TP's Grand Day out

This morning I headed off fairly early for an appointment at one of the local hospitals.

I took the Honda and had a great ride in through the countryside. My choice of conveyance also had the added advantage that I was excused parking fees at my destination. The appointment was to get yet another assessment on an ongoing problem I have had with my hip / pelvis. I have been suffering with pain ranging from a constant dull ache to excruciating twinges for more than three years and have had real problems getting the Health Service to engage.

I have had a range of diagnoses ranging from "Your X-ray doesn't show any problem"* to "it may be a problem with your sacroiliac joint". I have also had a range of treatment options ranging from nothing through to non-prescription anti-inflammatories and sessions of physiotherapy with a very pleasant chap called Nigel.

None of these have made an iota of difference and after yet another visit to my GP I finally got a referral for today's appointment with an Orthopaedic Practitioner.  We spent the first the minutes of the consultation discussing the history of my condition and then I was prodded, manipulated and made to perform a variety of exercises.

Eventually I was allowed to put my clothes back on and was given his preliminary diagnosis. His view is that it could be one of two problems: an arthritic hip** or possibly a tear to the cartilage that supports and holds the head of the femur in the hip socket. The next step is an MRI scan, but he doubts that the Worcestershire Health Authority approved device has the resolution to give a diagnosis of the latter.

I left feeling somewhat more optimistic as at least something was being done but was somewhat frustrated by the irony that, on the first consultation, I stated that I had a problem with my hip and was told that it didn't seem like a hip problem.  Three years later I am back to square one.

On the work front I was quite busy and had an interesting conversation with a Director who couldn't manage to read and understand a six line e-mail. He seemed surprised when I responded to his totally inaccurate snottagram with a reply to the same group pointing out how wrong he was and re-stating the two lines that he had failed to read.

He obviously didn't like my response, so decided to call and was somewhat gobsmacked when I didn't take his comments lying down and pointed out that he clearly didn't know what he was talking about and that he wasn't actually helping to clear the road block.  I also pointed out that none of the other recipients had had any problem understanding the six lines of text and that I had also had a follow-on 'phone call with the action owner to ensure that the matter was being progressed.

By this time I was pretty fucked off with the fucking idiot so then asked him "if we had a problem". The stupid bastard finally got the message, backed down and apologised. What a fucking twat!

To finish on a slightly more positive note; TP attended the first day of his Direct Access Motorcycle Training Course today. After a year of riding around on a 125 cc bike he was allowed to ride around the countryside on a 500cc Suzuki. He arrived home absolutely shattered but advised that he had had a fantastic day. He had learnt a lot and had been assessed right up at the top of the group.

The only problem is that he now realises how bad his little Yamaha is and doesn't want to ride it anymore ...

... I may have to start hiding my bike keys.

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*  I swear I will never ever have a consultation with a fresh out of college hospital again. He was about to send me on my way and seemed surprised when I pointed out that he had only excluded a problem with the bones and asked about a soft tissue problem ... useless fucker
** But, in his words, I am surprisingly young for that condition

More bees than I thought

The lawn had dried off sufficiently after yesterday's downpour, so this afternoon I dragged out the mower and gave it a trim.

As I was mowing close to one of the edges of the lawn I noticed a bumblebee fly up from the turf, closely followed by another.  I looked down and saw a hole in the ground of about the same diameter as one's thumb. As I watched yet another bee emerged. Clearly we have a bumblebee colony in the garden as well as our honey bees.

I am delighted to have a colony of bumbles in the garden as their population has declined due to habitat loss, so it is encouraging to see that our garden provides a suitable refuge.

On the work front I was reasonably busy. The morning was taken up with minuting and planning the latest project I have picked up. During the morning I was also notified that our customer had issued an RFI with a very short turn around time; consequently the afternoon was consumed by a  call to assign actions to owners and collectively panic ...

... It looks like I'll be quite busy over the next couple of weeks

Work Life Balance

With very little on my plate at work this week, it was easy to keep this morning free to take the Honda in for her MOT.

I hadn't ridden her for the best part of a year and was looking forward to the short ride over to the workshop. She fired up at the first touch of the starter button and within a few minutes her temperature gauge had started to climb.  I put on my gloves, eased* my leg over the saddle and headed off down the road.

She is a completely different beast to the Enfields; with an engine and frame that just wants to eat up the road. She may be twenty one years old, but she still looks and drives like she had just rolled out of the showroom for the first time.  I had forgotten what a lovely ride she is and took a somewhat extended route to the workshop which included a marvellous set of bends and a short stretch of Dual Carriageway.

