but I knuckled down and turned my sketches in to clear illustrations, embedded them in to an e-mail with concise but informative thoughts and dispatched it to the appropriate recipients / victims.

As is generally the case, it went a whole lot better than expected and I again wondered why it is human nature to procrastinate.

Anyway this leads me to my classification of certain people as "the e-mail generation". They can be defined as individuals who are generally under the age of 35 and consequently have grown up with computers in general and e-mail in particular.

The phrase e-mail generation sums up their capacity to take in information. Basically if it cannot be presented in the preview panel of an e-mail application then don't bother. They don't have the mental capacity to take in anything that cannot be described in a couple of sentences. Forget paragraphs or embedded documents. these references will cause paralysis of the mouse hand and a complete inability to use the scroll bars or the little wheel that they now install on mouses.

The reason I cover the subject referenced in the title of this blog so late in the text is because the e-mail generation will have gone away to gaze at their navels on Facebook or MySpace by now.

My role in Dante's Nine Circles of Hell involves quite complex technical elements and often you need to write several pages with cross references and diagrams to get the full picture across. So you can imagine how bloody frustrated I get when a member of the e-mail generation wants a chat about it but isn't willing to engage any mental gears because their thought capacities are filled with the need to change their relationship status on Facebook and their work related plans for a whole new circle of Hell.

I have had situations where I have had to read documents to people and I'm sure they are not illiterate - bone idle - but not illiterate.

Anyway - my impact analysis was issued and one of the recipients has actually read it and agreed with my logic - a whoohoo moment. Unfortunately the actual "Doers" have not bothered to respond yet and I have a feeling of dread as my ability to look in to the future kicks in and I see several conference calls repeatedly explaining the complex to the e-mail generation.

I think the Toner is running out.

Saturday Morning, the start of a long weekend.

Its funny how you feel differently about a day when you get up at a time of your own choice rather than a time dictated by Dante's Nine Circles of Hell or the need to prepare TPs lunchbox before the School Bus leaves. Everything is much more mellow when you are in control of the agenda.

My morning routine is pretty similar whether it is a School Day or a holiday with the exception of making aforementioned packed lunch. I still have to let Tyson and Marauder out, feed and water the chickens and pour a number of double espressos down my neck.

It is odd though that Potato and Eddy also know it is Saturday and are having a lie-in too. Normally Potato is most insistent that I, as Domestic Staff, serve his breakfast before I do anything else in the morning. Today however they are both curled up together and have indicated that I can bring up the papers (ironed of course) and coffee an hour later than usual.

I should point out that Sell-by-date, now in his dotage, is not an early riser and usually waits until around 11 before indicating that he needs to go out and empty his bowels. He is a martyr to his bowels and if you are stupid enough to wade in to a conversation with him about them don't say I didn't warn you. You should know the warning signs by now since you must have as many aged relatives as I do - Ones who have lost all inhibitions and lack anything remotely interesting in their life so will tell you about polyps and unnatural secretions. RUN AWAY!

A true story - A few weeks back I was walking Tyson and Marauder and I bumped in to a fellow dog walker. I know her well enough to chat to and have recently learnt her name having known her dogs' names for much longer. This is the way of dog walking that it is often that you know someone by their dog's name!

Anyway, I asked her how she was as I hadn't seen her for a while and she told me that she hadn't been walking recently as a result of having her haemorrhoids removed - FOR GODS SAKE! I hardly know the woman and she is talking about her Bum Grapes. Puts fingers in ears and sings La, La, La!

Where was I - Saturday Morning - now that I have constructed the Maginot Line T& M can assist when I let the chickens out. They carry out the morning patrol of the coops with great enthusiasm and prowl the runs like Camp Guards looking for the entrances to "Tom, Dick & Harry". I thought I had heard the chink of an enamel mug against a bed frame a couple of times recently but its probably my mind playing tricks.

I collected the eggs and found this .....

...... Looks like one of the hens is running low on ink. I'm sure I reset the egg count when I did the last install but cant remember seeing a "Low Ink alert" recently. Good job we are off in to town this morning as egg receipts are going to be down this week with produce looking like this.

Now what type of toner cartridge does a chicken take and can I persuade 30% to install it?

Postie came - usual stuff - bills, election pamphlets and a letter from Amnesty International. Apparently the readership of this blog is broader than I thought and they are gravely concerned about the plight of the lawn mower. Apparently I am guilty of incarceration without trial, enforced labour and failure to adequately meet it's nutritional and health care needs.

Its a good job they don't know what happened to the Strimmer!

Does my dog need an alias?

Its obvious that I am new to the world of blogging and, to be honest, I made a decision a long time ago that I didn't really fancy having an internet presence.

I don't really get the Social Networking concept. Mind you I suppose I could well be veering towards hypocrisy with a blog. I justify this to myself by saying it is "one-way" and that it is just a way of brain dumping. If that is the case why have I installed a visitor stats counter?

Anyway, to the point of the post - when I say "point" we are talking "last pencil in the box, where the hell is the sharpener or Stanley knife" - just so you don't start expecting incisive journalism here,

It was a friend /colleague that suggested I blog saying that it was a way of dealing with the "stuff" that accumulates. A while back my Other Half or Other 30% as I'm sure she would like to be known also suggested that I write this stuff down - mind you that was probably so she didn't have to listen to it first thing in the morning - she is an owl - I'm a lark.

I'm getting there - don't be inpatient - aliases - The few blogs I have read all use aliases for quite understandable reasons. The name I ramble on under was suggested for me by Golfy when I suggested a couple of varieties of coffee for him to try. It has no relevance to the content or to me really other than being a label.

A while back I was walking the dogs and I bumped in to a fellow dog walker with a deaf Dalmatian called Marley. He was genetically deaf and she used hand signals as commands for sit, here, stay etc. It all worked very well and I asked why the dog had a name. As most people tend to use the dogs name to get its attention before giving it a command. Marley seemed a total irrelevance. She agreed and advised that sometimes she introduced him using a random name, often Geoff.

So - do my dogs need aliases. Probably, as they are bound to get a mention here as they are part of my world. Lets say I have two straining Staffies called Tyson and Marauder. I don't but it will help preserve our privacy - as does the low stat count on this blog.

Another alias that my "frolleagues" use is Starfleet for our employer. I'm not sure about this alias I think I would have seen Dante's Nine Circles of Hell as a more accurate description although perhaps it is a little too close to the truth.

Anyway another individual who needs an alias is "the progeny" and that will do - perhaps TP for short.

TP and I have been taking Tyson and Marauder to a local Kennel Club Puppy Training Class for a few months and Marauder, ably handled by TP, received her Puppy Foundation Assessment yesterday so next steps will hopefully be a promotion to the next class and a Kennel Club Bronze Award.

So that's about it for today - establishing a few lables for some of the family members and parts of my world