Green is good?

 The past couple of days seem to have been mostly consumed by my BMW R nineT. 

It's a convoluted tale, but I will try to be as concise as possible. TP has an A2 motorcycle license* which he has held for many years. He now wants to upgrade to an unlimited A class bike license. This involves repeating the Mod 1 (off road) and Mod 2 (on road) tests on a higher powered machine.

He took a training course earlier in the year, passed the Mod 1 but, unfortunately, did not pass the Mod 2 test. He therefore needed to repeat the Mod 2 test but did not have access to a training school fleet of bikes for the test.

He had already arranged to borrow his mate's Kawasaki Versys 650, which is a little on the tall side, so I asked if he wanted to try my BMW for size. He agreed that this was a good idea, so Monday saw me wander out to the garage and attempt to start the bike. 

None of my bikes had been ridden for at least 18 months as I spent 8 months of 2023 virtually housebound with a spinal condition. The condition is currently in remission, so one of the post-retirement priorities was to get some miles ridden on two wheels.**

Apologies! I digressed. After 18+ months the BMW had a flat battery, despite connection to a trickle charger. There followed an hour of messing around and reading instructions before I simply removed the seat and got an alternative charger connected up.  I also rang my favourite local Motorcycle Dealer/Workshop and got an MOT provisionally booked for the following day, subject to me getting the damned Teutonic beast to start.

The rest of the day was punctuated with visits to the garage to check on the battery charging progress, as indicated by the plentiful, but unintuitive, indicator lights.

Tuesday dawned and I wandered out to the garage to check on progress. I saw multiple green lights on the charger and hoped that this was positive news. A little before nine o'clock I grabbed my helmet, jacket and gloves and wandered out to urge her in to life.

It now gets a bit anticlimactic from here on. The bike started easily and the ride over to the workshop was a delight. Within 40 minutes the test was passed and I returned home to "throw a bucket of water at her" as she was pretty grimy after more than a year in a dusty garage.

TP appeared later in the day, the bike was taxed and we took a ride out to see what he thought. After much consideration he decided that, despite the lower seat height, he would use his friend's Versys.  He said he loved riding it, but found it way too powerful for riding during the test.***

We later realised that the BMW has almost twice the power of the Kawasaki and getting on for three times the grunt of TP's Honda CBR 500. It's no wonder he found it a bit of a handful.

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* Machines of 47 bhp, or less

** I had already got my Moto Guzzi Stornello back on the road at the beginning of April for a three day, retirement celebratory bike tour of Wales with TP and his chums. Unfortunately the Guzzi falls in to the A2 power category and was of no use for TP's test

*** I'm glad I made him endure the hell-hole that is Evesham at the point that Prince Henry's High School releases its students in to the community. The normal chaotic traffic was now at a standstill and low speed crawling was needed to manoeuvre through town. This carefully selected route was certainly using the bike under test conditions.

Lazy Day

 I woke to the sound of rain and discovered that it was bloody cold. The low temperature was reinforced when I accompanied one of the dogs* along the lane for a few yards so he could b) empty his bladder and a) take note of which of the local foxes had visited over night. It was effing freezing!

The miserable weather did not encourage me to get busy and I had a really lazy day. I caught up with TP's news from Thailand and generally mooched about the house doing very little. I extended his knowledge of classic Sci Fi by making him watch Galaxy Quest. He had never seen this little gem and agreed that it had lasted well and was well worth watching.

I then proceeded to have a snooze on the sofa, before waking and deciding that I had definitely had enough of the chilly weather. Kindling was gathered, matches were located ... eventually and a fire was set in the log burner in time for 30%'s return from a shopping trip.

I was appointed head cook this evening and was responsible for rustling up a smoked salmon and pasta dish for dinner. It was judged a success and the ingredients and recipe are outlined below for anyone that might be interested.

Smoked Salmon with Pasta (serves 3)

• 1 large onion, finely chopped
• a good glug of olive oil
• 3 cloves of garlic, crushed
• button mushrooms, sliced
• a slug of white wine (half a glass)
• 1 - 2 tsp of dried thyme
• 100 g smoked salmon, sliced in to thin ribbons
• 200 ml double cream
• 6 - 8 ounces of pasta
• salt and black pepper, to taste

1. Put a frying/saute pan on a medium heat and add a healthy glug of olive oil
2. Add the chopped onions and stir regularly to avoid browning them
3. After 5 minutes, or so, add the thyme, mushrooms and garlic and continue to cook on a medium heat for a further 5 minutes.
4. Add a healthy splash of white wine or cider to deglaze the pan and allow to simmer until most of the wine has evaporated off. This should take about 5 mins
5. Add the sliced smoked salmon, stir though and remove from the heat
6. Meanwhile cook the pasta and drain. Return the pasta to the pan.
7. Add the onion, mushroom and salmon mixture to the pasta and stir in well.
8. Throw in the cream and stir to warm through.
9. Taste, adjust seasoning and serve.

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* Sans coat and hat

I've still got it.

 Today was the day that TP flew home after a month in Thailand. He has spent the first two weeks of his trip travelling solo before meeting up with three of his friends for the final fortnight of the holiday. We have had the odd message and video call with him over the past month and are really looking forward to catching up with him.