The chaps at the workshop were busy drinking coffee and chewing the fat,** so I left the keys with them and headed over the road to the cafe to wait ...

...Half an hour later she was wheeled back in to the sunshine and I headed over to collect the certificate, pay my dues and head home.

I returned to find that my my inbox was reminiscent of Mother Hubbard's cupboard, so wandered back out to the garage and replaced the perished rubber cable holders on The Shitter.

In the afternoon I actually had some proper work to do and attended a kick-off call for a new project. The Sales Guys spouted interesting facts interspersed with complete nonsense.  I listened carefully, took copious notes and stifled the sniggers at some of their more ludicrous claims ...

...  Don't get me wrong; this is an interesting piece of work but it has far more complexity than was presented today.

As the working day ended I headed out in to the garden ad contemplated mowing the lawn.  As stood there gazing over the tussled turf a large drop of water plopped in front of me. Within seconds we had the most torrential downpour that lasted the best part of an hour.

I didn't need to do any watering this evening either.

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* Note: "eased" rather than "threw" ... it appears that I have a dodgy sacroiliac joint at the root of some long term discomfort.
** Both metaphorically and literally, as the nearby cafe does great bacon sandwiches

Busy, but doing what?

Tuesday was one of those days when I seemed to be busy all day, but cannot, for the life of me, work out why.

My principal accomplishment was finishing the documentation of my achievements for my mid-year performance assessment. Other than that, I cannot recall anything of any significance. I had a few hours of mundane calls. I also had a pleasant chat with a friend and colleague who I am likely to be partnering with on an upcoming "whale" of an opportunity ... unless I can engineer a move to a new role.

Away from work I did little more than shuffle the bikes in the garage; relocating the Honda to the front, as I will be taking her in for her MOT first thing tomorrow morning.

By the time the clock struck five I was absolutely shattered  and actually retired to my bed for an hour.  I hadn't had a great night's sleep and I'm not sure whether it was lack of sleep, combined with antihistamines and hot and humid weather, but I could barely keep my eyes open.

Needless to say the evening was not one of frenetic activity.

It's that time of year ...

That was the title of the email from my Boss at the top of my inbox this morning.  Oh Joy, we are at the six month point in the Staff Appraisal Calendar and I am due to submit my mid-year achievements.

I still get a feeling of dread at having to do this, which is, no doubt, a hang over from my period of servitude at Dante's Nine Circles of Hell.  30%  has worked for the Neat & Tidy Piano Movers for twenty seven years and tells me that their approach to staff appraisal is very different.  However, I still get somewhat stressed by the process, despite the fact that I received a top rating last year.

Perhaps it is as a result of my recent decision to seek a new role at the Piano Movers because, today, I have decided to take a more relaxed approach to documenting my accomplishments ...

...  Basically I have gone in to last years appraisal and copied and pasted my 2015 results in for 2016. All I need to do now is review, update the names of the various opportunities and modify the text as necessary.

This occupied the bulk of the morning but the result looks great.

At lunchtime I rewarded myself with a short spell in the garage and replaced the perished rubber strap that secures the rear of the Shitter's petrol tank,

Late in the afternoon I had a call with my Boss and a Sales AVP about some upcoming work that I consider a poison chalice if ever there was one.

This "opportunity", or rather the lack of leadership, skills and process needed to do a god job are some of the main reasons I am seeking a new role. I have also had a look at the financials and am not sure that my role, or any other role will exist in the Brave New World  they are proposing.*

The discussion was interesting and I learnt that much of what the Sales AVP had been spouting for the past few weeks had been complete horse shit. It was also apparent that they have taken steps to assign another Solution Lead for me to team with. This suggest that a) they are preparing for my departure from the account** and b) my responsibilities will be virtually non-existent from what I heard today.

At the end of the call I decided that I had definitely had enough and wandered out to spend a few minutes watering the new turf in the glorious sunshine. As the clock struck five 30% joined me and we headed out to the front of the house and planted up the raised bed with Marigolds, Begonias and Alyssum.

The planting adds a real splash of vibrant colour to  the House and Road and they should give a splendid display over the Summer. I watered them in as 30% prepared dinner and then we headed off to Dog Training with Whiffler.

This evening a good proportion of the class was held in the field outside the Village Hall and Whiffler did really well. He was very good at ignoring the distractions out in the field, which is a bloody miracle for him.  He was also superb at running down the long tunnel, which many of the other dogs were put off by.  He even made progress with the fiendishly difficult*** "send away to a box containing a treat" exercise.

The other news from today is that 30% has signed us up for an Exercise Programme: Part of my brain tells me that this is a very good idea. Another part of my brain has massive misgivings.

