Friday 12th July 2010

And so another week draws to an end. We sit at work clock watching, waiting for the appointed time when we can, in Fred Flintstone mode, run out of the office, clocking out shouting yabba dabba doo, or words to that effect, leap in the car and head off down the road to the drive in movie place and stop off for ribs the size of a house on the way home. Some of those things may happen, some are just in my head.

It has been a good week; my boss is on holiday, not that is an excuse for an easy week. I had a load of stuff to do, and I got that done, and hit a few more homers and spent far too long dealing with Danish incompetence. Yes, it is rife and running free in the Nordic states as well. Every day I battle the evil that is the sloping shoulder of another guy on the end of this copper wire who won’t actually check anything. Sigh.



But, using the mighty sword of truth, I slay the dragons of sloth and march on to battles yet to come. Oh well. What I dream of, is e mailing someone, they saying they will do something, and them actually doing it. What a glorious day that will be. But until then, I will deal with the real world. Or, me asking for something to be done, and not having to trouble myself, sure in the knowledge that the task would eb carried out, and if there was a snag that person would mail or call me to clear up confusion.

Ah yes.

I keep smiling. Smiling.



Last night I went to camera club. Going to camera club, especially on the night when it clashes with extreme beading classes in Deal, requires either quick cooking or getting fish and chips. It comes as no surprise that we chose the latter last night, and after being home long enough to feed the cats, read the mail and change out of our work clothes, we head off to into the night and the delights of Dover's Castle Street and its chippy.



After getting the hot parcels of lardy goodness, we head up to the car park at Western Heights to sit in the car, eat our chips and watch the lights twinkling in far off Calais over the Channel.

Now, the problem: Jools has to head to Deal, and I have an hour to kill before the club starts, and so what to do? In a word; PUB!

Jools dropped me off at the Royal Oak near the water mill where camera club is held, and so i sat down to read the latest copy of Word whilst I supped pints of Late Red. The landlady did talk to me a while about photography, as I had been taking shots outside, and we swapped stories on history of the area.



And so on the camera club, where it was an internal competition night; I entered three shots into the digital side, and managed to win the shot of the night, which was nice and very pleasing.

Happy the man.