I needed to pick up the traveller from Evesham station at 4.30 p.m. this afternoon so, for once, actually had a scheduled appointment that I needed to keep ... more on this later.

The weather is unseasonably cold at the moment and each time I ventured outside I returned wishing that I had donned hat and coat. As a result I spent the first part of the morning pottering* before I steeled myself, put on the aforementioned hat and coat, and headed out with the dogs for a walk. This took longer than expected due to conversational interludes, including one with the Milky Bar Kid who asked me if I was still interested in joining their Game Shoot. I confirmed that I was, but I'm not counting my chickens** yet.

Back at home we lunched before preparing to head out.  Yesterday 30% had asked what time we needed to leave home to collect TP if we popped in to Alcester for a couple of items, then headed over to The Valley at Evesham before arriving at Evesham station at half past four.

She looked at me in incredulous disbelief when I said we needed to leave at half past two. "That's way too early!" she exclaimed. I had barely got two sentences in to my analysis of the journey elements and shopping duration estimates before a look of fatigue passed across her face. Instead I settled with the more concise "remember that I have spent a good chunk of my working life estimating how long activities will take".

30% accepted this with good grace and, unusually, she was ready to leave home at 2.30 sharp. As we headed in to Alcester I pointed out that my estimate included contingency, grabbing a couple of items from Waitrose and I had also factored in twenty minute for a coffee and cake at The Valley.

Well! The afternoon panned out exactly as I had estimated and we arrived at the station 5 minutes before TP's train pulled in ... If I say so, myself, I always a bloody good estimator.

It was lovely to catch up with TP, despite his jet lag, and we look forward to more of his travellers tales as soon as he has got some sleep.

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* Looking busy, but achieving very little

** or rather pheasants

Getting stuff done.

 My plans for today weren't particularly arduous.

I put a batch of honey on to warm after breakfast and then headed out with the dogs for a walk. 

The walk was timed to perfection and I avoided both the pre-work walkers and those that perambulate after dropping their offspring off at school.  We met no-one and enjoyed the bright, but still cool, morning.

On our return I gave the honey a stir and judged that I had time for a coffee before it would be ready for decanting in to jars. Towards the end of the morning I had bottled the first batch of honey and made preparations to process the last of the 30lb tub,

I put the last batch on after lunch and continued my project for the ELF.  I won't go in to detail at this point, but it involves some rather beautifully figured oak disks combined with clear epoxy resin. This afternoon's activity was to set up a level platform that would ensure the resin sat evenly across the surface of the oak. This was more complicated than expected as also needed to ensure that the platform was leak proof and could be covered to prevent dust falling on the surface.*

I eventually got the platform arranged to my satisfaction and then carefully applied masking tape to the oak to retain the resin. It was then a matter of measuring out the resin and hardener, mixing them together for an eternity and then gently pouring the resin on to the wood.

I then offered prayers to various gods in the hope that the resin would set bubble and dust free.

The rest of the afternoon was spent bottling the last of the honey** and tidying up the various implements and receptacles used.

While all of this was going on 30% had nipped out to visit a friend and agree provision buying duties, as we will be spending the early May Bank Holiday with her and her husband narrow boating in Staffordshire ... That is highly likely to meet the definition of a booze cruise if ever there was one! 

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* The resin has a 72 hour set time and any dust falling on the surface will adversely affect the final appearance.

** Four jars have already been purchased from the little stall outside the gate. I only need to shift another dozen before I enter the wonderful land of profit.

Bloody Rodents!

 Thursday started with the continuing task of processing the bulk load of honey. 

I have a 30lb tub of semi solid honey that needs to be warmed, but not too much, so that it can be poured in to jars and sealed. This involves a Bain-Marie technique to avoid overheating the honey and damaging the flavour. Our slow cooker is the tool of choice, but I am limited to batches of about 5lbs, so this is going to take a few days to complete.

After putting on the first batch to warm, 30% and I headed over to a local workshop to drop off the Defender for its MOT test. I had gently woken the beast on Monday, after its Winter hibernation in the car port. It rumbled in to life relatively easily and all seemed well, but a test run down the road showed a fault with its ABS and traction control systems. The brakes were fine, but the ABS wasn't kicking in.

I alerted the chap at the workshop to this fault and he seemed unperturbed and advised that he would look in to it.

The remainder of the morning was spent on honey bottling duties and, shortly before lunch, I received a call to advise that the Defender was ready for collection. 30% and I headed out in the early afternoon to pick it up. 

The chap at the workshop advised that "I had friends" and lifted the bonnet to show a rodent nest in the vicinity of the brake master cylinder. It seems that the little fuckers had chewed through the ABS loom as part of their nest building activities. He had rectified this electrical fault for a very low charge of £30 and advised that, once fixed, the Defender had flown through its annual test with no "advisories".*

Back at home, I pottered around the house and garden for the rest of the afternoon and took the opportunity to steam clean the Defender's seats. These did not look their best after 6 months in the car port and a blast of steam followed by a wipe over with a towel seems to have spruced them up quite nicely.

This evening I was joined by "Bobbyn" for a walk around the Three Miler. On most Tuesdays and Thursdays, for the past few months, she joins me after work and we walk together in a vain attempt to improve our fitness. She brings her three terriers, who enjoy the rural scents and I think she enjoys the opportunity to vent after a long day in the waste management industry.