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* The Customer will have no-one to shout at when it all goes tits up
** I haven't even had an interview for a new job yet
*** for him!

Great Intentions

30% and I had great intentions for today.

I must admit that I thought we were biting off more than we could chew but even I was surprised by how far were were from our target by the end of the day.

We started off well and shortly after nine o'clock we were outside the house weeding and digging over the raised bed.  The weeding wasn't hard work but the bed was bone dry: digging it over and breaking up the clods raised a sweat and I was grateful for a coffee as I reached the end.

At this point we realised that were would not get it planted today, as it would need soaking and raking before the tilth was suitable for planting. By eleven o'clock our plans had already been revised.

30% had arranged to meet up with her brother, the ELF and their new baby at a local craft centre* for lunch so our aborting the planting session gave us ample time to clean up and head out in to the wilds of Worcestershire. Despite my extreme reservations about the venue, we had a lovely time catching up with the three of them and eventually I was given an ice-cream to stop me from moaning.

After a couple of hours we headed home and it was time for this week's inspection of the hive. The weather was hot and sunny and I found it a real challenge to keep my glasses on my nose inside a bee suit with sweat dripping from my brow.

The hive looked very good and the Super is now virtually clear of the brood that the Queen laid up there before I put the Excluder in place. The workers are starting to cap off the cells of honey and things seen to be progressing well. The Super still has a couple of frames of undrawn foundation at each end of the box so they bees have ample space at present.

We then dived in to the brood box and, again, all looked well in there. There was plenty of capped brood and larvae, but I had no chance of seeing eggs with my spectacles sliding of the end of my nose. We also failed to spot the Queen on this occasion despite going through the frames twice.

I know I should not be worried by not seeing the queen as the presence of larvae shows that she has been in the hive in the past few days but it is reassuring to know that she is there and hasn't come to harm before or during the inspection.

Feeling hot and somewhat frustrated we closed up the hive and retired for a cool drink. 30% and I had great plans to continue our work on the bed of brambles and perhaps make another visit to the Tip, but it was way too hot and we were both incredibly tired so the remainder of the afternoon was spent on light duties in the house and garden.

We agreed that the flower bed can get planted one evening in the week and there is always next weekend for a visit to the Tip.

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* A few days back I commented that I was not a fan of Food Festivals. Well, I feel exactly the same, possibly more so, about Craft Fairs: Craft Centres are the worst possible combination of these two tedious events with a smattering of piss poor garden centre to complete the ordeal.

I bloody loathe these places as they clearly operate on a business model of selling people something they clearly do not want. I swear they are frequented by menopausal women towing along their incontinent parents, purchasing gifts for people who have got more sense than to visit these establishments in the first place.

There is a clear difference between a present and a gift. A present is something that you want and need and gift is something that you don't.  These places are filled with prettily arranged gifts at extraordinary prices and I could not see a single fucking item that I would want at any point in my life.

Saturday stuff

I have to start this Journal entry by admitting that we have been harbouring a criminal here at The Pile for the past few days. 30% is the ne'er do well in question, having received a speeding ticket a couple of days back ...

..."Yes Officer, I appreciate that the speed limits are in place to ensure the safety of other road users and pedestrians, but the irony is that 30% generally drives like a Nun and has the nickname Sister Maria Theresa of the immaculate contraption."

It is also ironic that I was a passenger with her at the time and remember thinking that I wouldn't have taken her selected route as it was convoluted and included four speeding cameras ... perhaps I should have mentioned that at the time?

On the subject of legality and the road: the first activity of the day was to see if the Birthday Bullet could be persuaded to start, so that it could be taken for it's MOT test.

The battery seemed to have been resurrected by its connection to a trickle charger and it was a few minutes work to get it re-fitted to the bike. I sat astride the bike, flipped up the side stand and hit the starter button. I was rewarded immediately with the thud thud thud of the 500cc motor with it's Goldie exhaust.

I threw on a helmet and jacket and took her for a quick run down to the local petrol station to fill her up and all seemed well with the bike, so I was hopeful of a smooth passage through the test.

As eleven o'clock drew near I headed over to the workshop, dropped off the bike and key and chatted with the owner before retiring to an adjacent cafe for a coffee and a bacon sandwich. After a very comfortable wait I wandered back to receive the verdict.

The bike had passed and was the subject of much examination by a chap who had been hanging around in the workshop ... He advised that he was the original owner of the bike back in 2009.  This was quite a coincidence as he has sold the bike way up North towards the borders of Scotland. It was 30% who had located it on a website, purchased it as a birthday present and brought it back to a few miles from its original home.

