Monday 26th August 2013

Saturday. So, after doing the chores, I settled down to listen to the football on the radio. That this was ruined by some Rugby league match being apparently of more importance, so we were treated to regular score updates from each Premier League game. Just as well, really: as Norwich managed not only to fail to beat one of the three promoted teams, but also failed to socre against Hull city playing with ten men for more than an hour. That we lost to a 'soft' penalty, really is no excuse, it was a shame we should have won, but ended up losing 1-0, and the Buhs phoning Canary Call would have had plenty to moan about with just the 36 games left this season to turn things round.

That evening we drove to West stourmouth to the Rising sun, as it has become our location of choice at which to celebrate my birthday. We ordered drinks and after studying the menu we both decide to forgo the Paella for once: Jools went with chicken kiev, and i had baked skate. Both were rather wonderful, as was the cheese board I had to follow.



The drive back was interesting, as the long promised rain arrived and threw down a dayfull in a few mnutes, the road soon awash with rain, with visibility reduced to a few yeards. Once home we had to decide what to do with Bowie as it seemed he would be soaked, but upon insection, he was dry enough. So, we put dry bedding down and left him. He clearly wasn't happy with that.



Sunday.

Birthdays for:

Sean Connery
Elvis Costello
Mr Jelltex

Starsign: Virgo the Virgin (no comment)

It has come to the point in my life when birthdays are not things to be celebrated. They are things to lay in wait for and then beat with iron bars whilst delcaring your innocence about such things as birthdays. 50 is some one year 364 days away.

After breakfast and generally slobing the morning away, Jools dropped me at Shepherdswell so i could catch the midday train on the East Kent line to Eythorne where there was a beer festival going on! Trains, birthday, beer; a happy man indeed.

So, I paid my six quid and took my seat on the train as the DMU trundled at 10mph along the couple of miles through the rolling Kent countryside to Eyethorne where my good friend Matt was waiting. Through the wonder that is modern life, he had mailed me that morning to let me know he would be there.



So, as we drunk real ale in the sunshine, the trains came and went until it was time for Jools to come and collect me, pour me into the car and take me home so I could fall asleep on the sofa listening to the radio.

That night we had made plans to meet up with The Ramblers at Deal pier for a photowalk along the promenade and then to the pier to watch the sun go down. And take photographs. There was a chance that I was asked along to be something of the photographic 'expert', something I tried to play down at every oportunity. However, it was pleasant enough, even if the sea fog rolling in threatened to take the edge off the day. In the end the clouds cleared long enough so that our view from the pier of the sunset was rather wonderful, and so the sun set on another year in the life of Jelltex.

Jools and I headed back to the car, and then back home and i cooked steak and chips for dinner. After eating we sat in the back garden watching the stars twinkle and air lines pass overhead to destinations unknown.