In the evening 30% and I stumbled across Allelujah, a film adaptation of an Alan Bennet play of the same name.  It was rather good with a cast of some of Britain's finest acting talents; Dench, Jacobi, Jennifer Saunders. 

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* Unlike last year when the inspection suggested that I should keep an eye on the rusty front springs and the condition of tires which are still the original fitments from 2009!

What day is it?

 After reading yesterday's Journal entry I realised that I had barely hinted at the reason for resuming The Journal. 

The main reason is that I now have the time. I know I have plenty of activities to fill my hours with a large garden, three dogs, motorcycles etc*, but I used to feel guilty for grabbing a few** minutes from my working day to recount the previous day's activities, trials and tribulations. Now my time is my own and this is something that I can to do without a trace of guilt.

Now to the main purpose of today's entry ... Anyone who knows me really well will know that I don't have a great grasp on days and dates. I have no problem with the time of day, but ask me the date and I would need to check a calendar and I can be vague on what day of the week it is too.*** 

Working meant that I needed to remember, or at least confirm, what day and date it was to ensure that deadlines were met and meetings attended. Now I am retired, a task or activity can be done at any time and there is much less need to schedule. 

I don't need to wait until the weekend, and hope it isn't raining, to dig over the vegetable garden. I can do it today if the weather is fine. 

Another significant reason for resuming the Journal is therefore to help in anchoring me to the Gregorian Calendar. I am pretty certain that without some form of calendrical discipline I would rapidly go feral and end up like one of those Japanese Soldiers that were posted to, and abandoned on, a remote Pacific islet and still think it is 1952.

I also think that it will give an element of structure to my day, which may be beneficial.

I'll finish by giving a quick summary of today's activities. 30% disappeared early to spend the day with The Coven watching a matinee of Jesus Christ Superstar in Birmingham. This left me home alone bottling honey.

We finally sold the last of the 2022 bumper crop**** a couple of days ago. Our little roadside honey stall does quite good business, so with no chance of a honey crop before August I approached a local beekeeper to ask if he would permit me to bulk buy from him and sell under my own branding. He was more than happy to oblige and I have made a start on clarifying, filtering and bottling 30lbs of local honey for resale from the doorstep.

This wasn't an arduous task, but it did require my attention throughout the day. When not involved in stirring or sterilising jars, I did head out on the Three Miler with the dogs for a constitutional.

Now the more attentive reader will note that there is no mention of a 2023 honey crop and there is a good reason for that, but that can wait for another day.

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* I suppose I had better add family to that list too!

**"Few"! If only Dantes Nine Circles of Hell and The Neat & Today Piano Movers knew how many of their hours I had wasted jotting down this rubbish.

*** I can definitely confirm that it has a "y" in it, if that helps.

**** Over 260lbs from 5 hives

How to begin ... again!

It's a good job that I don't hold my breath when pausing for inspiration. As one of nature's procrastinators, I would have expired many, many years ago! Breathe Bad Man, breathe. Here I now find myself, almost four years since I last posted in the Journal, wondering how to begin ... again?

Shall I note down the long list of excuses for not posting, attempt a summary of the past four years, or shall I just start wittering about my trivial achievements of the past twenty four hours? 

It is probably best if there is an explanation ... 31st March 2024 was my last day of work ... probably! After thirty nine years in a variety of roles, I finally decided that I just really didn't want to do it any more. I realised that I had no problem in finding something to occupy my time, and many of the things I wanted to do were being put off to sit in front of a corporate laptop waiting for something to happen.

As 30% noted, I actually gave up work for Lent as it was on Shrove Tuesday that I politely advised my current employer that "their role did not meet my expectations", gave them a calendar month's notice and did as little as possible until I sloped off on Maundy Thursday.

I have to admit that I had a huge amount of support from 30% in making this decision. She has been semi-retired for a while and finally gave up her last part-time job at the beginning of December, last year.  She dutifully warned me of the challenges I was likely to encounter, particularly regarding identity and income, based on her own experiences. All I can do is see how the next days, months and years unfold to see how I am impacted by this new stage of my life.

The Neat & Tidy Piano Movers* also deserve a special mention in my decision making process. In April last year, they advised that me, my colleagues and our manager were to be made redundant at the end of June. Fortuitously I was approached on the very next day by a Recruitment Consultant asking if I was interested in an exciting** opportunity. I took the bait, polished up my CV and sent it off. I also took advantage of The Piano Movers financial planning benefit for employees over the ago of 55. 

The Piano Movers generously part fund the services of a Financial Advisor, so 30% and I spent many hours collating financial information and submitted it for the scrutiny of an FA who had been recommended by a friend.

Whilst this was going on my application for the new job was progressing and I appeared to be making my way through their interview process successfully.*** 

Now let us jump forward to early June and my final interview with the prospective new employer. That day was a busy one as 30% and I also had our final assessment call with our Financial Advisors. That call came first and they uttered a phrase that I will never forget, "You don't need to work Bad Man".  

Now it has been said that there are two types of people; those who live to work and those who work to live****. I am most definitely a person who has worked to live and this utterance from the FA was accompanied by the proverbial choir of angels singing exaltations in the background.