The afternoon was a much quieter affair. 30% and I headed in to Stratford for a few essentials and returned via the local Nursery where we selected bedding plants for the large, stone raised bed at the front of the house.

We had great intentions to weed and plant the bed, but instead both crashed and took a siesta instead.

Well,  It is the weekend!

Sod work; it's the weekend!

By midday on Friday I had discussed the costs of the escalated project with the Pricer.  She had developed and released the pricing and I had bundled this with appropriate caveats and assumptions* before sending it off to the Sales Team.  That meant that I had nothing else that needed to be completed at work today.

I therefore headed out to the garage, uncovered the Birthday Bullet** and wheeled her out in to the sunshine.  I had her booked in for her MOT on the fourth of June and needed to make sure that she would start.  Initially all looked well; The warning lights all illuminated and the fuel pump whirred, but then I noticed petrol dripping from a perished fuel pipe. This wasn't a good sign but I thought I would still see if she would fire up.

I pressed the starter button and the motor turned over once and then there was nothing: Despite having a trickle charger on over Winter the battery was not in good shape.  I therefore resorted to Plan B and uncovered the Honda.  She was much more cooperative and within a few minutes was purring out on the drive. At leas I  now had a bike to take in for a test tomorrow.

I then returned to the Bullet and removed the battery. That was when I noticed that the electrolyte level in the cells was low. I soon had the battery topped up and  connected to a charger ... fingers crossed that it will charge over night.

My mind then turned to the perished fuel pipe. This was not the first rubber component that had deteriorated in the garage over the Winter.  I had previously noticed that The Shitter had several rubber fasteners that had perished and all were all less than two years old.  I therefore spent a few minutes on the 'phone to Hitchcocks Motorcycles and can report that a packet of rubbers*** is now winging its way in my direction.

There was nothing more that I could do to the bikes so I returned to my desk and clock-watched until it was acceptable to log-off ... for some of my colleagues this is, apparently around lunchtime on Thursday.

I then headed over to the Littleton Auction Rooms to view the lots in tomorrow's sale.  I rode over on the Shitter and the ride pressed home what a super little machine she has turned out to be. The bike is small, light and not particularly powerful. It is therefore ideal for bimbling around the lanes.

She drew quite some attention in the car park and I was accosted by a fellow motorcyclist, who described her as "absolutely stunning".  It is very gratifying to have one's work appreciated.

The day finished with a Chinese Takeaway, a large Gin and Tonic and an evening in front of the television. The weekend has finally arrived.

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* Unfortunately they never read them ... I even tell them to read them when I send out the pricing!
** 30%'s gift on my fiftieth birthday.
*** Fnarr fnarr!

Some excitement at the hive

Today was the first of my motorcycles MOT tests, so The Shitter was dragged from the garage and ridden over to the local workshop. 30% made herself and the Audi available to get me home and by quarter past nine we were both sat at our laptops having the most extraordinary fun.

The day rumbled on in the usual fashion and at around three o'clock the missing costs for the escalated project finally arrived. I then spent a happy couple of hours trawling through these to make sure that a) I understood them and b) that they actually added up to what they were supposed to.

They all looked good so my cost model was updated and fired over to the pricing team with a request for this to be turned around as quickly as possible.  I also arranged a call with our Pricer* to talk her through the costs which will, hopefully, ensure a smooth transit through the pricing process.

I had now done everything I possibly could to support the escalated project and wandered out to enjoy the garden. I must have been feeling keen,  as the lawn mower was dragged from the shed and I was soon running up and down trimming the sward. The new turf has grown beautifully, so I raised the height of the blade and ran the mower across the new areas of lawn for the first time. With the lawn looking almost manicured I wandered in for dinner.

That just about covers the day's events apart from a period of excitement in the afternoon ...

... At around two o'clock I looked out at the hive and was amazed at what I saw. There were literally hundreds of bees flying in front of the hive. We are used to the coming and going of the foraging bees that are out seeking nectar and pollen, but this was something completely different.  It didn't look like swarming behaviour and I wondered if the hive was being robbed by another colony. I watched the entrance for a while but I could see nothing that suggested that foreign bees were trying to get in to the hive.

This photo doesn't do justice to the activity actually witnessed

All I could see were hundreds of bees dancing in the air in front of the hive. I wandered back inside and made a quick search on the Internet and discovered that I was most likely witnessing orientation flights. Once a worker bee hatches it initially remains in the hive and carries out "housekeeping" duties such as caring for the Queen, eggs and brood and tending the stores. Later in their short life they emerge from the hive and become foragers.

Foraging workers returning

What I was witnessing was these new foragers taking their first flight and learning the various cues that will allow them to return safely to the hive.

