Welcome to Tuesday, everyone is back at work, except me, or so it seems; although the big interview is looming on Thursday. More about that another time.
So, that was Easter, come and gone, four days with Jools, crappy weather which is only to be expected on two bank holidays. Yes, bank holidays, the banks are closed but most other places these days are open. There was even rubbish collection on Good Friday, and I guess if we would have gone to the village shop, daily papers. When I were a nipper, we only got three days off a year, two at Christmas and Good Friday, but most days are now the same as Tesco wants to make even more money, as does Starbucks, apparently.
Saturday was a wet and miserable day out; the radio spoke of gridlock in town and on the main roads in due to one of the ferry companies being hit by a strike. So, for the most part we did indoor stuff, which for me was either watching football on TV or listening to football on the radio. It's near the end of the season, so in the Prem, richer teams of millionaires are beating teams of lesser millionaires, all very exciting stuff, or so Sky TV tells us, but then they have to as they have paid billions for the right to beam the games to us, and heaven forbid should they actually admit that the same team winning and the usual suspects behind would be boring; hell no. And since when does finishing forth become so magical, Liverpool?
So, that night I cooked steak with field mushrooms and Jools went out and fetched chips from the local chippy. It was all very nice.
On Sunday the rain came down even harder, and as there was nowhere we really wanted to visit, we stayed in and did more things inside; more beading for Jools and I began scanning more slides from an Italian trip I did a few years back; and the day did pass.
In the evening, I cooked roast beef and the usual trimmings. I have now got this to a fine art, so from start to plate it takes less than two hours, and tastes pretty good I have to say.
Monday promised to be the best day of the weekend, and so it proved. We had been wanting to go for a long walk all weekend long, and this was our chance. We decided to walk around the village of Appledore, following a route in a book Jools has; and even better, our friend Matt, said he would like to meet up with us.
Appledoor is on the edge of the Romney Marsh, and so lots of trampling over fields and over styles lay ahead. The first part of the walk was through farmland, and was easy going. We saw new laid vineyard too, with the promise of future vintages. We walked on.
And then came to a field of sheep with new born lambs, always cute, they made for fine photography, we walked on some more. We came to a church in a copse, and this was the furthest point from our start point, I snapped it so I could add it to my collection of Kentish churches, and then we took the less muddy road and headed down the shallow valley side towards the canal.
All along from Folkestone to Rye, a canal was built in Napoleonic times to moves equipment around easily, and that canal is still left, and is now a tranquil place, ideal for a stroll on a summer's or a spring day.
Back in Appledore, the pub was open and they were doing a hog roast in the beer garden; having worked up an appetite, what better way to sate that than to have some freshly cooked pork and crackling with some salad and vegetables? And washed down with a local ale of cider?
Time then to drive back home and to chill for the afternoon and for me to listen to even more football on the radio; and Norwich inch ever closer to promotion. Yay!
As is usual, the weather is glorious today; the sun is shining in a cloudless sky, and most folks are back at work. I took the car so I could get a haircut and maybe take some pictures.
I drove to Ramsgate, as I had noticed some interesting buildings as we had passed through, and wanted to snap them. In truth there was not much more than what I had seen from the car; a huge Grammar School; a large church, and the occasional odd looking building, and that was it. I found a place to have a haircut, and waited for an hour until it was my turn; and passed the time reading The Sun and The Daily Mail; as if life wasn't bad enough already. The Sun had lots about Jordan, the big breasted z list celeb and the latest Simon Cowell TV show, whilst the Mail had stuff about how rubbish the PM was and it's all immigrants fault(probably).
I went back home via the airport at Manston, where there is a museum. It was filled with aircraft and stuff I worked on during my time in the RAF, a sure sign I am getting old. A better sign of that was that the barber had to trim hair growing out of my ears!
Oh dearie me.
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