I suppose I should add that I landed the new job but it is fair to say that my heart wasn't really in it and it turned out to be the complete antithesis of its description during the recruitment process. I stuck at it for nine months but, in the end, I decided that I would rather be free from the home office to do things that please me and others rather than pick at bloated carcasses of IT outsourcing solutions in an attempt to make them palatable to customers and suppliers.*****

I am now nearly a month in to my retirement and have never been so busy. 30% and I celebrated her 60th Birthday with a few days at Llangennith on The Gower, I have constructed a mini desk for the back bedroom and am currently working on a little project for The Elf.

I can already confirm the utterance of so many retired people, "We don't know how we found the time for work"!

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* Courtesy of The Simpsons 

** It wasn't exciting, but the salary was reasonable.

*** So successfully that after perusal of my CV and interview #1 I was offered a more senior role and more money.

**** There are also those who prefer to rely on The State to live

***** I didn't actually mind working on the solutions, it was that I had had my fill of the endless and inane Corporate Bull Shit.

What have I been doing?

Both work and home life have been quite hectic and, yet again, I have failed in my efforts to maintain The Journal.  Here is another half arsed summary of the comings and goings here at The Pile.

The weekend started with a trip over to Hailes Shooting Ground with Bubbles and BBQ Dave.  They both shot really well and I was pleased that my performance finally seems to be getting back to where it was before the lockdown started.*

I almost forgot to mention that Whiffler joined us up at Hailes and seemed to enjoy the new experience, especially the fuss and attention he got from the other shooters.  The reason for taking him was that we had a house viewing that morning, 30% was quite happy to walk Marauder and #3 while the viewing took place, but couldn't manage all three of the dogs.  So, Whiffler came shooting with the lads.

After shooting I spent an hour or so with Bubbles while he fitted a new Bluetooth DAB head unit to the Defender.  It seemed that our entire day was spent together as 30% and I were back there in the evening for one of Bubbles' "meat fest" barbecues.

Most of Sunday and Monday were spent attempting to tidy up the garage.  It was built when we extended The Pile back in 2007 and I swear that there was stuff in there that hasn't seen the light of day since it was first put on the shelves.

Over the course of the two days 30% and I worked through the various boxes trying to identify possessions that we no longer needed.  It is fair to say that this led to a few heated debates as I fall in to the "just chuck the bloody stuff away" camp, whilst 30% wants to either keep it, recycle it or spend an incredible amount of time trying to re-home stuff.**

Despite the strategic disagreements we have made fantastic start on the garage clearance.  A Defender full of crap went to the local refuse site and a Mini full of unwanted belongings went to local lady who is a fund raiser for the local Brownie Troop.

We now have shelf space in the garage and it looks a whole lot tidier, providing you don't look up in to the roof space ... That is yet to be tackled.

On the work front it is more of the same.  I'm busy trying to define a way forward on the latest project and have managed to persuade the Sales Guy that my proposed course of action is the right one.  That is a result, but it still means that I have a metaphorical mountain to climb over the coming weeks.

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* I shot 51% overall with individual stand scores of 62.5% and 75% on five of the twelve stands. (5/8 and 6/8)

** By way of example we have 396 jar lids that don't fit the honey jars we use.  They were supplied in error and we were not charged for them.  My approach is to just put them out for recycling.  30%, on the other hand, advertised them on Facebook and has had several exchanges over the past few days with a local chap who MAY want 20 of them.  For fuck's sake! 

Ouch!

One story from the past week that slipped my memory was Marauder's visit to the Vet.

At some point over the weekend before last we had noticed that she seemed to have an infection on her paw, so, at the beginning of last week, she was taken to her preferred private health practitioner.  The vet confirmed our diagnosis, prescribed a course of steroids and antibiotics and advised that we should bring her back in a week if there was no improvement.

At the beginning of this week her foot was marginally improved, but it was clear that the infection was still present.  We toddled off to the Vets, once again, and it was decided that she needed an x-ray and to have the site of the infection explored and lanced.*

To cut a long story short, another £400 pounds was added to last week's £60 bill.  There didn't appear to be anything nasty embedded in her foot and she has another course of antibiotics to consume.  She will, of course, be taking it easy on the end of the sofa until the incision has healed.

Despite her advancing years, Marauder appears to be in robust health ... this isn't that surprising as she appears to get better medical care than I do.**

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*  When I returned home without Marauder, 30% started to imagine horrible outcomes and ended up heading up to the Vets to say goodbye to M ... just in case!   

** Marauder ... "Badman, You should go private like me"

Catching up

It's been a week since I last made an entry in The Journal.  It would be untruthful to say that I hadn't had time, but I have been quite busy and, after brain melting days sat at a laptop, the last thing I want to do is prolong the experience by making another entry in BMJ.

So, what have I been up to?  On the work front I have been handed a new assignment and have spent much of the past week thinking "what the hell am I supposed to be doing?"  After several conversations I think I may have an understanding of what is needed and now have a very wordy PowerPoint presentation to waft in the face of the Sales Lead.  

I'm not expecting the Sales bod to be particularly informative, but the presentation is a documented view of my understanding and proposed course of action.  He can disagree and advise of what he really wants, but, based on previous experience, I am expecting him to pay minimal attention, agree and then slope off before he gets landed with some proper work.

So that was work covered; succinctly "very busy on a new project".