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* Little Miss Sunshine: I am certain that I have had a minor rant about this brown nosed, talentless cow who seems to think that she is a couple of grades above her actual position in the organisation. I will re-state that she has neither the intellectual, nor the managerial skills to do her own job let alone the one she seems to think she should have.

She wasn't abandoned at the workshop

Don't worry, the Shitter wasn't abandoned at the workshop.

30% and I found a mutually convenient slot mid afternoon to go and collect her from the workshop. She had passed with "no advisories" and is good for another twelve months. Whilst paying for the test I got the next bike booked in for its test and it looks like I will be back there again on Saturday morning.

Coasting

Well this week is dragging its heels.

With only four working days this week; I had expected it to be Thursday by now. Unfortunately that is not the case. I have almost, but not quite enough, to keep me busy at the moment and consequently my mind wanders to what I could be doing instead.

The weather is not particularly pleasant, in fact it is bloody cold for the beginning of June,  so I don't feel inclined to head out in to the garden, but neither do I feel inclined to endure the ordeal that is on-line training courses.

As a result, the day hasn't exactly raced by as I have stepped in to support floundering projects and provided detailed guidance to individuals that want to kick off new activities.  I haven't been swinging the lead: I just haven't been rushed off my feet either.

The start of a short working week.

I'm not sure what to recount for today, as the most exiting thing that happened was that the Postman* visited us on four occasions before the clock had struck midday.

I also managed to arrive fashionably late for a conference call that I was hosting and finally got, shall we say, "assertive' with the escalated project ...

...   Having explained, for the umpteenth time, why we were unlikely to be able to be able to deliver earlier,  I was asked "why are we so late with this?" After considering my options I decided to go with blunt and to the point. My reply was thus: "Basically because my team was not engaged to develop a solution until after the actual deadline for delivery to the customer had passed."

I followed this up with a few pieces of cast iron evidence to back up my statement and, funnily enough, I didn't hear anything after that.

In view of the fact that it was a quiet day I have decided to go with a photograph from last year's trip to America. Here are the Pier 39 Sea lions basking in the afternoon sun. These bathing beauties draw a huge crowd of onlookers as they bask within a few meters of the shops and restaurants of Fisherman's Wharf. Apparently their numbers can exceed one thousand on occasions but there was probably only sixty or seventy when we were there.

A Masterclass in the Afternoon Siesta

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* Now that I am in my sixth decade "Postman" is a generic term used for absolutely any individual, of either sex, involved in the delivery of mail or packages to our front door. I cannot be arsed to distinguish between The Royal Mail,  Parcelforce, DPD, Hermes or any of the other Companies that make the dogs bark when I am on a conference call.

Problem Areas in the Garden

If yesterday was relaxing today was most definitely not ...

...  First let me set the scene; at the end of the garage there is an open area that is the perfect size and shape for parking one of the cars. At the moment this area is piled high with enormous stone blocks that were excavated when we had the wall at the front of the house rebuilt last year. At the back of this hardstanding is a raised area of about eight square meters that is covered with brambles and ivy.

The ultimate plan is to use the stone blocks to create a stone wall to border two sides of the hardstanding and then to have the area paved.  The plan for today was to make a start on clearing the brambles and ivy so that the site is sufficiently clear for Tradespersons to be able come in and quote for the wall and paving. We also want to clear the hidden strip of adjoining land that runs behind the garage.*

First thing this morning** 30% and I went out and hitched the trailer to the Land Rover. We then started by loading my "Tip Pile"*** in to the trailer. This barely filled the trailer half full, so secateurs and tree loppers were brought out and we made a start on the brambles and ivy.

I was on cutting duties and 30% was loading the ivy in to the trailer and the brambles in to the garden waste bins. After about an hour 30% went off to make coffee whilst I continued to hack a path towards the back of the garage. I kid you not, it was like an Explorer clearing a path through darkest African forest.

30% returned  with coffee and I eventually emerged from the the undergrowth. After taking a break 30% suggested that we headed over to the Tip.  I went to inspect the trailer and was amazed to see it piled high. I was under the impression that we hadn't made much of a dent and was, instead, presented with a large heap of green debris. The load was securely tied and we headed off to dispose of the debris.

Upon our return, we lunched and then headed off for a walk with the dogs.

It was then a case of back to the grindstone and we assaulted the jungle once more. We eventually gave up at around six o'clock and could actually see that progress had been made ...

... But there are going to be a few more back breaking days and trips to the tip before we are in a position to bring in hired hands to start walling and paving.

