Saturday 27th June 2015

Ten years ago today, I had my last 'working day' in the RAF. Some would say I had never had one, but, well, I know better. I try not to be one to look back too much, but ten years is ten years, 20% of my life and all that. That final week had been going round, handing in kit, getting the clearing chit signed, then the on this morning, the final round: OC Eng, OC Arm, then PSF, hand my ID card over, and that was it, I was a civvy. Almost, I was paid up to September 18th, so I had plans for the summer.

OC Arm, OC Armament Flight, was my boss, he should have had me in for a chat, thank me on behalf of the RAF and Queen for my 15 years of service, but he just signed the chit and shook my nad. He was a wanker, so why worry? Not me. I said goodbye to folks in the armoury, ignored the smiling knife who killed my career; yes, that's you Smithy you twat. Anyway, I walked out of the armoury, up through the camp, which was soon to close anyway, up to PSF, Personal Services Flight (?), hand in the ID card, sign some final forms, give them my address. And that was it, yes, you can go and do what you want!

On leaving I met an old friend: you just posted in? he asked. No, now leaving. For good. We shook hands, and I walked to my car to drive out for the final time. It was a wonderful summer day, clear blue skies, no wind. I think it wasn't yet ten in the morning, so I had time to drive home via the Reedham Ferry, get changed and head down the pub to celebrate.

I spent the summer in the US, travelling to New Hampshire, Maine and New York State before travelling to Seattle, hiring a Mustang convertible before driving down route 101 through Washington State, Portland, along the Oregon Coast, up the Columbia River Valley, Mt St Helens, Crate Lake, San Francisco, California and finaly to LA. The flying to meet friends in Arkansas, my 40th birthday in Vegas, and two final weeks back in Arkansas. Then the real world hit when I cam e back, the pay cheques from the RAF stopped.

And that lead me to being a draysman, a chemical delivery driver, a geophysical engineer and finally to the wonderful world of wind turbines. Its been a blast. And in the meantime, I met Jools, moved to Kent, got married and we bought the ugly house on the cliffs: Chez Jelltex.

These blogs go back to 2008, just before we married, what went before was in another country, another time. The journey was tough at times, but I love where I have ended up. We are seriously thinking about a trip to the Far East next year. We shall see.

Friday.

Day 6 of the 5 day week.

How did that happen? Well, the trip to Copenhagen of course. Since then I have been trying to smooth out the job and project in preparation for the holiday which starts at 16:00 on Wednesday. Not a minute later!

Being a Friday, I have wall to wall meetings. Starting at 08:00, and inbetween I have to review the project. It is relentless, but relentless at home, with coffee and cats and the sun shining outside.

The morning gives way to the afternoon, and I have another meeting, which turns into a talking shop, over runs by an hour. It is half three, and I think it is about time the weekend should start, being a manager, I believe that it is in my field of influence to decide when the weekend should start, so I decree to me and the cats that the weekend has started, and switch the computer off. No one complains.

Jools arrives home at half four, I am preparing dinner, and I realise we don't have enough breadcrumbs: shall we go out for dinner asks Jools? It is pay day, and I have received a bonus from work. It is an easy decision. We have coffee in the back garden before we drive into Deal for a curry.

The curry house is quiet, we get a good table and order a generous meal, but don't have a starter, just the poppadoms and dips. I have something with king prawns, and Jools has a balti delight. I ask if it comes with Angel Delight; apparently not.

On the way back we stop off at The Berry, which is having a beer festival, and a music one as it is Glastonbury as well. So they call their beer and music festival, Glaston Berry. Get it? I have a pint of chocolate beer, but with the curry laying heavy, I can only manage the one pint before thoughts turn to home and Monty.

Jools drives home, the weekend had begun, and i have three days before the holibobs.

Life is good.