Away from work I had another three day weekend and it, literally, started with a bang, or more accurately hundreds of bangs ...

On Saturday morning Grubby Mark and I headed up to Burford for a simulated game shoot.  Basically this involved six pair of shooters stood in a line about twenty yards from each other.  At the sound of the starting whistle, clay targets were launched in the general direction of the shooters, simulating pheasants being driven towards the guns.

It was a fantastic experience with each "drive" seeming to last about five minutes and the targets came in thick and fast. There were so many incoming targets it was necessary to have your partner reload your gun after each pair of shots rather than waste time rummaging in a pocket for cartridges.* 

Over the course of the day we ate and drank plenty and shot nearly five hundred cartridges on eight simulated drives at four different sites.  It was a great experience and I would definitely be up for another simulated game day.

The game day was surprisingly tiring considering that we didn't exactly walk very far and spent most of our time blowing clays to smithereens, talking, eating and drinking!  Despite this seeming to take very little effort I was exhausted by the time I got home and was glad that Sunday was a quiet day.

We were joined at lunch time by M&M** for a quick bite.  They were on their way up to visit M's relatives in Birmingham and we had arranged for them to break their journey and lunch with us, so that we could catch up on each others' news.  We had a super couple of hours and it was hard to part when we had so much talking and laughing left to do.***  Hopefully we can arrange a "sleep over" in the not too distant future and continue the fun.

Later in the day we had our regular Sunday Zoom Cocktail hour.  It was just 30%, me and C&S.  We had another rambling natter that ended with us deciding to have an overnight stay with them in Abbots Langley now that is permitted following the recent easing of lock down restrictions.

Monday was spent with the bees and it is probably best if I leave it at that!  The weather has been pretty poor all week and it seems that they have spent most of their time huddled on the frames.  Very little nectar seems to have been gathered in over the course of the week and many of the colonies seem intent on swarming.  I'm finding that eight hives is way too many to manage and am definitely planning to cut them back at the end of the season.****

So that's a brief and scruffy summary of the past week; a lot of confusing work, much shooting and a modicum of socialising too.

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*  At the end of each simulated drive, the shooter and loader swap roles and the clays are repeated, so that each gets a turn.

**  From deepest, darkest Wiltshire ... Moonraker country!

***  and drinking too!

****  Colonies can be united late in the season, so watch out for a muddled narrative on that in September.

A blast from the past

Whilst rummaging around for my copy of Fitter, Fitter & Blamey, I happened to take a quick look inside the large wooden trunk on the landing.  It is filled to the brim with old photographs and, for some reason, I selected a wallet at random and thumbed through the snaps.  I was delighted to come across a couple of photos of my first "big bike".

It was a Honda VF500 FII and I can still remember the registration; C124 UWP.*  I have many fond recollections of her and she was quite special in her day.  This was one of the early incarnations of the Honda V4 motorcycle engine that was massively successful on both road and race track.  According to Wikipedia it is regarded as one of the finest handling bikes of the 1980s.  I occasionally search eBay ... just on the off chance of being reunited.

I bought her from Skellerns in Worcester, shortly after passing my motorcycle test, in July 1987 and can still recall the excitement and trepidation as I wobbled off up the London Road.  She was my only form of transport for a good few years and, when I moved down to South West London later that year, she made my daily commute from Motspur Park to Hinchley Wood an adventure and delight. 

It was a few minutes work to scan the photos and it's really nice to see her again ... She's still very pretty!

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*  A check of the DVLA website shows that she was last MOT tested in 2006 and had nearly 55,000 miles on the clock.  It also strangely records her colour as yellow?

Where's Fitter, Fitter or Blamey when you need them?*

For the past few days a rather attractive wildflower has caught my eye at the highest elevation on the three miler.  It has an attractive, reddish coloured, composite flower and I can't recall ever having seen it before.  I took another long look today and cursed myself for bringing neither camera nor 'phone to take a snap and facilitate it's identification.

After a session with Google, I eventually learned that it was greater knapweed (Centaurea scabiosa).  Apparently it's quite common, but I don't think I've ever seen this little stunner around the Three Miler before.

I must try to get a half decent photo before the flowering period ends.

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* Fitter, Fitter & Blamey - The Wildflowers of Britain and Northern Europe.  This is one of those little nuggets of information that you don't really need, but can't seem to forget.  This was the recommended field guide for an ecology module of my degree over thirty five years ago.  I still have the battered volume somewhere, but can't, for the life of me, think where.

Two in one ... again

Sunday was mostly taken up with dogs and bees.

I would normally start this narrative with "as soon as the day warmed, I made a start on the hives", but the day was unseasonably cool and very windy.  This was in marked contrast to the weather earlier in the week.  I did my best to inspect frames covered with bees that should have been out foraging and can report that the June gap seems to be over.  The bees are finally bringing in more nectar than they are consuming, so let's see how well they do over the next few weeks.

The dogs were walked in the afternoon and that pretty much sums up my Sunday.  Considering we're at the end of June, it feels more like the end of March at the moment.