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* It should be noted that, at no point in this narrative, have I mentioned the "Kindling Pile" ... [WARNING: Rant Mode Engaged]

... A few years ago a "friend" advised that they had collected some pallet wood from their place of work and wondered if we wanted it for kindling. Feeling somewhat obligated, we accepted the offer and ended up collecting an ENORMOUS pile of wood.

My view was that we didn't really need it because I can always find a few sticks to light a fire and, worst case, I can always track down a pallet and attach it with a chainsaw. I most definitely did not need about six pallets worth of kindling.

To make matters worse, 30% and TP attempted to stack the aforementioned pile of wood behind the garage and their "stack" looked more like an exploded windmill. As a consequence I had to deconstruct their fucking mess, re-stack it and get a tarpaulin to cover it.

As previously stated " I can always find a few sticks to light a fire' so this bloody stack has sat there, untouched, for God Knows how fucking long.

So, now I have to dismantle it once more and take it to the bloody tip. [Rant mode disengaged]

** Well, as close to "first thing" as you get on a Bank Holiday and probably closer to ten o'clock

*** General Garden detritus that is too large for disposal by other means. Consequently it is collected and stored until such time that I can be arsed to go to the tip.

A sunny Sunday in the garden

Sunday morning was taken at a leisurely pace and involved an extended  period of coffee drinking and pottering.

As ten o'clock approached 30% headed on to town for a few essentials and TP* surfaced from his lair and started assemble a rather sophisticated breakfast of coffee, croissant and scrambled eggs.  Once sufficient caffeine had hit his blood stream I engaged him in basic conversation. I informed him that I planned to do an inspection of the hive and asked if he wanted to join me. He agreed with an amazing level of enthusiasm for a nineteen year old who had only been awake for twenty five minutes.**

Once breakfasted TP was quickly dressed and we were soon wafting puffs of smoke at the entrance of the hive...

... I must have been distracted when I reassembled the hive last week as I had put the crown board on upside down and the frames in the Super were perpendicular to those in the Brood Box rather than parallel.

This hadn't seemed to have affected the colony at all and the frames looked marvellous. Last week I had noticed that I had young larvae up in the Super and was working on the assumption that the Queen had made her way up there, before I had installed the Queen Excluder, and laid in the freshly drawn foundation.  The larvae cells were now all capped and there was no sign of fresh eggs or larvae. This suggests that my assumption was correct. All being well the larvae will hatch in a week or so leave the cells available for honey production.

The brood box below the queen excluder was also looking very healthy with masses of capped brood and stores of pollen and honey. We saw the Queen working her way across an empty frame, obviously busy laying. Reassured that all was well, the hive was reassembled ... with the Super and Crown Board on the right way this time.

In the afternoon BMS and SMS*** joined us for afternoon team and we spent several hours sat in the garden catching up on each others' news.

Today had been far less busy than yesterday and it was great to simply relax in front of the television once our guests had left. It may have been a more relaxing day, but I was still shattered and was snoring on the sofa a little after ten o'clock.

Thank Heavens tomorrow is a Bank Holiday.

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* TP: The Progeny
** He has actually been surprisingly interested in the arrival of the bees and loves to come out and work with his Dad and the colony. Apparently he was even discussing it with one of the regulars when pulling pints at work a few nights ago.
*** BMS & SMS: Bad Man Senior and Step Mum Sue.

A Busy Saturday

Over the past few days we had noticed that Marauder hadn't been her usual self and had developed an unhealthy interest in her rear end.

I consulted Google and came to the conclusion that her ...  [WARNING: look away now if you are at all squeamish] ... anal glands might be blocked. The first activity of the day was therefore another trip to the Vets.

After questioning the observable symptoms the Vet put on a pair of gloves and applied lubricant. Marauder was not at all impressed and could be heard to clearly state that she was being violated. My diagnosis was confirmed and the Vet gently* released the foul smelling blockage. Unfortunately this was all over the dog, the examination table, the floor and me.

The Vet apologised for spraying me with Marauder's noxious gloop. Quick as a flash I replied "shit happens" and watched this witty response wither and die ... this particular Vet is not known for her sense of humour.

With Marauder hopefully sorted we headed home and I then wheeled The Shitter from the garage. I rode her over to the nearest Motorcycle workshop to arrange her MOT test.** Normally I would do this over the 'phone, but The Shitter's number plate is definitely illegal.  I therefore wanted to discuss whether I need to simply present, or actually fit, a road legal registration plate for the test.

The response from the Workshop owner was encouraging.  He smiled and advised that they didn't worry about things like that, adding that, if ever asked, they advised that the machine "wasn't like that when presented for the test".  I was relieved that my pseudo vintage trials machine did not need to be encumbered with a 7" x 9" reflective, yellow, acrylic monstrosity.