And now on to Monday,  the early part of the day was spent on house tidying as we had a viewing booked in at two o'clock.  30% hosted the viewing whilst I hit the Three Miler with Whiffler and #3.  Three large and exuberant dogs can tend to detract potential buyers from the period, original features of The Pile.  Apparently Marauder did her best to see them off with a half-hearted bark from the end of the sofa, but couldn't summon up the enthusiasm for her full-blown, volume turned up to eleven welcome/warning!

30% reported that the viewers didn't seem particularly enthralled with the house and, after a short session with Google,*  we are at a loss to understand why they wanted to see it in the first place?  Their current home is the polar opposite of The Pile.  They appear to favour chrome, glass topped tables and modern, gold framed mirrors whilst our home is very much period features, antiques and open fires.  One would have to assume that they have budgeted to spend twenty thousand on replacement furniture as we can't see anything of theirs fitting in here.

I did also manage to pay a visit to see my Alcester Mum & Dad for an hour in the morning.  I'd missed a call from Buzzer on Saturday and it was much more fun to ride over on the Guzzi and sit and drink coffee with them than to talk on the phone.  We had a lovely catch up and are hoping for some decent weather so we can finally get out on our bikes.

Two in one

It's Saturday and the first of a long run of three day weekends ... let me explain.

The Neat & Tidy Piano Movers, and many other employers too, are concerned that their staff are amassing huge amounts of annual leave during lockdown and they will all disappear off on holiday as soon as they are able, leading to resourcing issues.  As a result we have been encouraged to take time off now.

I'm quite happy to do so and have arranged to have the next five Mondays off work.  I now have a run of five three day weekends ... fan-bloody-tastic!

Now, let's just drop back to Friday's comings and goings.  It was deathly quiet at work and the only matter of any significance was that Colleague R announced that he was finally leaving the building.  I sent him an insincere note thanking him for all of his support and assistance over the past few weeks.  I would have liked to have pointed out that he was a waffling, old woman that lacked any ability to drive his work forward to a conclusion, but, apparently, that is not an acceptable goodbye and good luck note.

And that would have been it for Friday if it hadn't been for the fact that 30% had invited a new friend over for an afternoon glass of wine in the garden.  Her husband joined her at about seven o'clock and it was gone eleven before the fun ended.  This impromptu evening was a lovely start to the weekend and I'm certain we will be seeing a lot more of O, J and Baby Artie in the future.

Now we get back to Saturday; I woke reasonably early with a thick head as a result of last night's drinking.  This was not the ideal preparation for a morning at Hailes Shooting Ground with Bubbles, but it turned out that my shooting was a slight improvement over the piss-poor performance of the past few weeks.  I can't actually tell you what my score was because it rained so hard that the ink was literally washed off the scorecard.  As we got to the last few stands we gave up keeping score and just enjoyed smashing clays.  

The high point of the morning was a pair of simulated rabbits that charged across the ground. I managed a respectable 6/8 and was surprised to have beaten Bubbles' score of 5.  Mind you, by this point, we were already sodden and he may have just decided to piss around!

Once back at home I had a light lunch and cleaned my gun before I was encouraged to tidy myself up and head down the road to Grubby Sue and Mark's house.  We were on the sauce, once again, and enjoyed a relaxed early evening barbecue with yet more wine.  

If I am honest we hadn't fully recovered from Friday evening's antics and were fortunate that we could make our excuses and return home to let the dogs out before retiring to the sofa for a long overdue snooze.

Another quiet day

It was another quiet day today, so my key accomplishments were to go and get myself 1,000 shotgun cartridges and mow the lawn.

The quantity of cartridges might seem a little excessive until one notes that a morning's clay shooting will comprise one hundred sporting clays.  Today's shopping will therefore only keeping me going for ten outings.  Actually even less, as Grubby Mark and I are going on a simulated game day in a couple of weeks and the expectation is that we will go through five hundred cartridges over the course of that day.

I've only ever shot game once before on a soaking wet day last December.  A simulated game day is something new and, by the scant details squeezed from Mark, it basically sounds like a bunch of people with shotguns firing at a torrent of incoming clays over the course of the day.*

It's only a week away, so watch out for an update.

Finally, on a completely unconnected subject, what on earth is going through the minds of the people at the AA?  About a year ago I cancelled my subscription to their roadside assistance service.  There are lots of reasons why, but principally it's because I get a no claims discount on my car and bike insurance and expect the same from the AA.  Fuck it, we have only ever broken down twice in the past twenty years and, at about ninety quid a year, it makes more sense to pay per breakdown rather than fund the AA.

Now, back to my grumble; since cancelling my AA subscription I get the occasional offer to rejoin.  The AA describe it as a tempting offer.  I've looked at the price and it is neither "tempting" nor "an offer".  They simply present their basic service price.  As soon as I have added in cover for 30% we are right back at the price I was paying when I cancelled!

Now, I'm not sure whether the AA have noticed or not, but the whole bloody country has been in lockdown since the end of March and are still being encouraged to socially distance and work from home if at all possible.  I estimate that I have driven no more than one hundred miles in the past thirteen weeks.  Why would I resubscribe when neither of us are actually using our vehicles?

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*  With several breaks for refreshments and bullshitting  

Job done ... eventually

With Marauder and Whiffler completely shorn and ready to face the hottest weather of the year, my attention turned to #3.

For some reason I was slightly apprehensive about clipping her.  I've clipped her face and paws ever since she was a young pup, but I have never given her the full body clip and I was uncertain how it would go.  The Grooming School always reported that she was a pleasure to clip, but they would say that wouldn't they?  For all I know she could be a complete nightmare like the vile brat at the nursery that they can't wait to hand back to the parents at the end of the day.*

I think the foundation of my concerns is that she is of a very slight build and she is a real wuss! She will squeal at the least provocation and I mean the LEAST provocation.  I've heard her whine as a tangle is brushed from her coat.  She really is a drama queen and sometimes we suspect that she "puts it on".  For example she will be bouncing around with Whiffler in the most exuberant of games and then shout out in apparent alarm if brushed!

Clipping the dogs is quite a physical process and they need to be held and repositioned frequently as they are shorn of their long hair.  So, I would be putting a young, petite drama queen through a long physical process.  What could possibly go wrong?

Early in the day, #3 was encouraged on to the grooming mat and I made a start on her long tangled coat.  To be fair; she was an absolute star for the first 30 minutes and stood patiently as swathes of hair were shorn from her  head and body.  It was only when I got to her tail and legs that she started to fidget and then yelp as knotted mats of hair were pulled at.

I decided it was probably time for a break and, after a treat to reward her, she ran around like a thing possessed trailing lengths of red fur behind her.

In the end it took three sessions to get her clipped and that doesn't include the considerable amount of scissor work to remove the worst of her mats, before breaking out the clippers to tidy her up.

As the day ends she is sprawled on the floor looking a whole lot tidier, and smaller, than she did.  The problem with being a completer/finisher is that my eye is constantly drawn to tufts of hair that need a quick snip to finish the job ...

She'll be back on the grooming mat tomorrow as her feet are still a bloody disgrace!

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* "Oh yes, he's had a lovely day and been such a special boy".  No mention of the eating crayons, biting, constant shouting and attention seeking all bloody day.  The nursery staff rush back inside and reach for the gin and prozac. 

Haircuts (cont'd)

It was fairly quiet at work, so, being at a loose end for most of the day, I finished Whiffler's Summer clip and then hauled a reluctant Marauder from her favourite spot on the end of the sofa.

Marauder is approaching her eleventh birthday and is, most definitely, the senior member of the pack.  She still enjoys a walk around the Three Miler from time to time, but is now happy to amble along at my heel rather than race around like Whiffler and #3.  She'll still break out in to a run from time to time, but this is usually because she has smelt a pile of fresh horse shit and wants to be first at the trough.

Right, where was I going with this?  Oh yes, Marauder is now getting on and I made the clip as easy as possible by doing her feet whilst she was perched on the sofa.  This meant that she didn't need to balance on three legs whilst I stripped away her coat.  She tires easily and eventually lay down on the floor whilst I finished the job.

Both 30% and I are painfully aware that she only has a couple of years, at best, left and we are dreading her end.  She has a massive character. She is noisy and independent, but at the same time calm and sociable, liking nothing better than to curl up alongside you on the sofa and be loved.

I talk to her all the time and, as most dog owners will tell you, she answers back.  She has an incorrigible personality and comes out with the most outrageous statements,* but we love her without limit.

How do you repay the unconditional love that a dog gives? Marauder's response is "plenty of treats and yes, I will have a big spoonful of that Madagascar Vanilla Ice Cream".

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*  She has held a lifelong grudge with Eddy, our three legged cat and her most recent plan was to "have the whining little shit put down".  When asked about disposing of the body she replied that it was a simple matter ... "dump his body in the road.  Once the first car has gone over 'im it'll look like an RTA".   This is not a dog who really cares what you think.   

Long overdue for a trim

There has been quite a bit of coverage and comment in the media about the impact of no hairdressers or barbers since the beginning of the lockdown.  There are on-line tutorials for DIY haircuts, celebrity commercials for self applied colourings to cover roots or grey and a stream of social media videos showing home haircut failures.

I took the plunge myself a few weeks ago and got TP to clip my hair, but it isn't just the human population that are in dire need of a haircut ...

Marauder, Whiffler and Dog #3 are looking very shaggy indeed.  They were last clipped the day before our wedding and that was almost four months ago.  The weather is forecast to get well in to the eighties* this week and a three inch long coat is not going to be much fun for them.

I used to clip them all quite regularly, but for the last couple of years we have been using a Dog Grooming Training School in Stratford-upon-Avon.  To cut a long story short we met a drunk man in Alcester who managed, at the third or fourth attempt,** to explain that he had a poodle and got it clipped for free in Stratford.  After a bit of web searching we located the Grooming School and learnt that standard poodles are in demand for training dog groomers due to their size and the complexity of their clip.

Standard poodles are not that common and consequently the grooming school welcomed our three with open arms.  They charge £10 per dog for a bath, groom and clip which is less than a sixth of what we would pay elsewhere.  As a result they have been models for a couple of years and get a very cheap haircut ever four to six weeks.

However, the grooming school has been closed during the lockdown too and today it was my turn to make a start on the dogs.  Whiffler was first for the treatment and I have clipped him completely back, removing his topknot and longer hair on his ears.  After four months he had become quite matted and taking his coat back to 3mm in length is the best approach.  Hopefully it will be just the right length for a lamb clip  by the time the grooming school reopens.