By the time I returned home 30% had headed off for a hair appointment, so it was just TP and I at home for lunch.  TP was actually cleaning his motorbike and in the early afternoon I was required to assist with the adjustment of it's chain.  Having done that I decided to a little maintenance on The Shitter.

When I rebuilt the bike I had replaced the traditional Royal Enfield snail cam chain adjusters with a more modern type. Having used these for the past year it is fair to say that I wasn't overly impressed.   I found them fiddly and not particularly precise. So, this afternoon I spent what turned out to be an hour and a half taking out the rear wheel and reverting back to snail cam adjusters.

I finished and was washing off the grease, grime and oil just as 30% returned from her hair appointment. We then headed out in to the garden and I got grubby once again as I planted up the lavender in the border I created yesterday.

As the afternoon waned it was time to get cleaned up and dressed for an evening out. 30%'s Mum and Dad had recently celebrated their birthdays** so 30% had made a booking at 33, The Scullery in Stratford.

This is a tiny little restaurant situated amongst chip shops and dry cleaners and, initially, appears to be a little cafe. Once inside it was clearly a nice little restaurant and we were soon seated and surveying the menu. Three and a half hours and three courses later I can report that they served the best food that I had eaten for a very long time.

I had chicken livers pan fried with brandy and cream to start, a rib-eye steak as my main and finished it off with a beautiful creme brulee.  30% and The Tweedy's also reported most excellent fare and I don't think it will be  long before we make another visit.

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* "Gently! ... my arse!" said Marauder
** Mr Tweedy was 74. I think Mrs Tweedy was about 1,458 and still looking remarkably well preserved, despite her inability to check herself out in mirrors!

A spot of Bird Watching news

30% loves to see birds in the garden and has a variety of feeders dotted around. She regularly fills then with fresh seed and fat balls and loves to see the Robins and Blue Tits eagerly pecking away.

I am sure that you can imagine the scene; with a variety of finches, thrushes and tits busily feeding. The very image of a rural British Garden. This morning I woke early and came down to witness a garden that looked more like a scene from A Game of Thrones than the avian paradise 30% is aiming for.

I saw three of the most enormous enormous rooks pecking at a bird feeder like it was a still warm corpse. I swear one of them looked like it had a third eye on it's forehead.  These were accompanied by a pair of grey hooded Jackdaws and a malevolent Magpie.*

It was the complete antithesis of what she has in mind. There was not a single 'garden" bird in sight just these dark and brooding members of the Corvidae that wouldn't have looked out of place on a battle field.

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* I should also mention "Fat Pigeon" who is a regular in the garden. FP is an incredibly obese Wood Pigeon . The bird is so tubby that I swear the bugger drags it's breast along the sward as it waddles across the garden.  I am amazed that the chubby sod can manage to fly up in to the fir tree and I am sure that I can hear it wheezing asthmatically rather than cooing as it should.

Odd Jobs

Despite the fact that one of my projects is the subject of a Customer escalation, I had a relatively quiet day.

I suppose I should explain my relaxed view of the client escalation. Basically the project had missed its committed delivery date on 31st March. This was eight days before I was engaged to develop a solution and pricing. Once I had been engaged,  I ensured that the Project Lead understood that we would need several weeks, if not months, to develop the pricing.  I also had the sense to minute that conversation and distribute to all concerned.  Since my engagement I have prioritised and pushed the work forward and have a set of audible records to prove it.

Basically; short of inventing a fucking time machine there was nothing I could have ever done to get the project back on track.

So, apart from pushing out a communication to attempt to get an American Security Team to work faster I had a quiet day.

It was glorious outside and by four o'clock I had wandered outside and was enjoying the weather.

Feeling that I ought to achieve something , I looked around for something to do and my eye fell on the garage guttering. This had developed a leaking joint so the steps were deployed and I soon had the sections clipped back together. I was obviously keen as I then went on to clear the crud from the gutter to avoid blocking the drains.

With the thought of blocked drains rattling around in my skull I remembered that one of the drains was not clearing quickly and spent the next twenty minuted trying to work out how to remove the drain cover. I eventually fathomed it and managed to clear a substantial amount of stagnant detritus from the drain ... it now flows beautifully.

I was now on a roll and tools were gathered from the shed and I attacked the new border up by the bee hive. 30% and I had purchased some lavender plants to create a low hedge but the border need to be weeded first. It was an hour of digging, including stump removal before this couple of linear meters was free of nettles, ivy and brambles.