I had got the worst of Whiffler's coat removed by dinner time.  I'll tidy his feet and face up tomorrow morning before choosing my next victim.

Marauder, these clippers have your name on them!

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* Fahrenheit obviously!

**  He was very pissed!

Weekend round-up

 Saturday: Hit 'n Miss

After my usual leisurely start to Saturday morning, I dragged the lawn mower from the shed and, unsurprisingly, mowed the lawn with it.  I needed to get this task out of the way as Grubby Mark and I had a reservation at the Cotswold Shooting Ground.

An early lunch was eaten and we were at the ground and ready to shoot just before one o'clock.  It was an eighty bird card* and it was bloody difficult.  It is fair to say my shooting ranged from sublime to ridiculous and my miserable total was 26/80. 

At my best I shot a perfect ten on one stand and a reasonable 6/10 on another, but overall I did not do well.  I later found out that a very experienced friend, who would normally shoot in to the 80%s only managed to hit 55 of the very tricky clays.  I took some consolation that it must have been a challenging shoot, but I definitely need a lot more practice.

I headed home and spent the late afternoon in the garden inspecting the hives.  I was joined by TP's girlfriend, who was quite keen to see the workings of a honey bee colony.  She seemed to really enjoy the experience and by the time we working our way through the last of the four hives, she even managed to spot the queen among the tens of thousands of workers on the brood combs.

Sunday: More bees!

Another leisurely start to the day and then 30% and I headed out around the Three Miler with the dogs.  It was a pleasant enough amble, but encounters with friends along the way, meant that this hour long walk took the best part of two hours this morning.

The longer than usual walk meant that the three hives in Kathy's garden didn't get inspected until the early afternoon.

I took a nucleus hive** with me as a precautionary measure.  One of the hives had been looking "swarmy" for the past month.  I had been doing my best to deter them, but on every previous inspection I had been greeted with the sight of multiple queen cups dotted around the brood nest.  Today was no different and one frame had three or four well developed queen cells hanging from the lower bars of the brood frame.

Locating the queen was a bit of a challenge as the frames were crowded with workers, but I eventually found her and removed her to the nucleus hive.  I added a few more frames of brood, shook in plenty of workers and closed up the nuc.  Once I'd finished the inspection I would take this with me and put it on a hive stand in the garden at home.***

The second hive was doing reasonably well.  There still isn't much nectar being brought in but there were plenty of workers ready and waiting for the Summer flowers.  Having ensured this colony was fine I headed to the third hive.  Earlier in the week Kathy had 'phoned to let me know that the third hive had swarmed.  I had been expecting this as this was yet another colony that could not be deterred from reproducing.

As I lifted the queen excluder my attention was drawn to a bee in the corner of the hive, well away from the brood nest.  It was a small queen.  I assume that it is an unmated, virgin queen that has hatched now the old queen has swarmed.  With warm weather forecast for the upcoming week, I hope she will have successful mating flights and soon be laying her first generation of daughters.

So Sunday ended with another colony of bees in the garden, but this entry wouldn't be complete without mention of Father's Day.  Earlier in the day TP presented me with a cucumber and a wrapped present.  He certainly knows his Father well.  I instantly got the joke and removed the gift wrap to reveal a bottle of Hendricks gin.****

I shall enjoy that.

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* The number of clay targets available to shoot.  

**  A small portable hive that can be used for catching swarms or taking a split or shook swarm from a hive.

*** If I left the nuc in Kathy's garden the most of the workers would simply return to the original hive leaving the queen without a sustainable colony.  This is because the workers have incredible navigation skills and can range over a mile from their hive and still make their way back with their foraged nectar and pollen.  By moving the nuc to an unknown location, the workers will reorientate themselves and return to the new hive.

****  A slice of cucumber compliments it perfectly.

Clock watching

The title of today's Journal entry pretty much sums up my day.

I had delivered this week's planned deliverables by close of business yesterday and, consequently, had very little on my professional plate for today.  I did finally managed to finish off the five minute job, * but even that took a couple of attempts.  

As there is not much else to report I may as well explain.  The final requirement clarifications were provided by the Project Managers early this morning and this clearly demonstrated that the second and final deliverable was something that the Sales Team could manage without my help.

I sent over an email with all of the relevant information and evidence and advised that I planned to cancel the request for my support.  The Sales Guy promptly responded asking a question that clearly indicated that he hadn't bothered to read the attachments in the email.

I sent him a polite reply directing him to the relevant attachments and fortunately heard nothing more before the end of the day.  

Now, after re-reading this, I may seem to be a bit of a jobsworth, but I have actually spent the past two days doing work the Sales Guy should have done before he even requested my support.  It is his job to clarify the requirements and, if he had done that, this activity might have taken an hour or two rather than the best part of a full day spread over three.  

It is a sad fact that the Sales Guys I work with aren't very keen on doing anything other than schmooze with the customer and take bonuses for poorly contracted business deals with questionable profitability.**  Christ knows what they are doing*** now that Covid-19 restrictions have stopped them visiting the customer?

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*  The fact that I have now been wittering on about this five minute job since Wednesday pretty much proves my point; there is no such thing as a five minute job. 

**  My colleagues and I do our best to make them profitable, but then the horse trading starts and crappy deals get done!

*** Most of them are wankers, so they are probably exercising their right arms at home.