I now just need to check the shade level over the course of the day to ensure it will be sunny enough for lavender.

I'm not sure anything happened

Today was one of those days when I seemed to be busy for most of the day but can't really recall anything significant happening.

At present I am going through a stage where I have handed off a lot of my work products to the Sales and Commercial Teams and they are just not up to having difficult discussions with the client. They don't want me to get involved in those discussions but they do want me to develop their arguments for them. At every stage in the process they revert back to me to resend an email that I provided months ago or justify a set of costs that were developed last year and reviewed on multiple occasions since then.

It is not hard work, but it is bloody frustrating to support a Sales team with the collective IQ of a sea squirt.  This is a good analogy since the sea squirt has neither prominent testes nor a back bone.

As five o'clock approach I gave up and wandered out in to the garden. Refreshed, I pulled the lawn mower from the shed and ran it around the lawn. I must have been keen as I then fired up the strimmer and tidied up the edges of the lawn too.

I then wandered over to the hive, perched on a tree stump and watched the bees coming and going. Their dedicated collection of nectar and pollen is amazingly calming to watch.  It gives me a warm pleasure to see them working and I hope building up a robust colony that will endure the Winter to come.

I don't think I was ever interested in bee keeping to produce honey. After all, several pounds of honey is not the best garden produce for a a diabetic. I just wanted to have a thriving hive  ...

... the funny thing is; they may only be insects but, as you care for them, you start to develop an affection for them and want each and every one of them to prosper. There are tens of thousands of them and in the Summer a worker only lives about six weeks, but we find ourselves going out of our way to avoid squashing a single one of them.

Some mid-week colour

Today's weather was cool and grey.

As the day progressed the sun refused to make an appearance and I eventually succumbed and turned on the heating.

On the work front;  things were generally quiet with brief interludes when idiots asked me stupid questions. I refused to answer these and, instead, advised them on the questions they should be asking and gave them the information they really needed. I think I may be somewhat demotivated at present.

The way this Journal entry is going it has the potential to get very bleak in the next few paragraphs ...

... Never Fear! I'm not going to fill this page with rants about work because it is just that ... "work". At it's most fundamental level it it the paid activity I participate in, to ensure that my Physiological and Safety* needs are met.

So, with a dreary grey day outside the window and hassle from idiots on the screen in front of me it is time for something far more cheerful instead.

Fisherman's Wharf - San Francisco

This photograph was taken last August when we toured California and Nevada. This sunny yellow tram was on the lines that run down to Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco.

We flew in to San Francisco and spent a few days there before heading out towards Sacramento. The city is well known for its Cable Cars, but it also has an extensive tram system. We were amazed to learn that they actually had an open topped tram that was originally from Blackpool.**

We spent a few hours down at the Wharf taking in the Sea lions down at Pier 39 and also took a boat trip around Alcatraz and out under the Golden Gate Bridge.

Hopefully photos make better subject matter than me moaning about work or the weather.

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* As Abraham Maslow would have put it. I tend to go along with "it pays the mortgage".

** A fact gleaned from the marvellous little museum down by the Seafront. 

Domesticity

Yesterday evening TP returned from a short trip in 30%'s Audi TT* to report that all was not well with the vehicle. His limited mechanical knowledge meant that he was not able to describe the problem but I managed to ascertain that it was "hunting" when idling and the power delivery was erratic causing a very rough drive.

The consequence of this was that today's first activity was to leave the car at the local workshop. With that task accomplished, 30% and I returned to find Penny** waiting on our doorstep to start her first session here at the Pile.

Within minutes she was a Whirling Dervish of household hygiene, having decided to concentrate on the Kitchen for her first session.  30% and I retired to our respective laptops and left her to it.  She finished at noon leaving a sparkling Kitchen in her wake. The only problem is that she has decided on a bit of a re-organisation and it took me a full ten minutes to find a pair of scissors.

In the afternoon Rob turned up to finish off the retaining wall in the garden. He finished just as the workshop called to let us know that the Audi was ready for collection.*** We urgently needed to be at the Vets, as Tyson & Marauder needed their Booster shots, so the little Audi was collected on our return from the surgery.

By the time we eventually got home it was definitely time for a drink!

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* 30% has finally decided that it is time to sell the TT and a rather nice little mini is already sat on the drive. Unfortunately we are witnessing a classic case of procrastination as we wait for 30% to swap personal registration plates and get the TT listed on the Auto Trader website. I am sure we have had the mini since the middle of March so we are at two months and counting.

** Our recently recruited Cleaner
*** A loose turbo pipe had been reconnected and a few fault codes had been reset ... "forty quid if it's cash"